Warnings: **YES** This story gets rough. No kidding, here. This
one has some really graphic scenes, including non-con and very
graphic violence. Do not let the gentle beginning fool you! It
quickly gets rough. Mind your tolerance levels, please!
Summary: Obi-Wan is taken prisoner on his first solo mission as
a new Knight. The experience teaches him and Qui-Gon something
about what's inside of them.
AU: Yup, that means in this, Naboo didn't happen.
Archive: M_A, yes, if you want it. Anyone else, please ask and
I'll very likely say yes.
Disclaimer: Not mine, I have no delusions about that. But no
profit to be had, and no harm to George's property, and I don't
*think* I'm deluded about that.
Thank you's: To Kamil, for support and cheerleading. To
Zorrorojo for some killer ideas <g> and more
cheerleading. To Amber Biles and Amari for enthusiastic
support. And a Great Big Thank You to Esmeralda for a
thoughftul and incredibly useful critique-- this story is so
much better for your effort!! Thanks again, ladies. This story
languished on my hard drive for two months, and you all helped
me to make it something presentable (I hope <g>). You
have my sincere gratitude!
Lush foliage and the hum of the Force permeated the temple
garden. Beauty and serenity wove an invisible tapestry that
shielded the ceremony from the outside world of Coruscant. It
shielded the heart-mates as they made their Lifebond vows, as
well as the other Jedi who joyously bore witness to the sacred
event.
Yoda presided over the ceremony with solemnity and compassion,
his large eyes affectionately drinking in the vision of the two
extraordinary Jedi. And yet when Qui-Gon met those eyes, he
thought he saw a flash of melancholy. He only briefly wondered
why his Master's happiness for them would waver; his heart was
soaring too high to reflect more upon it. He held up the small
box to Obi-Wan first, waiting for the young man to find his
ring among the many that covered the blue velvet-lined case.
The two had each separately selected the other's ring that
morning, and given them to Yoda until the ceremony. The test of
the Lifebond was for each man to find the ring his mate had
selected for him.
Obi-wan closed his eyes and let the Force guide his searching
fingers. After just a moment, he removed his hand from the case
and slowly opened his eyes. Yoda and Qui-Gon were smiling
broadly. A collective sigh wafted through the small crowd of
Jedi there to witness this joining.
Qui-Gon had his turn next, and retrieved his ring just as
quickly. When he opened his eyes, he saw an almost smug
expression on Obi-Wan's face. He glanced at the ring and Yoda
cackled. He and Obi-Wan had selected nearly identical rings for
one another. Both men shrugged and turned to the diminutive
Master to continue. He lightly grasped each of their hands,
bringing them closer until the rings touched.
"Never ending circles of life and love, these are. Where one
begins, the other ends." He motioned for them to push the rings
together, and watched placidly. Small sparks glinted from the
gilded silver until the rings seemed to meld and link together.
"As only the two of you can bring them together, only the two
of you can break them apart."
Yoda sighed and stepped back, leaving Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon to
stare at the two interlocked rings, the symbol of their union.
Their eyes met at last and at their mutual nod of agreement,
they each tenderly pulled. The rings separated, but healed
themselves quickly of fissures that had allowed their joining
and separation.
Anticipation suffused the room as the two Jedi each placed
their rings on their fingers. Yoda looked from one to the other
then pronounced, "The Council does acknowledge this Lifebond,
as does the Force, as do Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Pledged to one another for all time, they are."
Then Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were swept into the small crowd,
hugged, congratulated and wished well. Love and hope sung in
the air, along with a hunger and yearning to consummate the
bond they'd so patiently waited to complete.
They'd suffered through two hours of mingling with the Jedi
who'd come to the ceremony, accepting wishes of good fortune
and a happy life; and munching on the food their friends had
made for their Bonding meal. Throughout it all, the need
multiplied and chewed at their usually rigid control.
Yoda had at last taken pity on them, sending them away to the
knowing smirks and subtle teasing of their peers.
It had been so long since Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had seen each
other naked. Once they'd acknowledged their feelings, they'd
avoided temptation as much as possible and had eschewed the
usual casual nudity common to a Jedi team. They had agreed to
wait to consummate their bond, but each knew that that
proclamation could be so easily thrown to the wind. Having
controlled themselves for three years, they looked upon one
another with the anticipation of hungry eyes.
Once they'd peeled their clothing from one another with
trembling fingers, they stood just far enough apart for each to
drink his fill, each seeing the physical manifestation of their
love and desire for the first time.
All soft skin and unyielding muscle, Obi-Wan was a sensual
delight. Qui-Gon skimmed with gentle hands, relishing pure
tactile bliss. He was beyond words, awash in emotion as his
fingers roamed the expanse of broad shoulders, smoothly muscled
back and narrow hips.
He was surprised when Obi-Wan chuckled softly. His eyes darted
to his Bondmate's, question in his gaze. "Qui-Gon. I'm
inexperienced, but I won't break," he whispered with a rather
nervous smile.
Qui-Gon grinned in response, realizing that Obi-Wan
misinterpreted his tenderness. "I don't consider you frail,
beloved. I just. I want to savor you now that I have
you," he whispered the last hotly into the younger man's ear,
earning him a delicious shiver.
"Oh, and you shall have me, Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan replied boldly
and began to do his own exploring, with eager fingers and warm
lips.
Sweeping caresses and hot kisses to smooth skin stoked the fire
growing between them until both were ready to physically join,
and most intimately. As they fell to the bed, Qui-Gon took
Obi-Wan's mouth in a deep, sumptuous kiss. His tongue teased at
his mate's and they shared each other's breaths until they were
both softly moaning.
Obi-Wan's brow furrowed and he grunted in frustration when
Qui-Gon pulled away. "There's more, love," Qui-Gon assured
silkily just before he took a tight nipple between his lips to
lave and suckle. Obi-Wan arched his chest in delectable
response.
Qui-Gon sipped on the nipple's twin with the same sucking and
light nibbling before he trailed more wet kisses down Obi-Wan's
taut belly. The younger man gasped when the rasp of Qui-Gon's
beard just grazed his hot length. Qui-Gon grinned and dragged
his open mouth along the narrow hips beneath him.
Qui-Gon knew his mate was expecting him to take his shaft in
his mouth, and he would-- later. But the Master had other ideas
for the time being. He deftly flipped the younger man onto his
stomach and sat between his spread legs. He kneaded the full,
fleshy globes of Obi-Wan's ass, pulling them apart and then
squeezing them together, enjoying the sight of the tiny pink
muscle appearing and disappearing from his view.
Then he dipped his head to tongue the tight little opening. The
rich flavor and musky scent delighted Qui-Gon's senses as
Obi-Wan cried out thrust his hips upward, the moist, spasming
little muscle seeking to be impaled. Qui-Gon dipped just the
tip of his tongue inside-- and then deftly wiggled it.
Obi-Wan screamed and clenched down tightly as he pulsed his
release into the bedding under him. Through their bond, Qui-Gon
could feel his lover's stunned surprise at the intensity of the
orgasm. When the little hole relaxed, Qui-Gon removed his
tongue and placed tender kisses all over Obi-Wan's creamy
buttocks.
Then he scooted up to lie beside his mate and pull him close.
Obi-Wan turned his glassy-eyed gaze to him, but was beyond
words. "I know," Qui-Gon whispered. It was enough. Qui-Gon held
the sated and pliant body to him, waiting for Obi-Wan to come
back to himself. There was so much more left.
He didn't have to wait long. "Shouldn't you be getting ready or
something?" Obi-Wan murmured throatily, with a contented grin.
"Ready for what?" Qui-Gon asked softly.
Obi-Wan leaned up and licked along the curve of Qui-Gon's ear.
"I want you inside me. Hard, strong, full of life-- and all
mine."
Qui-Gon gulped, shivered and then pressed his young Bondmate
into the bed. He kissed him deeply, thrusting his tongue into
Obi-Wan's hot mouth and grinding his erection into the satiny
flank under him.
"Yes, I'm all yours, Obi-Wan. For all of this life and beyond."
The oil on the bedside table warmed quickly on Qui-Gon's
fingers. Obi-Wan turned on his side and Qui-Gon lifted the
younger man's leg up and over his hip to pull him close. While
one hand raked gently through Obi-Wan's hair, Qui-Gon fondled
the ridged little entry with the slick fingers of his other
hand.
When his index finger at last slid inside, Obi-Wan's mouth came
open in a soft gasp. Qui-Gon smiled and caressed the younger
man's forehead and temple with his lips while he slowly worked
his way in and out of the hot passage, to the rhapsodic tune of
Obi-Wan's breathy moans.
Just as he began to nibble on Obi-Wan's earlobe, he crooked his
finger just so, and Obi-Wan nearly choked. He clenched the
sheet with one hand and grasped back for Qui-Gon's hip with the
other. Qui-Gon chuckled softly. "I thought you'd like that."
"More!" Obi-Wan demanded in response.
Qui-Gon obliged. He carefully worked in another slippery finger
and skillfully stretched while massaging the sensitive gland
within. Obi-Wan grew more needy, writhing and wriggling on
Qui-Gon's hand, and until finally he blurted out hoarsely,
"Enough, Qui-Gon, now fuck me!"
The blunt order from his usually reserved mate sent a jolt of
lust to Qui-Gon's already stiff cock. He hurriedly oiled his
shaft and poised the head the twitching opening. Eyes locked
with Obi-Wan's, he began to press inside.
So hot, so moist, the tight channel welcomed him and gripped
him as he sank deeply inside. Obi-Wan's eyes were wide and
glazed, and his lips parted in a quietly panted, "Oh."
"Oh yes," Qui-Gon whispered back before softly kissing his
mate's succulent mouth. He nipped, nibbled and licked Obi-Wan's
lips as he began a gentle rocking motion with his hips and
kneaded the full flesh of Obi-Wan's buttocks.
After a moment, Obi-Wan joined the rhythm, easing back and
pulling away and then he moved it up tempo, until Qui-Gon was
sliding out of the hot hole and plunging back in again.
Obi-Wan's hand on Qui-Gon's hip helped to guide their speed and
to encourage more force in Qui-Gon's thrusts.
"More?" Qui-Gon asked in a rough voice as Obi-Wan's hand
gripped him tighter.
"Uhn. yes, more."
A powerful plunge and Obi-Wan groaned long and low. "Ohhh, yes.
Like that."
Thrust after thrust, Qui-Gon drove into the warm, willing body;
not only with the steel of his erection, but with the power of
his affection and love. And when he felt the electric tingle in
his balls and realized he couldn't fight the release any
longer, he reached for Obi-Wan's leaking hardness. He wanted
them to come together this time. He concentrated on his mate's
emotions and feelings while he stroked his hard shaft.
Obi-Wan was moaning, in a pinnacle of desire, need and
explosive sensation. He squeezed the younger man's cock and
swirled his thumb over the moist head; at the same time, he
angled a deep thrust that grazed his lover's prostate. They
shuddered and came together, Qui-Gon with a choked gasp, and
Obi-Wan with an unbridled groan. And then the only sounds were
rapid breaths and thundering heartbeats.
For long, languorous moments they stayed closely meshed
together, enjoying the slow waning of orgasmic tingles. When
Qui-Gon's softened penis slipped out of Obi-Wan's body, they
both sighed with regret but didn't move apart.
"So, was it worth the wait?" Obi-Wan asked with his patented
smirk, albeit an exhausted rendition.
"You will always be worth any wait, my Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon
answered soberly.
"The mission shouldn't take that long, Qui-Gon. I'm to gather a
few more facts and confirm leads only, before we send in
reinforcements to capture the slavers."
Qui-Gon sighed. "I know. But it wouldn't matter if you were
going to Alderaan for a wine tasting. It's hard to think of you
off-planet without me," he confessed and skimmed his lips over
Obi-Wan's sweaty temple.
"It's time, Qui-Gon. I'm no longer a child, or your Padawan. I
wouldn't be here in your bed if I was," Obi-Wan reminded with a
gleam in his eyes and a kiss to Qui-Gon's pouting lips. The
lips turned up in a grin.
"You're right, you're definitely not a boy any longer. But I
shall miss you and worry for you all the same. I wish you
didn't have to leave tomorrow. I would have liked for us to
have more time before your first assignment."
"We'll have time, I promise you," Obi-Wan vowed. The
earnestness of his ever-changing eyes sealed the promise.
They linked hands and stared contently at their nearly
identical rings. The tangible symbol of their unity. Qui-Gon
knew that the rings weren't as important as what they carried
inside, but his would be a comfort anyway while Obi-Wan was
away from him on his very first solo mission.
Another dead end. Qui-Gon didn't know from one minute to the
next if he could take it. Just when he was ready to sink to the
floor of his cabin on the cruiser and scream and rage in
helplessness, he would remember that to give up meant never
seeing those hazel eyes smiling at him. And that was
unacceptable.
It had been almost one year since Obi-Wan had been abducted.
All that time since, Qui-Gon was almost constantly on the move,
checking in with the Temple for the latest leads they had for
him. The Council was almost as anxious to reclaim their new
Knight as Qui-Gon was. It was they, after all, who had sent
Obi-Wan on that fateful mission. A mission to uncover the
identities of a ring of slavers specializing in Force sensitive
humanoids. The new Knight had reported in that his lead had
been false, and the following morning had simply vanished. He'd
never made it back to Coruscant.
And Qui-Gon's mission was now to make sure that his
irrepressible Lifebonded did indeed make it home to Coruscant.
He knew his former Padawan was alive; he could feel the thrum
of his life force through their bond, but oddly only at
intervals of approximately once every standard week, and then
only for an hour or so. At first it was a steady thump when he
felt it at those intervals, like a heartbeat that soothed his
mind despite the trace of danger he felt along that link. But
more and more, it was a wild and erratic pulse, and he had to
listen carefully and concentrate to recognize it as Obi-Wan.
Sharing thoughts was not something they had mastered yet. Their
Lifebond was too new. They'd waited until Obi-Wan was Knighted
to consummate their bond, so they could begin their life
together without the power disparity of Master and Apprentice.
Vaguely putting words to emotions was as far as they'd gotten
when Obi-Wan was sent on his first solo mission as a new
Knight, the morning after their bonding ceremony. Lately the
sporadic flashes of emotion that Qui-Gon felt from him had no
sentient word to put to them-- they were pulses of primal
savagery.
Qui-Gon shuddered and opened his datapad. There were more leads
and Qui-Gon would follow every last one of them.
The cell-- cage, rather, was dark. They liked to keep him in
the dark until they had use of him. In fact, they liked to give
him as little stimulus as possible until they dragged him out
of there in his bare feet, dressed with only a tattered cloth
over his groin. They liked to see him react to the sudden
onslaught of sight, sound and smell.
And it was usually the smell of blood and sweat that struck him
first. They would blindfold him, wrap his ears, then prod him
with electric tongs to guide him to the Pit. Once he crossed
the threshold to the underground fighting pit, he was no longer
constrained by the force dampeners of the compound.
The problem was that his captors were not in the Pit with him.
They were safe on the other side of the translucent force-field
that allowed the barbarians to look down upon the 'games' as
they called them.
The game began when Obi-Wan could frantically free himself of
the blindfold and ear wraps. As he did this, he was at once
assaulted with the sharp smell of the previous fight-- the
carnage and the death. And then he would stagger under the
spotlights that streaked across the force-field ceiling only to
reflect back into his eyes. And the roar of the savage crowd
pounded its way into his head. Screeches and shouts to "Kill,
kill!" rang out in the pit. Obi-Wan was never sure though if
the commands were for him or the deadly creature he was to
face.
He usually had mere seconds to recover his battered senses
before he heard the growl or hiss of whatever rabid beast they
had set free with him in the pit. It was in the dirty confines
of that arena that he was finally allowed to feel the force.
And he had to use it to the best of his ability to survive.
What had once been the center of his calm, reserve and control
was now his only weapon in a fight to the death.
The last creature he faced had fangs as large as Obi-Wan's
hands and claws as long as his fore-arm. And it was incredibly
resistant to force manipulations. Obi-Wan's flesh had been
ripped and torn open, only to have the salty saliva of the
animal drip into his gaping wounds. But he had finally defeated
the beast. The next one would be more difficult. That was the
pattern.
It was also part of the game that after he won, a net was
dropped on him while he was still weak, and he was quickly
gathered up and literally dragged back into a cage just outside
of the pit entrance, where he was again cut-off from the force.
But he would never stay there long. The spectators would line
up to look more closely at him and to bid.
The highest bidder was granted one night with the bloody and
weary fighter. Obi-Wan was then manacled to the bed in a dirty
little room of the compound, face down after a washing that got
at least some of the grime off of him-- if the buyer wished.
Often he didn't.
It was always the same once the buyer came into the room.
Before he was violently taken, his body was fondled roughly for
a moment or two. The first time his balls were ruthlessly
squeezed, he nearly bucked off the ruffian who was about to
rape him. He discovered that the sort of animal who would buy
him for the night would only be turned on by that behavior. So
he made the conscious effort to show as little reaction as he
could.
He spent many months turning off his reactions, turning off his
feelings. He had to feel numb or he would go insane. He had to
forget the kind, bearded face and gentle blue eyes that had
been the center of his universe. If he remembered the man who
was his salvation, he would surely go mad. If he lost his mind
he would miss the golden opportunity for escape.
Obi-Wan's world narrowed down to one goal-- survival. Fight,
claw, play dead when necessary and keep a keen eye out for
escape.
Dimly, he heard footsteps approaching his cage in the darkness.
They'd slid him a bread and water tray earlier, but this one
had a gritty protein bar with it, so that meant time to fight
soon. His heart began to pound and he steeled himself for the
bloody battle. Yes. Survival. That was his life now.
Coruscant, Four Years Earlier.
Preparing tea for himself and his master had never had such an
effect on Obi-Wan. He grinned at himself as he felt warmth
bloom in his belly and settle over his entire being. He gave a
little sniff as the steam wafted from the cups on the small
tray. Spiced, just the way Qui-Gon liked it.
"You're in an insanely good mood today, Padawan," Qui-Gon
remarked dryly as he watched Obi-Wan carry their light
breakfast into their common room.
Obi-Wan shrugged noncommittally as he set the tray down, but
still couldn't suppress his good humor. His master was seated
on the sofa, so he settled on the floor on the other side of
the short table.
Qui-Gon had had an interesting dream the night before, and
Obi-Wan had inadvertently picked up on some of the images. Even
in his sleep, Qui-Gon had been able to strengthen his shields,
but not before Obi-Wan was treated to some incredibly sensual
desires on the part of his usually unreadable master; the
desire to possess Obi-Wan's lips with his own, to have
Obi-Wan's hands caressing the trim length of Qui-Gon's torso...
Oh yes, those images were sensuality incarnate-- or they would
be as real as Qui-Gon would allow, rather.
Obi-Wan blessed his fortune to have stayed awake for extra
meditation the night before. The accidental wandering of
Qui-Gon's mind and his own could be nothing but the will of
Force, Obi-Wan believed.
But how long had Qui-Gon been hiding his desire? Obi-Wan
himself had been growing more and more attracted to his master
since his twentieth birthday, and that was almost two years
past. Obi-Wan hadn't announced his feelings out loud, but he
didn't hide them and he felt confident that Qui-Gon knew. He'd
behaved honestly but without pressuring Qui-Gon. He wasn't sure
why his master felt he had to pretend, but he was going to find
out. It felt too important let go unacknowledged. Those images,
so full of adoration and affection were too important to go
unacknowledged.
"Now suddenly so serious? Would you like to talk, Obi-Wan?"
Qui-Gon sipped his tea with regal a serenity that often calmed
the younger man simply by watching.
"Actually, yes, Master, I would," Obi-Wan answered with surety.
And then his eyes immediately darted to the breakfast tray of
their own accord. He snatched a honey pastry and busied himself
pulling away the flaky layers of the crust and flicking away
the poppy seeds. He never liked those anyway.
"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon seemed to be caught between amusement and
mild concern.
He took a deep breath and at last held Qui-Gon's gaze. "Last
night you had a. slight slip in your shields."
"Oh?" Qui-Gon replied, confused. And then recollection hit.
"Oh."
Obi-Wan was suddenly and inexplicably seized by the urge to
laugh. He firmly suppressed it, knowing it was ridiculously
inappropriate. Nervousness, he knew. "I didn't mean to intrude,
Master, I was meditating and just sort of wandered across some
of the. images from your dream." The urge to laugh was then
replaced by the urge to crawl under the low table as he felt
his cheeks turn crimson.
"And. this slip on my part. It makes you giddy, serious and
embarrassed in turns?" Qui-Gon asked, the hint of mischief in
his voice obvious.
"Well, yes," Obi-Wan replied, feeling his earlobes join the red
rainbow heating his face.
Qui-Gon sighed and leaned forward on the sofa. "I suppose it
was bound to come out sooner or later. My shields are only so
strong for so long."
"But that's what I don't understand. You must know of my
feelings for you," Obi-Wan cringed, hoping he wasn't whining.
He was far beyond that. "So why hide your own? Why make me
believe that nothing I feel is returned?"
"Are you angry with me, Padawan?" Qui-Gon asked, seemingly
genuinely curious.
Obi-Wan sighed and squirmed just a little. "No, not really.
Just confused. I 'd like to understand, Master."
"Of course. I haven't handled this well. I'm sorry for that,
Obi-Wan. I am. It seemed like the best approach to the
situation."
"Approach? Situation? I'm sorry, Master, but that seems
like a. trivial way to speak of feelings such as these,"
Obi-Wan found himself challenging.
Qui-Gon arched an eyebrow before he replied. "Indeed. Nothing
about our feelings is trivial. It doesn't happen to me everyday
and so I can only do the best that I can and let my instincts
guide me." There was no recrimination, just truth.
"I'm sorry. I still don't understand, but I am sorry to be
testy," Obi-Wan answered, still meeting his Master's gaze and
proud of that. This was much more difficult than he imagined.
"Obi-Wan. what we want, cannot be. Not yet, anyway. I was
afraid that if both our feelings were acknowledged and in the
open, it would be too difficult to hold them at bay until we
can be together as we both wish," Qui-Gon explained slowly.
"I'm over the age of consent, Master, by far. Is there some
other edict of the Code that I have not seen?" Obi-Wan tried
not to argue. He just wanted to know where he stood. Where they
both stood.
"No, Padawan. Apprentices over the age of consent may bond with
other Jedi, even their Masters. When I say it cannot be, it is
not a matter of the Code or the Council. It is my personal
belief as your Master. And I must be your Master first and
foremost. Your training is my sworn responsibility. I will not
have us thwart it."
Obi-Wan drank in his words, dissecting them and absorbing them.
He patiently waited for Qui-Gon to continue.
"Becoming a Knight also means learning to stand on your own.
You're becoming your own man, Obi-Wan. If we were to bond now,
before you are Knighted, there would always be some way in
which you would think of me as Master, and I would always in
some way think of you as Padawan. It would inhibit your growth,
your sense of independence. If we wait, then when we come
together, you will be coming to me as Obi-Wan Kenobi, valued
and skilled Jedi Knight. I won't let our feelings for each
other deprive you of your destiny as a strong, capable Knight."
Obi-Wan slowly grinned as light dawned. Qui-Gon was willing to
wait because it was best for him. "You love me that much?"
"Of course I do!" Qui-Gon half laughed as he reached his hand
over to ruffle Obi-Wan's hair.
Then he leaned forward a little more and dropped a soft kiss to
Obi-Wan's forehead, another to his temple and a quick one to
his lips. "My trials have never seemed so far away," Obi-Wan
joked wryly.
"About three years, Padawan."
"Three years? You think I'll be ready then?" Obi-Wan asked. He
was a little surprised. It was the first solid estimate his
Master had ever given him. Three very long years.
Qui-Gon chuckled. "Think of it as an extended lesson in
controlling emotions."
"Why suppress them so when they feel so right? Don't you feel
it? Doesn't it feel like the will of the Force to you?" Obi-Wan
was really more curious than argumentative.
"It does feel right, and that will make it harder. But Obi-Wan,
it would be too easy to give in and call it the will of the
Force. That argument can be used by many who would just rather
not control their emotions. Do what you feel and relegate it to
the will of the Force. Trust me, Obi-Wan. If it is right now,
it will be right when you are Knighted."
Obi-Wan nodded. "I understand, Master. But pardon my bluntness
when I say that in three years time, you are going to have an
incredibly horny Knight on your hands!"
Qui-Gon laughed, a sound that emanated from his belly and
seemed to echo pleasantly around the room. They couldn't be
together yet, but Obi-Wan determined that he could tease now
and then. Especially if the sound of Qui-Gon's laughter was his
reward.
Obi-Wan bolted upright and blinked hard. The shrill laughter of
a group of guards reverberated in his ears and then faded as
the captors' voices moved past his cage. Blackness wherever his
head turned greeted his eyes. The foul stench of waste and
urine fought past his nostrils. They hadn't changed the saw
dust under the grate in his cage in weeks and it reeked
horribly. They were getting sloppy.
He rubbed his hands over his face to try to wake himself. They
hadn't held him down and shaved him since his last fight in the
pit, and now the stubble on his cheeks was growing. The thought
of a beard nagged at his mind. Had he been dreaming about a
beard for some odd reason? He had been dreaming, he was
sure, but the memories of it teased him then vanished. He was
left only with the sense that at some time, in some place,
someone had made him happy.
Another lead. This one was from a Knight undercover who was on
the cusp of being invited to a Hunarian world sporting event.
It was rumored that the Hunarian underworld wagered on their
sporting events with slaves. As a species they were resistant
to force manipulations and were on the list of candidates of
those who would enjoy the benefits of Force sensitive slaves
and not have to worry much about being bested by their unique
property.
Qui-Gon was ordered not to interfere with Knight Coli's
investigation, but to be nearby as back-up and to help retrieve
Obi-Wan if he turned out to be on the Hunarian world. Coli
would send him scraps of details when he could. The integrity
of the mission, and indeed Obi-Wan's life depended on
discretion.
The last bit of detail Coli had sent to him was about this
upcoming event. The Durhi family, the largest crime family on
Hunari, sponsored some type of sport that was the highlight of
the planet's gambling circuit. Not that it was well known; if
that was the case, Coli would have more information. No, this
event was a highlight because every invitation was coveted. Not
many knew of this event, but apparently those who did know,
would go to great lengths to secure a place as a spectator. It
was a relatively small, elite group of criminals and the vastly
wealthy who gambled at these events.
These were the types who would use Force Sensitive slaves as
their bargaining chips. He couldn't reach across their bond for
confirmation, but Qui-Gon could almost feel it. Obi-Wan was
here, somewhere on this planet.
It took all of Qui-Gon's strength not to just run out onto the
street and grab every wretched soul he could find and make them
tell him where his mate was. He could beat it out of them, he
was sure. It frightened him how easily he thought he could toss
the code and all he stood for in order to make one of these
sleazy life forms give him back his Obi-Wan.
But he'd never forgive himself if he failed because of his lack
of control. Times when he teetered on the edge, Qui-Gon would
sigh heavily and commit himself to focus. He kept his goal in
the forefront of his mind. He kept ready the image of Obi-Wan,
smiling that lopsided grin of his and the twinkle in his eyes,
as the young man slung his pack over his shoulder and boarded
the transport for his mission. He would see that smile again.
He would not allow his hatred of the abductors to cause him to
fail. He would not let them win.
He was settled anonymously in the rooms he'd rented and had his
comm link handy, waiting for another coded report from Knight
Coli. He calmed himself to meditate. Actually, to reach out for
Obi-Wan as he'd done on a daily basis since his young bondmate
had been taken and his singing presence ripped from Qui-Gon's
mind.
**Please, love, tell me where you are.** Qui-Gon pleaded
softly, sending his mantra into the force.
A flicker. It was Obi-Wan, and yet it wasn't. It was almost. a
growl?
**Obi-Wan. please, can you tell me where you are? Tell me if
you're okay** He knew his lifebonded could not answer in words.
He knew Obi-Wan would not understand them. But he sent his
concern, his love for him and longing to have him near.
The flicker turned into a harsh cacophony of snarling
inhumanity. He had the impression of savage screaming and
blood-thirst that made Qui-Gon's stomach turn. Whatever it was
he felt along their bond, this was somehow not his
Obi-Wan.
For long moments, the Jedi Master allowed his senses to be
assaulted by the animalistic feelings coming at him in waves.
Until it finally ebbed to something that was simply hunger.
Less frantic, but no less chilling.
What in the skies above had they done to him?
All four limbs heavily chained, and with his head strapped down
with a large strip of leather, Obi-Wan's week long growth of
beard was shaved off. He fought to jerk his head far enough to
bite at the meaty hand that held the razor, but the strap over
his forehead was too tight.
His captors laughed at him and slapped his face, which only
enflamed the bound man even further. By the time the guards
were bored and done with him, Obi-Wan was snarling, with
streams of saliva dripping from the corners of his mouth from
his futile raging.
"He's rabid tonight. That should rouse the bettors plenty," one
of them growled in satisfaction. Then one of them grabbed the
nozzle of the hose that snaked from the stone wall. An icy
blast hit him and he squirmed and twisted uselessly. He was
drenched from head to toe, the force of the water used to get
the last several days' grime from his body.
The water barrage stopped only long enough for three of the
guards to get him flipped, bonds and all, onto his stomach, and
then the hard spray resumed. He growled deep in his throat as
he felt rough hands pull aside his loin cloth and part his
buttocks, so that the icy pelts pummeled his clenched opening.
Obi-Wan was then grabbed and dragged toward the entrance to the
pit. He was blindfolded as usual, and the covers for his ears
wrapped tightly before he was chained to the dank wall. He
couldn't see, he couldn't hear. He was alone with his
disjointed thoughts as he was left shivering to drip dry.
A beast was coming. It had to be killed before it killed him.
He had to live. If he lived, he had a chance. A chance for
what, he couldn't quite remember, but he knew deep inside that
it was important. Time lost meaning as Obi-Wan tried to
remember what to do when he survived the fight. He came upon
nothing and so his thoughts rambled back to what he was about
to face. Just win, he told himself.
He was so absorbed in the anticipation of the violent struggle
ahead that he was caught unawares when his guards came for him.
He fought and hissed at them when he felt their clammy and
scaled hands upon him. He was dragged again, his manacles
ripped away, and then bodily tossed forward, just as the
feeling of energy and life intruded on his senses. He
was in the Pit, with his captors safe from him on the other
side of the force-field.
He jerked off the blindfold and ear wraps, then blinked hard
and shielded his eyes from the blinding glare of lights that
shone on him. Deafening shouts rang painfully in his ears, too,
just as the scent of blood and sweat rushed up to attack him
also. Attack.
The growl he heard on the opposite side of the Pit made him
fall instinctively into a fighting crouch. He blinked hard and
just as his vision cleared he sensed the large animal lunging
for him. It had mangled, dirty brown fur, a long snout and
bulbous red eyes. Obi-Wan twisted and spun over its head,
easily a forearm taller than Obi-Wan, though the beast was on
all fours.
Obi-Wan had lost weight, and he found that with each fight he
had just a bit more spring. He was losing brute strength, so he
had to compensate with slightly increased agility. The creature
howled and bounded after him, twisting its short neck in
frustration as Obi-Wan continued to fly over its head.
But he could not keep up that energy level for long; his
endurance was not what it was because he was malnourished. But
his temporary strategy did afford him the chance to analyze the
beast's strengths and weaknesses. That's what would win Obi-Wan
his survival. He made one more high leap over the front of the
wildly grunting creature.
Just as Obi-Wan landed behind it, he aimed a kick for the furry
hind leg he was nearest. The loud crack of a breaking bone
accompanied a high-pitched screech of pain and rage from the
animal. Shouts from the crowd were both ecstatic and furious.
Dragging the useless limb, the creature nonetheless whipped
around and swiped a huge claw at its much smaller foe. Obi-Wan
leapt again, but this time the beast lunged upward and managed
to graze an arm mid-flight.
Obi-Wan howled in pain, but still landed with complete focus.
The beast surge forward and Obi-Wan dodged to the side, but
managed to grab and twist one large paw. He ignored the claw
that sliced along his already bleeding arm and used the
momentum of his body weight to pull the creature's limb out of
its socket.
The beast hissed and howled, foam dripped from its snout. Its
eyes glowed an angrily and Obi-Wan could sense for a moment
what was going on in the creature's mind. it was hungry and it
wanted blood. Rage within it built as the beast steadied itself
for a full-on attack, wanting to rip Obi-Wan to shreds and sink
its teeth into his flesh, to rip away his skin and feast on the
meat of his body. Pain was fueling its hunger, both physical
and primal.
Obi-Wan bounced from foot to foot, his eyes narrowed and feral
grin twisting his lips. Come and get me, he taunted
primitively into the beast's mind.
With an enraged growl, the thing came at him. It was lumbering
from its two injured limbs, but was still a threat for it's
size and pure ferocity. Obi-Wan tucked his body and rolled
toward the dangling front limb. He grabbed it and leapt,
grunting as he gathered the life energy around him; with the
power he summoned, the furry limb he grasped was ripped from
the body of the creature.
He landed on the other side of it to the roar of the crowd. He
staggered in exhaustion in front of the animal. It was panting
and screeching, blood gushing out from the shoulder where it's
front leg had been.
The crowd was on their feet, stomping and screaming to "Kill
it, Kill it!"
Obi-Wan stared into the creatures eyes. This time when their
minds met, Obi-Wan sensed mind-boggling pain and savage fear.
He sensed the imperative to survive that was not at all unlike
his own, and he felt the creature's desperate realization that
she would not live. She. Something within him began to crumble.
It was wrong. This was all wrong.
But he lunged forward anyway. He still clasped the torn-off
limb, and there was steam from the raw end of it, hot blood
coursing from it to pool in the dirt at Obi-Wan's feet. Obi-Wan
used the clawed end to quickly slice through the creature's
throat. Her eyes went mercifully dead in seconds. The crowd
would obviously have preferred something a little slower and
groaned in disappointment that the show was over so soon.
Obi-Wan sank to his knees, feeling a cascade of confusion and
despair wash over him. Somewhere deep inside him a voice was
telling him that it shouldn't be this way; he wanted to tell
his foe that he was sorry he'd had to kill her. But then the
net fell over him and he was snatched up again. He fought and
tore at the heavy ropes that scooped him and surrounded him,
but it was hopeless. It gave the crowd something else to watch
though, and they cheered wildly as Obi-Wan was dragged away,
kicking futilely at the net and screaming.
Knight Errin Coli was a patient man, but something was telling
him that it was time for action. He trusted his instincts but
was wise enough to know that he still had to be prepared. The
Force was trying to tell him that he needed to check out the
Durhi Family compound, and soon.
The family was known to keep force sensitive slaves, but he had
not been able to determine for what purpose. Not even a casual
slip had given him an idea. But something nagged at his mind
and told him it wasn't as simple as for pleasure slaves, though
that thought alone sickened him. But no, there was something
much more. base at work there.
There had been some sort of sporting event at the compound
earlier that night, something to which Coli had not been
invited. He knew there would be another such event in a week's
time to which he had been extended an invitation, and that
would be his chance to get on the inside. He would have waited
until then and not risked getting caught snooping, if not for
the suddenly urgent cry from the Force to go now.
He checked his reconnaissance data carefully, so that he would
arrive under just the right conditions. He could use the Force
for strength, but not against the minds of any Hunarian, should
trouble find him.
In the pre-dawn hours, he would have his best opportunity. The
guards would be fewer and the guests at the compound would be
gone but for maybe one, who would stagger out drunk to his
waiting transport much later than the rest. Most of the
compound would be sleeping. Coli analyzed the diagram of the
compound for the best places to creep around undetected.
The first thing he had to do, though, was get out of his
lodging without his tail following him. He was getting more
involved with the Durhi family, but they did not trust him. He
dimmed his lights and laid in his bed, fully clothed. After
several moments, he carefully slid out and onto the floor. He
dragged his cloak from the chair beside the bed and crawled
low, knowing he could be seen from the window if he stood.
Drawing the curtains would have been suspicious.
He made his way into the common room, still staying lower than
the windows. He could have used the trap door that went down
past the floor below him and led to the basement, but his Durhi
contact had suggested this dwelling and would know of it.
Instead, he crept out into the hall way and toward the window
at the other end of the corridor. He carefully peered out. No
one on that end of the building.
He climbed out, but instead of jumping from the second story
window, he climbed up, making his way via narrow ledges to the
four-story building's roof. From there, he could peek over the
edges and see if there were more tails on him tonight. It would
be likely; he had a morning meeting with the Durhi's eldest
son. They would step up security before bringing him into the
fold.
Sure enough, an extra tail was watching the back door to the
building, where the basement would have let out. Front and back
were covered. Coli grinned and made a silent leap to the
building to the side of his. He stayed in the shadows and
jumped to the next building after that, and after that, before
he made his down to street level. He remained alert for more of
Durhi's help, but could sense none.
His sense of urgency increased. Something was happening. He
could feel it in the air. With determination tempered by
stealth and caution, Errin Coli made his way to the compound.
He was underfed. It cost money to feed slaves and so his
captors had cut corners. When the manacles were slapped over
his wrists, Obi-Wan had to fight back an animalistic howl of
laughter. Instead he just licked his lips and snarled at the
unimpressed thug who was dragging him to the bed to await
tonight's highest bidder.
As usual, he was left face down on the bed wearing nothing but
his loin cloth and the blood of beast he'd ripped apart
earlier. He panted and occasionally giggled hysterically as he
waited for his rapist to make his appearance. It didn't take
long. Obi-Wan could smell the man's sweat. The scent made him
growl deep in his throat.
The man was trying to speak to him, but Obi-Wan couldn't
understand him and didn't try. It was gibberish. And he really
didn't care. The words had never mattered. Instead, he was
focused on instinct. He listened to the man's movements around
the room and the sounds of him removing his clothes.
Obi-Wan again growled. The man laughed and slapped his cloth
covered ass. Obi-Wan twisted on the bed and snapped, earning
him another laugh as the man settled between Obi-Wan's legs
before further spreading them roughly.
The man then grabbed Obi-Wan's hips and jerked him backwards,
intending to bring the much smaller Obi-Wan closer to his
groin. Obi-Wan kept his fingers straight and pulled hard, at
the same time his buyer pulled him back. Obi-Wan's slender
wrists scraped against the metal of the restraints but slipped
on through with only some skin scraping off. His captors had
never bothered to adjust the notches on his manacles as he'd
lost weight.
Obi-Wan twisted his body with all the speed he could muster and
dislodged his surprised would-be rapist. He lunged for the man
who'd gone tumbling off of the bed. He grabbed the man's head--
and he was human. Large, but definitely humanoid. Obi-Wan
jerked and pulled, using the man's thick black hair, but his
neck just wouldn't snap. And the man was clawing at Obi-Wan's
grip on him.
With a frustrated grunt, Obi-Wan bent his head and clamped his
teeth onto the man's cheek and pulled viciously, coming back
with flesh and blood. The man was finally brought out of his
shock enough to scream. Fortunately, Obi-Wan was able to cut it
short with a backhand the sent the man's reeling into the
wooden footboard of the bed. That stunned him long enough for
Obi-Wan to grab the long, slender blade that the man had left
on the nightstand. Many of the buyers enjoyed adding their own
cuts to his injuries.
With a wild thrust, the knife plunged into the buyer's thick
middle. It ripped its way past the hard muscle as Obi-Wan
locked eyes with dying man. Some part of him inside recognized
the fear of death that he saw in the dulling brown irises he
stared into. No matter. It was all about survival. Obi-Wan
ripped upward with the knife to finish the man off. At last he
stopped breathing and his eyes were lifeless.
Obi-Wan stood up slowly and stared coldly at the dead man at
his feet. His feet suddenly felt warm and wet. Blood from the
corpse was covering them. He cocked his head to the side and
sank to his knees again. He rubbed his fingertips into the
stickiness and then brought his hands to his chest. A disguise,
he decided in the disjointed racing of his mind; wear the blood
and the scent of the barbarians and they wouldn't be as quick
to find him. Red streaks soon painted his pale skin. He dipped
his hands again to the pooling blood. This time he painted his
thighs.
He kept going, painting streaks of blood all over his body,
only stopping once he'd striped his face and shoulder length
hair. And then his head snapped up as he heard distant voices.
The last of the guests to the compound would be leaving. His
captors would be on guard to make sure the bidder didn't steal
him. Clutching the knife, now slippery in his hand, Obi-Wan
went to the door. He creaked it open and peeked out. Nobody
there. His cage was to the right. He'd go left.
Moving with deadly, predatory stealth Obi-Wan crept down the
dank hallway. Yes, there was a guard, he could see his shadow
around the corner. Obi-Wan tucked the knife into his loin
cloth. This time, he grabbed his prey and jerked him into his
corner of the hall, and this time he indeed heard the
satisfying snap of the bones in the man's neck when he twisted.
He took hold of the knife again and softly tread toward where
instinct told him was the door out of there.
He rounded one more corner and was faced with a wide-eyed guard
who was staring exactly in his direction. The knife was flung
and unerringly lodged into its target's forehead, right between
the eyes. He slumped in the merest of seconds.
Obi-Wan approached cautiously. He glanced around wildly and
realized this was it. He placed his palm on the metal door
release. Nothing happened. He lifted the corpse's hand, jerking
the dead limb out of it's socket and pressed that palm to the
release. The big metal door opened with a soft swish. Obi-Wan
quickly pulled his knife out of the dead barbarian's head and
slipped outside.
He'd only gone a few paces up the stone steps before he
stumbled. What the hell was that feeling? There was a hum,
almost a swirling in his head. It was the kind that happened
when he was in the fighting Pit. Was there another beast coming
for him?
He decided to climb out of this pit quickly before the next
blood thirsty creature could find him. And he was hungry. He
would have to sniff out some food to gather his strength. When
Obi-Wan reached the top of the steps, he inhaled the night air.
There were beings around, though not close. He couldn't tell
how many were predators. He tip-toed off in the direction where
there were fewer creatures.
Streaked from head to toe in blood, gripping a crimson blade
and not sure what that thrumming sense of life was about,
Obi-Wan stalked off into the night, eyes wild and alert.
The wafting Obi-Wan's of life force surged though their bond
again. It usually lasted about an hour and was gone again until
the next weekly interval. This was the first time that Qui-Gon
had felt it again so soon, so clearly and without that sense of
brutal urgency. Something had happened. Qui-Gon concentrated as
deeply as he could.
It wasn't exactly emotion that he felt along their link, but
something more akin to. instinct. Obi-Wan did not seem to be
especially frightened. Wary, yes, but afraid, no. He mostly
seemed hungry and somehow only aware on a completely visceral
level.
Suddenly, there was a brief but intense spike of surprise and
then nothing. Dammit! He was gone again.
Qui-Gon rose from his meditation and paced, trying to regain
some measure of calm. About fifteen minutes later, his comm
link chimed.
"Jinn."
"Coli. My hangar, now."
And that was that. Qui-Gon grabbed his bag and was off. He had
to remember to walk calmly and not attract attention to
himself. Coli knew where Obi-Wan was. The message instructing
him to go to Coli's shuttle hangar meant that Qui-Gon was being
sent to retrieve Obi-Wan and that he'd be taking the young man
off world in Coli's ship.
To keep himself serene, Qui-Gon mentally went over the items in
the bag he'd brought for his mate. Since he'd begun the hunt it
had been the same. A change of clothes, a new toothbrush, his
shaving kit and a small bottle of Alderaani fruit wine,
Obi-Wan's favorite. Qui-Gon had been carrying those items
throughout his search. He snorted to himself as he neared the
landing pads beside the hangars; he basically packed for his
life bonded as if he were going on an overnight trip.
As if Qui-Gon could hand over a clean pair of pants and say
'How was your trip' and have everything be fine. The Master
knew that Obi-Wan couldn't possibly be fine. But by packing the
bag as such, he could at least pretend now and then.
At last he arrived at the hangar for Coli's shuttle. He slipped
inside and noted that the Knight had already retracted the
ceiling in anticipation of take-off. Qui-Gon's heart speeded
up. Things would be moving quickly.
"Jinn, inside, now," the tall Knight called from the top of the
boarding ramp.
Qui-Gon finally put on a burst of speed and leapt onto the ramp
and hurried inside. It was a smallish shuttle, and would have
only one small cabin, a bathroom with a shower stall, and a
small cargo area. He was led down the very short hallway to the
cabin. "What's going on?" he asked, working on his calm.
"He's here, and he's sleeping-- no, wait. Qui-Gon, you have to
be prepared for this. I don't know what in Sith's name they did
to him, but that is not the Obi-Wan they captured. He seems to
have no idea who or what he is. He's lost his ability to use
the Force, and quite honestly, he's lost every sense of
civility."
Coli explained succinctly, but with compassion in his eyes and
steady voice.
"How did you get him here, then?" Qui-Gon asked, numb and
dumbfounded.
"It was easy to use a Force suggestion to sleep. And to be sure
he stays out a while, I sedated him just a moment ago. Now
don't look at me like that," the Knight admonished as Qui-Gon
glared. "He didn't even recognize me, and given the chance, he
would have stabbed me, thinking I was attacking him for his
dinner. I felt his life force in an alleyway not far from the
Durhi family compound. I was there long enough to find out that
that was from where he'd made his escape. He'd killed his way
out of there, and it was bloody, Qui-Gon. Anyway, I followed
his force signature to that alley. Fortunate for us, he has a
damned high midi-chlorian count and he was easy to track. He
had hold of some kind of fowl and was ripping into it like he
hadn't eaten in a weeks. He didn't realize I was there until I
spoke to him."
Coli took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Go on." Qui-Gon
urged. He needed to know.
"He looked up at me with such alarm in his eyes. Qui-Gon, he
looked. wild. He was covered head to toe in dried blood-- not
his own, and he was only wearing a flimsy loincloth. And he was
hunched over, gnawing at the meat with such savagery in his
expression. It chilled me. He grabbed for his knife and
clutched his food to his chest, like he was a beast protecting
his meal."
Qui-Gon breathed softly. "It does make sense of what I've been
feeling from him through our bond. It really is my Obi-Wan?"
Qui-Gon couldn't help but worry that somehow it would be a
mistake, another lost hope.
"It's him, Qui-Gon. I could tell he'd lost his command of the
Force and I put him to sleep and carried him here. I healed a
wound on his arm, but I didn't have time to clean him up. I
have to meet my Durhi contact or he'll think something is up.
He might even suspect me of being involved in the slaughter at
the compound if I arouse suspicion. I managed to get out of
there unseen to find Obi-Wan before they had discovered the
bodies."
"Coli, be careful. We know what these Hunari creatures are
capable of now. When Obi-Wan can tell us, we'll have more
details, but he is living proof. It's senseless to risk another
Jedi to them."
"I agree. I would very much like to give Obi-Wan some time, and
see what he can tell us. But Qui-Gon, we have to be realistic.
It might be some time before he can tell us anything. I have to
keep my contacts active just in case." Coli didn't say it out
loud, but Qui-Gon could tell he had little hope that Obi-Wan
would be of help any time soon.
"Okay. But use caution, please. Should I send your shuttle back
to you?" Qui-Gon asked, trying to take care of as much official
business as quickly as possible so he could tend to Obi-Wan.
"No, this should work out fine. I need to show a material loss
to the Durhi' s. They'll think me a more serious player and
might allow me to gamble in the games set for next week. But I
would appreciate a few more credits in my expense account so I
can hire another ship. It won't do for me to be without
transportation."
"I will see that you get it. I have a feeling that soon we will
find out what these games are, and why force sensitive slaves
are necessary for the proceedings and bargaining."
"You might want to give him another dose of the sedative in
about twelve hours, Qui-Gon. You won't quite be back at the
Temple yet, and believe me, you aren't ready to deal with him
fully alert yet. And he won't be ready to face Coruscant in
that condition."
Qui-Gon studied Coli's solemn face. The Knight was speaking
plainly and truthfully. He nodded in acknowledgment of Coli's
advice.
"Thank you, my friend," he finally whispered hoarsely. "For
bringing him back to me."
"It is the single most satisfying part of this mission,
Qui-Gon. I'll be hoping for his full recovery. Now I must go,"
Coli smiled sadly and walked off the ramp.
"Force be with you, Coli," Qui-Gon softly called behind the
retreating Knight.
"And with you."
Qui-Gon quickly prepared the shuttle for take-off. The sooner
they were off the ground and the course set for Coruscant, the
sooner he could tend to his former Padawan. The coordinates
set, Qui-Gon signaled the Temple. He sent his coded message to
the Council, telling them he had Obi-Wan and to have Healers
awaiting.
Then he took a deep breath and headed for the cabin.
Nothing Coli said could have prepared him for the sight that
rocked him when he opened the door and turned up the lights.
Obi-Wan was sprawled ungraciously on the narrow bed, red
stripes of dried, flaky blood all over his thin body and
through his scraggly hair.
The loincloth barely covered him and Qui-Gon stifled a surge in
his stomach at the sight of Obi-Wan's hip bones sticking up
with only some pale skin to cover them. One bony hand lay
curled on his flat belly, the other arm flopped over the edge
of the bed.
Sighing raggedly, Qui-Gon went to the bathroom to fetch some
warm water and towels.
It took a couple of hours to get the dried blood from Obi-Wan's
skin. The task made him feel better, though, like he was
cleaning away at least some of the ruthlessness his mate had
been subjected to. He wasn't fool enough, or egotistical enough
to think that he could just clean it all away with his own
hands, but to carry out the tasks of caring for Obi-Wan soothed
him from the rage that threatened to overpower him.
Through his ministrations, Qui-Gon realized that while Obi-Wan
was very underweight, he was not in as bad a shape as he'd
feared. His muscles were tight and strong, and he'd apparently
not lost enough weight to have muscle tissue deterioration. But
his strength could not have been what it was before.
Qui-Gon was baffled at what his saw on his Bondmate's hand. He
was still wearing his ring. It was puzzling at first, that his
captors would allow him to keep such a valuable personal item
and yet only clothe him in a scanty rag.
But when Qui-Gon lifted the limp hand, he saw why the precious
ring was still there; it was fused to Obi-Wan's finger. It had
to have been the Force. With his weight loss, the ring would
have been loose, but instead, it had closed in and melded with
Obi-Wan's flesh.
Qui-Gon held his own hand against Obi-Wan's, allowing the rings
to touch. Tiny sparkles crackled over their fingers and Qui-Gon
could feel the magnetism the two rings held for one another. It
was the pull of the Force, embodied in the rings. Yoda had been
right. The two of them created it, with the gracious will of
the Force, and only the two of them could break them apart. The
slavers could never have won in that regard. Qui-Gon watched a
moment longer, then softly kissed his mate's ring finger,
setting about his task once again.
Qui-Gon actually found a measure of relaxation in washing
Obi-Wan's hair. It was nearly down to his shoulders. Qui-Gon
had two basins of warm water. He arranged Obi-Wan on the floor,
the first basin between his own legs, and positioned Obi-Wan's
head over the basin, his neck supported by his own crossed
ankles.
He watched as the blood worked loose from the long hair to
reveal the dark, dull blond that would turn golden when Obi-Wan
got some sun. Soon, though, the water was pinkish even through
the shampoo suds, and Qui-Gon exchanged it for the clean water
basin to rinse.
At last Obi-Wan had the worst of it off of him, and Qui-Gon
settled the young man back on the bed to dress him. Clothed in
loose leggings and a soft under-tunic, he settled the blankets
over the still unconscious young man.
And then Qui-Gon was at a loss. He had nothing to do for the
next twelve hours. So finally, he sat down next to the bed,
took Obi-Wan's smaller hand into his, the hand wearing the
gilded band of their Lifebond, and he cried. The endless nights
alone, wondering where Obi-Wan was, if he was well, wishing the
best but imagining the worst; the frustration and devastation
every time a lead went cold. The emotions grabbed hold of the
weary Master and gave his soul the storm of a lifetime.
Earlier that night, the back alleys of town on Hunari
He'd been so hungry. He'd needed food. He didn't want to have
to fight for it, though. That was a risk. He'd have to steal
it, then, he'd realized. There had been soft voices and the
smell of roasting meat. Clinging to the shadows for cover, he'd
come closer. He could have grabbed the meat from the spit over
the fire, but he caught another whiff of it and his stomach
roiled as he was realized what the smell reminded him of.
No! He couldn't eat another of them, not after.
He'd thought it a reward, for fighting well and being an
enjoyable fuck. Every so often, his captors would shove a metal
slab of hot roasting coals into his cage, and with it a half
dead animal. It had meant meat. It had meant sustenance. For a
while, Obi-Wan had refused to kill creatures given to him. When
he refused, he went without any food at all until his next
fight.
He'd finally, starved and in a frenzy, killed one of his
rewards with his bare hands and ripped the flesh from its
carcass. He'd cooked the meat on his slab of coals and relished
it. It was wonderful the way the grease dripped down his chin
as his teeth bit into the hot, tender flesh.
He was given more of the creatures if he performed particularly
well. He came to treasure that reward of nourishment-- of life
itself. They hadn't come often enough to keep his weight up,
but he'd devoured them completely when they had come. He didn't
even mind having to skin the animals using his hands and teeth.
And then one dark day, one of his barbarian captors had laughed
heartily as he watched Obi-Wan wipe his greasy mouth with his
arm. He'd asked if the mother was as good as the daughter.
Obi-Wan didn't understand. The barbarian had then smirked at
him "Of course you wouldn't understand, you have no control of
the force-- no way you could recognize another force-sensitive
in those conditions. Is there, little fighter?"
"No. You're lying!" Oh, please, let him be lying!
The barbarian's smile was hideous in the soft light of
Obi-Wan's cooking embers. The evil twisted the alien's face so
that his pointed teeth glistened. The guard loomed over
Obi-Wan's cage and told him with glee, "Lifthu are. ugly as
hell, but highly intelligent and very strong in the Force. And
tasty, too, I gather!" His laughter echoed off the dank walls
of the dark sub-terrain room.
"Yes, little fighter, your last meal was the mother of the one
you devoured just last week. And if you're a good little whore
after the next Game, we have their succulent young cousin just
waiting for your coals."
Obi-Wan had retched horribly, vomiting until dry heaves
threatened to make his esophagus collapse. All the while, the
alien guard's laughter rang out and assaulted Obi-Wan's sanity.
He ate no more of the proffered meat, though he could hear the
shrieks of the creatures as the guards killed them anyway each
time Obi-Wan refused. Each Lifthu scream that he heard echoing
off the stone walls of the compound made Obi-Wan want to
disappear further inside his mind. He could do that, he
realized. He could hide the more tender parts of himself inside
his mind; send them to a quiet, peaceful place until it was
safe for them to come out. There were other parts of himself
that could stand guard. Parts of himself that didn't have to do
anything but make sure that he lived...
Obi-Wan then suddenly jerked out of a daze as the putrid odor
of roasting flesh invaded his nostrils. He suddenly couldn't
remember exactly why the smell of that roasting meat made him
sick; he just knew he wouldn't eat it. He'd stalked off in
search of something else, brushing aside the nagging nausea of
a faded memory.
He'd found his meal after a wary search that led him to the
back door of a café, and then he'd scurried into the
approaching to find a safe place to gobble his find. And
shortly thereafter, he'd been found himself. The tall one with
the hood over his head had startled him. He'd also done
something to him, to his head, that he couldn't understand.
Obi-Wan just knew that he had been sinking into unwilling
unconsciousness and was carried away again. He had wanted to
fight and claw and get away, but he couldn't. He had been
furious, to again be rendered helpless, and he was falling into
blackness.
He was struggling again for consciousness, but something heavy
and dark was clamped over his mind, preventing him from opening
his eyes. Then Obi-Wan felt himself being tugged mercilessly
deeper into sleep.
Qui-Gon wasn't sure how long he spent sitting there, quietly
raging, relief and fear washing over him in turns as he tried
to meditate. But he did finally unwind his long legs and settle
into a more comfortable pose. He needed to try to reach
Obi-Wan's mind. He didn't want to rouse him too much; that
might negate the sedative. But he wanted to make at least a
tentative attempt to reach him. It had been so long.
Gently, his mind probed. His mental footsteps were light and
cautious as he approached the gate to Obi-Wan's inner self. He
gave a soft push onto that gate. There was no resistance at
all. Not even the rudimentary shields the young man had erected
as a Padawan. Qui-Gon was worried.
He looked around and found himself in a dense, dark forest.
Obi-Wan? He called softly. No response. It's okay,
love, it's only Qui-Gon, you're safe now. He felt a
flicker. Apprehension. He turned around and walked behind a
wide tree, following the tendril of emotion. He looked down and
gasped.
Obi-Wan was naked, curled into a ball, but looking up at him
warily, panting, exhausted like a wounded animal. Carefully and
slowly, Qui-Gon knelt. Shsh. It's okay, Qui-Gon crooned.
Obi-Wan's breathing quickened even more as Qui-Gon started to
reach a hand out to caress him. Seeing Obi-Wan's fear he
retreated his hand. I won't force my touch on you, love. You
don't remember me, do you. Well, that's okay, Obi-Wan. You
will. When you're ready.
He felt his insides knot as he watched this beautiful, fearful
creature shrink from him, too sleepy to run from him. The
sedative was apparently affecting his mind as well as body.
Obi-Wan was reduced to a primitive being who had no knowledge
of the force or how to use it, and he had no idea that in his
subconscious mind, he had the freedom to move and run and
think. But he would wear himself out mentally, futilely trying
to shield himself from this interloper of the mind. And Qui-Gon
was a stranger to Obi-Wan now. So Qui-Gon reluctantly stood and
prepared to fade away from his love's mind. Qui-Gon would not
remain a stranger forever. Obi-Wan was his Bondmate.
His. He'd have him back.
I love you, Obi-Wan, he whispered sadly and smiled down
at the confused young man at his feet. Then he turned and
walked away.
Coli was right, Obi-Wan would not have been ready to face
Coruscant, the shape he was in. So Qui-Gon administered another
half dose of the sedative twelve hours after the first one.
They were two hours out of Coruscant, and that meant the
sedative would last through about four hours after their
arrival.
Qui-Gon checked on Obi-Wan one more time before bringing the
shuttle out of hyperspace for the last leg of the journey. He'd
pilot her in the rest of the way himself.
When he landed at last and lowered the ramp, he was greeted by
Yoda and two Healers.
"He's heavily sedated. He'll have to be carried to the
infirmary," Qui-Gon explained vaguely and ducked back inside.
When he emerged, all three of his greeters gasped. "He's lost
quite a bit of weight," Qui-Gon replied to the unasked
questions. "But otherwise, physically he seems to be okay."
"Psychologically?" Yoda inquired.
"I've never seen anything like it, Master. He's. he's lost all
sense of who he is. He's lost his sense of. not humanity, but
rather. civility?"
"Ahh," Yoda replied cryptically as they walked toward the
infirmary. The healers had gestured to take Obi-Wan from him,
but Qui-Gon had firmly balked. He'd not give up this burden so
easily.
"Master?" Qui-Gon pressed, sensing that Yoda had something on
his mind.
"He's given in to his base self."
"I don't understand," but Qui-Gon did not like the sound of it.
"A survivor inside all of us, there is. Obi-Wan has needed to
let his survivor take him over. He does not realize yet that
his other selves may come out now. Coax them out, we must."
"Master Yoda is most likely correct. We can feel him now,
subconsciously projecting the most basic of instincts, even in
his state of unconsciousness." The tall woman, Healer Re-ahl
spoke softly, but her words seemed to sing around them. It was
quite soothing, Qui-Gon realized, despite what she was saying.
"So what do we do?" There was no doubt that Qui-Gon intended to
be part of it, and neither the Healers nor Yoda argued.
Re-ahl did not hesitate to answer. "First, we get some
nutrition into him, intravenously until he's conscious, and
then I believe that you, Master Jinn, need to contact him. Your
lifebond was incomplete before he was taken, but it had begun.
You should begin there."
"I've contacted him through the bond already. While he was
sleeping on the shuttle. He didn't recognize me, but he was too
exhausted to run away. Or he would have. I could see it in his
eyes. He had no shields. I don't think he remembers how to
erect them."
They rounded the corner to the infirmary and the Healer
replied, "Building shields takes more conscious thought. His
most primitive self would react on almost purely instinct,
fighting to stay alive. Mental exercises would hinder that and
so he would have had no chance to practice or keep up
shielding. It sounds as if he was under dampeners except for
the brief intervals when you felt him, and at those times, I
would imagine he was under physical duress."
"If he could rarely the force, why take Force sensitives for
slaves?" Qui-Gon muttered, confused, tired and irritated.
"Occasional physical uses for the Force, it appears," Yoda
answered, ignoring his former Padawan's exhausted agitation,
likely seeing it for what it was and understanding.
"I hope we are able to find out soon," Healer Sh'brin spoke for
the first time. Qui-Gon turned to acknowledge the mournful and
youthful face for the first time. Of course, Sh'brin and
Obi-Wan had been friends. Sh'brin had been apprenticed to the
Master Healers the same time Obi-Wan was apprenticed to him.
They placed Obi-Wan onto the high bed in the first examining
room they encountered.
Qui-Gon allowed himself to feel the concern Obi-Wan's friend
radiated. It comforted his torn heart. He put his hand on the
gangly young man's shoulder. "We'll get him back, Sh'brin."
Qui-Gon desperately needed to say it out loud. It helped him to
more firmly believe it.
The young Healer turned a knowing, compassionate blue-eyed gaze
to him and smiled. "I know we will. And now you know it, too."
Qui-Gon couldn't help but grin. "You've been taught well. My
compliments to you, Re-ahl."
She nodded in acknowledgement. "Now, let's get him fed so that
you can try to reach him again."
There were some rays of sunlight beaming through the leaves of
the trees. He was curious. Would he enjoy their warmth?
Probably. But instinct told him that if he ventured to the warm
light, he would be seen. To be seen was to be caught. To be
caught meant pain. It meant hunger. It meant a sweaty barbarian
plastered to his back rutting him into a dirty mattress until
he bled.
Obi-Wan crouched further into the shadows.
He heard a soft voice, calling out. It didn't sound like a
fighting animal, but then again, not all of them did until it
was too late.
There had been another soft voice too, one that hadn't sounded
like a vicious creature. That voice had pretended to soothe.
Obi-Wan remembered clearly.
A tall man, strong but not bulky. He had petted his hair
instead of groping his genitals. He had said soft words to him
instead of shouting at him or not speaking to him at all. He
didn't know what those gentle words meant, but he heard 'hush,
little one.' Over and over. The voice had made him relax. It
made him want to close his eyes. The voice was somehow able to
make him trust.
The gentle caress on his hair made his muscles go lax. The
sweep of strong hands on his shoulders made him go peacefully
still.
He only barely noticed when his loincloth was tenderly pulled
away. The gentle hands kneaded his back. He knew he'd made a
contented sound in his throat. 'That's it, little one,' he'd
then heard several times, the sounds making him sleepy. Would
he be allowed to rest, finally? With a kind-hearted creature to
keep him warm?
And then he'd felt the terrible, shocking pain of a large
object shoved up and into his rectum. He'd howled out his pain,
but instead of the soothing voice, he'd only heard heinous
laughter as the beast tore into him again and again.
He'd screamed and writhed, cursed his stupidity in letting
himself be lured by the false promise of strange but silky
words.
No, he didn't want to be fooled by a gentle voice again.
He wanted to run. The voice was getting closer. But unable to
stop himself, he paused. He'd heard that voice before. He hid
behind his tree, watching with narrowed eyes.
The bearded face seemed familiar. Not like a fighting creature.
Blue eyes caught his own and he froze, terror and the familiar
promise of warmth warring within.
Slowly, the animal with the bearded face sat down, its line of
sight fixed on his location, but not staring at him anymore eye
to eye. The creature was telling him that he wasn't a threat.
Then what did he want? Obi-Wan had to wonder. He couldn't help
but wonder. Should he find out? Instincts within him
conflicted.
What was that creature doing with his face? It's mouth was
going wide. His teeth weren't exactly showing, though. It was a
curious thing to see. It was something that rather made Obi-Wan
at ease. He decided this curious creature warranted a closer
look. He crouched down and went to the other side of the tree.
The animal with the bearded face pretended not to see him
anymore, but Obi-Wan knew better. As long as he let Obi-Wan
circle around him, it would be okay, though. The animal barely
turned his head, but didn't look at him. He was letting him go
behind his back. Either this animal was very dumb or trusted
him. Didn't he realize that to let another behind you made you
weak?
Obi-Wan crawled ever closer. He angled to the side of the
bearded animal, and closely watched him for signs of sudden
movement. There were none.
He looked and for the first time, noticed there was something
in the man's lap. Bread? The animal's face did that strange
thing again with his mouth. It made the skin around his eyes
crinkle. It made Obi-Wan's belly flutter pleasantly. Moving
very slowly, the animal lifted the bread and held it in
Obi-Wan's direction. Obi-Wan's eyes fell on the tempting brown
loaf. Oh, he was so hungry.
Obi-Wan snatched it quickly and backed away. He was still in
view of the animal, but about ten paces away. He sank his teeth
into the bread and ripped a large piece away. It was
sustenance. It was good.
"The nutrients are working their way into his system. His
vitals are growing stronger. He could wake soon. Will we let
Master Jinn stay with him while he awakes?"
"No, Sh'brin, I think it could be a shock to him to have Master
Jinn so solidly in his mind while he is awake and in the
Master's physical presence. One or the other, but not at the
same time. Try to rouse Master Jinn now, he should retreat with
enough time to spare for Obi-Wan's awakening."
Sh'brin closed his eyes and concentrated. He smiled softly and
then opened his eyes again. "He doesn't want to leave yet, but
he will be along. He promised."
Qui-Gon smiled again while Obi-Wan finished the bread. It
wasn't real, of course, the feeding line was giving him the
nutrition, but it was good to see the embodiment of Obi-Wan
being fed.
He realized his smiles were gaining him very curious looks. He
was wondering why when he felt the warning tug in his mind from
Sh'brin. He didn't want to go yet, but he knew that it was a
sign from the healer that Obi-Wan would be waking any time now.
He sighed, and after watching Obi-Wan for another minute, rose
to leave.
Obi-Wan flinched when he got up. "It's okay, Obi-Wan. I'm just
going to go now. I'll see you soon," he whispered and slowly
began to back away.
He kept his eyes on the green-blue gaze that followed him. He
could have sworn that Obi-Wan was disappointed that he was
leaving. "Soon, Obi-Wan. I' ll see you soon," he soothed as he
back away and faded back from the young man's mind.
He stood and stretched, having been in meditation with Obi-Wan
for almost two hours.
"Welcome back. How is he?" Re-ahl asked.
"Wary. I think he recognizes me on some level, but is still too
afraid to trust me. He wouldn't let me get too close, but he
did accept the offering of food from me." He couldn't help but
be hopeful.
"That's a good sign," Sh'brin assured. Re-ahl confirmed with a
nod.
A soft sigh and sleepy groan, and all three turned their gazes
to the man on the bed. His eyes opened groggily, but when he
took in the faces of the healers, his expression turned to
panic and he scrambled off of the bed, the intravenous line
snapping off of his arm.
He scurried to a corner and crouched, but looked very ready to
spring into action if he wished. The two healers immediately
backed off, not wanting to frighten him into a flight or fight
ultimatum. He was clad only in sleep pants, and all three
observers were drawn to the vision of very lean muscles and
pale skin that only barely covered the young man's ribs.
"He's fit, but entirely too thin," Re-ahl remarked softly and
slowly.
Obi-Wan calmed when none of the three made a move to come
closer. But he was definitely on guard. His eyes flickered
between all of them, settling longest and most often on
Qui-Gon. The Master remembered the curious expressions he got
from the younger man in his mind when he smiled. And so he did.
Obi-Wan's gaze narrowed in recognition of the expression, and
he further calmed. Qui-Gon slowly got down on all fours,
thinking it best to be at eye level, to be less threatening.
Obi-Wan slowly crawled to him, but then angled to get behind
him.
Re-ahl grinned. "He's going to use you as a shield, Qui-Gon. If
that's not instinct, I don't know what is."
"What do you mean?" he asked, watching Obi-Wan from the corner
of his eye.
"Whenever you had to bring him to the infirmary when he was
still apprenticed to you, what did he used to do?"
Qui-Gon chuckled as he remembered. Obi-Wan had never liked
coming to the Healers. He'd always slipped behind him, as if
the Healers wouldn't be able to find him if he hid behind his
Master. Qui-Gon had teased him mercilessly at times. The young
man would face a Bantha in heat or a double-crossed Hutt, but
didn't like to be examined by the Healers.
"Well then. If being in the Infirmary is reaching some
instinctive or remembered discomfort, then maybe we should get
him to my quarters? Maybe familiar surroundings will help to
bring him back, anyway?"
"That was going to be my next suggestion. In fact, Master Jinn,
I have taken the liberty of having your quarters secured. All
sharp objects removed, anything that could be dangerous, used
as a weapon. And we've secured the door so that a code is
necessary to get in or out. We can't have him sneaking away."
Re-ahl explained her measured decisions while Obi-Wan slowly
crept closer to Qui-Gon. Carefully, Obi-Wan stood, and tugged
at Qui-Gon's arms, obviously wanting him to do the same. He did
as his Obi-Wan wished.
"So, should we have the halls cleared for the walk to our
quarters?"
"I think that's an excellent idea." Re-ahl walked to the comm
unit on the wall and placed her request. "I'll also let Master
Yoda know we are on the way."
The closer Obi-Wan came to the bearded creature, the more he
realized he was detecting a familiar scent. The musk and spice
of the animal reached a place deep inside him that made him
want to rub against the tall creature. But still, he wasn't
sure. He had trusted before.
The beast who'd tricked him. There was something about him,
too, that had made him trust, made him drop his guard. At last
Obi-Wan was directly behind the bearded one. He furrowed his
brow and leaned closer. and again sniffed. Yes! He did know
this one. The smell was indisputable-- this creature was his
mate, he was sure.
How could he have forgotten? Did the barbarians steal him so
long ago that he had forgotten his mate? He sniffed again. Oh
yes. There was something of the smell that spoke of home, of
belonging. Wherever they did belong, Obi-Wan wanted them to get
there soon. This place made him nervous.
He stood behind his mate, having pulled him up in front of him.
He gave a gentle nudge, wishing they could communicate. He
wanted to leave. Then, the bearded one turned his head and
spoke softly. He couldn't make himself understand the words. He
did catch one thing-- Obi-Wan. The way he had said it
felt like a caress, as if his mate had rubbed his hand over his
hair.
The bearded one began to walk and Obi-Wan followed, watching
behind them carefully. They always got you from behind, when
you weren't looking. He kept his eyes open and alert for the
beast who could carry one of them away again. They would not
get him again, or his mate. He would die a bloody, clawing
death before he allowed that to happen.
They walked through a forest of tall stone and rock, this place
familiar in a way Obi-Wan couldn't comprehend. But he knew that
he felt a sense of rightness; this place was home, and
somewhere in it, was the home he and his mate had made
together.
They came to a doorway, and Obi-Wan watched while the bearded
one made it open with his hand. They stepped inside and Obi-Wan
felt a strange and unnerving hum in his head. Someone, or
something was vibrating its way into his mind...He looked
around, one hand clutching his mate's sleeve.
There, sitting on the floor in the middle of this room, was an
odd little creature with large eyes, watching him curiously. He
sensed power in the creature, but not the kind that frightened
him. The kind that was warm and he was tempted to go closer.
He turned questioning eyes to his mate, who nodded and smiled.
yes, that thing with his mouth was a called a smile. Obi-Wan
turned back to the little green creature. It was waving him
forward. He was drawn to it. He eased to his knees and slowly
crawled.
The creature reached out and touched his forehead. Obi-Wan
closed his eyes.
He felt himself fading away, but it was a pleasant sensation
and he didn't fight it. When he opened his eyes he was in the
familiar forest of his dreams and the green creature was there.
Obi-Wan's head was in its lap. It felt right. This. old one, he
was part of his family somehow, part of this home. Obi-Wan's
heart urged him to glean wisdom from this elder.
"Lost, you have been."
"Yes, Master."
He could communicate with this one. And he knew his. name?
"A Master is what I am, among many things, young Obi-Wan."
"There is much I don't understand."
"Ready, you are not. Hiding from a threat, you are. Discover
the threat, we must."
"A beast. A. predator. He is near. I have to be ready. He will
come for me again, or for my mate. I can only protect us from
him if I am like this. But like this, there is much I cannot
grasp."
"Ah, young Obi-Wan. The others inside of you are still you.
Forgotten how to let them be part of you, you have. And they
are able to grasp."
Obi-wan sighed as he considered the Master's words. "Why can I
not communicate with my mate?"
The green Master chuckled, albeit a little sadly. "Want to, you
do not. Make you remember, he can."
"And ready I am not?"
"Ever the bright student, Obi-Wan."
"But I have to, don't I? Or I won't truly be able to protect
us," he felt himself shiver as he acknowledged it.
"Yes. You are home now, Obi-Wan. There is no need for this
survivor in you to take over your mind. Time to be whole again,
it is."
"How?" he was almost afraid to ask.
"Remember, you must."
"What should I remember, Master?"
"Only you can say."
Obi-Wan felt a shudder run through him. When the barbarians
came to take him. That's what he had to remember. He thought
about asking if his mate could be there with him when he
remembered, but then decided no. For some reason, he didn't
want the gentle bearded one to see.
"Understand, he will."
"What happened to me, or that I don't want him to see it?"
"Both."
"He. he loves me. Doesn't he," he whispered.
"Very much. More than he should sometimes, I think."
Obi-Wan turned his head and looked at the little Master
quizzically. "Discussion for another time, that is," he
answered Obi-Wan's unvoiced question.
"But it means he should see. Doesn't it," he asked with dread.
"It does. Because the one to truly help you, he is. The one who
will help you be whole again, he is. And love you still, he
will, even when he sees the ugliness and shame you wish to
hide."
Despite the gravity of their discussion, Obi-Wan grew more
relaxed in the presence of the elder. The evil beast was still
out there somewhere, and he was close; Obi-Wan could sense it.
But here, in this dwelling, he felt safer than he could
remember.
Remember. It was his duty to do so now. Duty. That somehow
meant something very profound to him as well. It was a concept
he hadn't had much use for when he was held at the compound,
but he was beginning to realize that it was nonetheless deeply
ingrained in him. Part of it was for his mate, he was certain.
But a bigger part of that sense of devotion extended beyond his
realm of understanding.
"Tired, you are. But there are things you know that you must
tell us, Obi-Wan. There is another in danger, as you were" Yoda
explained softly and petted his hair absently.
"One of our own?" Obi-Wan asked, but somehow knew that it
didn't matter. A soul in trouble needed him.
"Yes, a Knight, just as you are. If help him we do not, suffer
your fate he will."
Obi-Wan felt a twinge of fear and a pang of sympathy. But to
make himself begin, he needed... something.
"Someone, you mean. It is time to call Qui-Gon to us," Yoda
explained. Obi-Wan felt a shiver as he realized his mate's name
was familiar. He would remember it all, soon.
He felt his mate's, Qui-Gon's, presence tentatively seek entry
into his mind. Obi-Wan's first instinct was to turn away, but
after just a moment, it felt right and he relaxed again.
He spared a glance to look at the kind face he knew would be
there. He felt a twinge in his heart at the pain he saw there.
His mate was hurt by his reluctance to trust him completely. He
lifted himself slowly from the comfortable lap of the tiny
elder and crawled to Qui-Gon. He stopped in front of him and
settled into a seated position that mirrored the older man's.
Qui-Gon lifted a hand slowly to cup his cheek. Before he could
help himself, Obi-Wan was nuzzling into that touch. And
suddenly he could not understand his earlier apprehension, not
when this felt so good, so right.
"I've missed you, Obi-Wan," the rich voice spoke in a soothing
tone.
"I can understand you now," Obi-Wan gasped, relieved, but a
little awed. He did not reply to his mate's words, though; he
wasn't sure how. Qui-Gon was making him feel more at ease, but
he didn't really remember him to miss him back. And now he had
to remember who he himself had been and how it all been taken
away from him. Could he really do it?
"You are growing more ready by the moment, and a bridge of
understanding I can provide," Yoda supplied.
"I know it's difficult, my Obi-Wan, but we need to know what
happened to you. Can you tell us how they came to take you?"
Qui-Gon asked gently.
Obi-Wan furrowed his brow. He concentrated very hard, but the
images, the memories spun in his head and refused to be pinned
down.
"It's okay, love. Why not try to work your way backward then,
hmm? Can you tell us why they had you? Can you tell us what
they. did to you?"
Obi-Wan could hear how it hurt his mate to speak those words
and he wanted to ease that pain. But at the same time, he knew
that that would have to wait until after the telling. It was
part of their duty.
Obi-Wan sighed. It would be so hard, but he could tell them
about the fights and what happened after. Those details were
fresh in his mind. Too fresh.
He was kept in a subterranean level of a compound. His cage was
not tall enough for him to stand upright, and when he laid
down, he could not stretch to full length unless he laid down
diagonally, corner to corner. He had a small blanket, but if he
covered himself with it to sleep, he had nothing to cushion
himself against the cold metal grate of the cage. If he laid on
the blanket, he would get cold. So usually, he would curl up as
small as he could so he could lay on a portion of it and wrap
the rest over his shoulders. He would have to straighten his
legs occasionally despite the chill, or they would cramp when
they finally let him out.
It was dark on his level, but he knew there were others held
there. His was the only cage in that room, but he knew there
other rooms from when they pulled him out to fight. But he had
to be careful with his stolen glances, lest he be struck in the
head for impertinence.
He tried to use his peripheral vision when he could, knowing
that survival demanded he try to be alert to his surroundings.
The walk to the Pit was familiar to him. He was pushed and
prodded through a maze of very dimly lit corridors that smelled
musty from moisture gathering on the stone walls. There was
always a stop first, on the way to the Pit. It was the cleaning
area. A sanitary name for a hideous place.
The guards rarely spoke directly to him, but he gathered from
the talk amongst themselves that his captors liked him to look
clean-shaven and somewhat clean. It made him appear younger and
more vulnerable to the crowd and made his vicious fighting all
the more dramatic. So in this dank room with metal contraptions
for holding him in place, they would douse him with a high
pressure water hose over every patch of his body.
The worst was when they'd fed him anything of substance in the
day before his fight. That meant that they would clean out his
bowels as well, rather than just squirt the hose over his
tightly clenched opening. Arms chained behind his back, they
would bend him over the cold metal table in the dark room and
rough hands would spread his buttocks while another would push
a plastic tube into his rectum. The water was always too cold,
and when they lifted the bag for it to gush into him, it was
always a shock to his system.
He would be filled to the point that he would sob at the
extreme feeling of distress, and he could feel cold rivulets of
the water leaking from his anus. The guards muttered and
complained about the task to one another, but conceded that it
was better that way, since if the little fighter died,
they didn't want the crowd to smell the release of his bowels
upon his death. The patrons loved the smell of blood and
death, of course, but they had their limits.
When the tube was removed and he was allowed to expel the
contents of his bowels, it was such a relief that he thought
not of humiliation. Embarrassment lost its meaning in the face
of survival.
Once they had his loin cloth fastened again, he was shoved the
rest of the way to the Pit. Outside the entrance, they would
blindfold him and wrap heavy cloths over his ears to block out
sensory stimulus as much as possible before he was shoved in.
He was always left chained that way for some time before they
came for him again.
Just outside the entryway, they would whip off his manacles and
then they would fling him through the door and close it behind
him.
That Pit was the only place in his captivity where he could
reach the Force. It was such an electric feeling, to be able to
sense the thrum of life around him. But he could never enjoy
it. Seconds after he was in, he was tearing off the blindfold
and ear covers, fighting for his life.
He was expected to put on a show for a bloodthirsty crowd. He
was supposed to fight a hungry and wild animal with his bare
hands, and he was expected to kill it. That didn't actually
present a problem to Obi-Wan. In order to save himself, he had
to inflict agonizing pain to the creature, and to kill it after
that was more of a mercy in Obi-Wan's estimation.
From the shouts of the crowd, he realized that they were
placing bets on the outcome of the fight. There were
simultaneous screams of joy and anger through every fight.
Those who placed currency on the beast were always furious when
Obi-Wan bested the formidable creature.
But once it was defeated, it was mere seconds before the thick
netting dropped on him and tightened while he was still weak
from his fight. Still kicking and yelling in frustration, he
was dragged from the pit and was again separated from the song
of the Force. It was always too soon. He hadn't had a chance to
commune, speak, or just find peace in the encompassing and
comforting presence of the Force. All he'd been able to do was
call upon it for increased physical ability in his fight for
his life.
And after that fight came the fight with himself. He warred
with himself each and every time a crowd full of bettors would
line up to appraise him. They would bid on the right to bed him
and do as they wished, barring debilitating injury. His mental
skirmish was over whether or not to divorce his mind from what
would happen in the dingy room.
He could always tell if the high bidder had been a loser in the
bets. They seemed to want to take those losses out on Obi-Wan's
hide. They wanted to fuck him harder and make him scream
louder. Obi-Wan thought it was a good reason to take himself
away when it was happening.
Part of Obi-Wan insisted that he needed to remain alert at all
times, to look for a way to escape. Another part of him cried
out that if he wasn't present mentally, it wasn't really
happening to him. He wasn't being violated. They weren't taking
from him something intended solely for his lifemate. For
Qui-Gon.
Finally, his inner sense of self-preservation led him to make a
mental compromise. Obi-Wan could slip inside of himself to
protect the more vulnerable parts of himself, and the survivor
in him would protect them all. He would fight, scrape, maim and
kill. He would be alert at all times for the opportunity to
run. The parts of himself that were too human to grasp the
reality of his torture were safely tucked away and saved from
the pain and humiliation; and they would remain in that safe,
hidden place in Obi-Wan's mind until the stronger part of
himself freed them.
Obi-Wan had tried to skip the unnecessary details, but all the
memories were so woven together. And he wasn't sure how to pick
and choose what to hide and what to reveal. Images, sights,
smells, feelings. they came pouring out of him once he had
gathered his courage to tell. Oh, and Force, it hurt to tell.
He snapped his head up, realizing that he'd been steadily
sobbing for quite some time. They were in the common room of
the quarters he shared with Qui-Gon. Yoda sat patiently in the
big, plush chair. Qui-Gon was seated on the floor, his back
against the sofa. Obi-Wan was half in his Lifemate's lap, his
face buried in the older man's soft tunic, his forehead over
Qui-Gon's heart.
"It's okay, now," Qui-Gon crooned with an emotion-roughened
voice. "You're okay now. You're safe, beloved."
"Send help to Knight Coli, I must. In grave danger, he is.
Thank you, Obi-Wan. Your courage is vast. Made a difference,
you have, to Errin's Coli's safety."
"Please, Master Yoda. See that help arrives quickly," Obi-Wan
managed through his tightened throat.
Qui-Gon ran soothing caresses down his mate's trembling back
and nodded farewell to Yoda as he left. "I think you need a
rest, Obi-Wan. Some sleep and then some real food. How does
that sound?"
Obi-Wan peered into his mate's bloodshot eyes. Their startling
blue intensity made his heart squeeze. He didn't remember
everything yet, but snatches of a life with this man were
fighting their way into his consciousness. And yet it was so
hard to keep his eyes open.
"There is time, love. Sleep first. The rest will come in due
course."
And Qui-Gon stood, took Obi-Wan's hand and gently led him to
the bedroom. Obi-Wan felt the brunt of his exhaustion as he
laid down. He reveled in the comfort of the big soft bed, and
in the warmth of Qui-Gon's embrace when he spooned against him.
He could feel the beat of his Bondmate's heart as he drifted
into peaceful sleep.
The next few days were trying. Obi-Wan gradually regained his
memories of his life before enslavement, but he was easily
startled and often growled deep in his throat to express his
fear, anxiety and general displeasure.
A galloping group of Temple initiates barreled around the
corner on Obi-Wan's third day back while he and Qui-Gon were on
their way to meet with the Council. The group of children were
as startled as Obi-Wan when they nearly crashed into one
another. The frazzled pair of padawans who were trying to
control the children caught up with them just in time to hear
Obi-Wan's low growl. The two wide eyed apprentices apologized
profusely and Obi-Wan graciously accepted, but the padawans
were still projecting fear as they gathered their charges and
continued on their way.
It wouldn't be long, Qui-Gon knew, before the temple's
population of padawans were gossiping about the strangely
animalistic tendencies of the legendary Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Obi-Wan's regression into his primal self was paradoxically an
embarrassment to the young Knight as he recuperated, and yet it
was his most effective coping mechanism at the time.
Yoda had tried to comfort Obi-Wan by explaining to him that
that part of himself was always there, and that it exists in
everyone. And by the same token, the other parts of himself
never actually went away; they just stayed in hiding until it
was safe to come out.
Obi-Wan seemed to take the most heart from Yoda's other
observation; while Obi-Wan had reverted to a more primitive
form of himself to survive, his captors and those who
frequented the fights were the true barbarians. They had finer
clothes and a more refined appearance than did Obi-Wan during
his captivity, and yet who else but a savage would relish that
form of entertainment?
Obi-Wan knew that true humanity was defined by the soul. His
experience had been a bitter reminder of that. But Master
Yoda's words on the matter soothed Obi-Wan in a way that
Qui-Gon envied.
Oh, he was grateful that Yoda could reach Obi-Wan; his
heartmate needed it desperately. But Qui-Gon admitted to
himself that it stung that he could not accomplish that
himself. Obi-Wan was home, but he had changed. He was not his
in the way he had been before he was taken.
On Obi-Wan's third night home, they lay cuddled in Qui-Gon's
bed, listening to one another's heart beats. Soothing caresses
of re-acquaintance slowly simmered into clutches and open
mouthed kisses of need.
Qui-Gon could feel the fire and yearning for possession coming
from his mate in steady waves. They'd only had their one night
together, but Qui-Gon knew that this was different from the
passionate man he'd shared his bonding bed with. What he felt
from Obi-Wan was an instinctive drive to claim his mate. It
excited and unnerved him all at once. He wanted Obi-Wan
desperately, but it was so soon...
As Obi-Wan's frenzy built, his own surety began to falter. This
was a complete change in the dynamic of their relationship. Oh,
he would happily allow obi-Wan to take him. but this surge of
dominance that his mate was exerting; this was so very new.
Obi-Wan kissed him deeply and breathlessly while he
possessively stroked Qui-Gon's long body. Qui-Gon tingled in
every cell and his desire was spiking, but that only served to
confuse him further. Obi-Wan had had no practice at playing
this role, and Qui-Gon realized that Obi-Wan had to have been
acting on instinct, which meant that this was a part of him all
along.
He loved Obi-Wan as fiercely as ever but he could not help but
grieve at least a little for the young man who'd happily given
himself over to him their first night together.
Oh, but Obi-Wan's touch felt so good! He was soon unable to
think about what had been, for his mate was driving him to
blissful heights of what was to be.
When Obi-Wan stroked oil slick fingers deep inside him, he
moaned helplessly and lifted his long legs wantonly for better
access. And when Obi-Wan's thick, throbbing cock slid into him,
lights exploded behind his eyes and he was afloat in the
intensity of sensation.
The friction was glorious and the rhythm relentless. Surging in
and gliding out, Obi-Wan pumped into him with strength and
love. He could feel it pouring from his powerful life force.
Obi-Wan's palm barely stroked his needful hardness and the
thrilling tingle of impending release made his balls tighten.
One more powerful stroke, and Qui-Gon came hard, shouting and
pulsing between their sweat-slick bellies. Obi-Wan groaned in
release seconds later and collapsed to his Bondmate's broad
chest.
As he languidly came back to himself, Qui-Gon suddenly had an
ugly thought. What if Obi-Wan was trying to exert his dominance
as a reaction to having been repeatedly raped? Because he could
no longer trust anyone, even his mate, enough to give of
himself again?
If that were the case, he would have to work to get Obi-Wan to
learn to trust again, or he would never truly be whole, as he
once was. He couldn't make himself regret the love they'd just
made, but Qui-Gon knew that it had just been too soon. They had
so far to go yet.
He tightened his arms around the younger man's warm body and
relaxed as his resolve to heal his beloved took root in his
heart.
"Master Yoda... what if passing the trials was a mistake?"
Obi-Wan suddenly whispered, interrupting their quiet,
contemplative morning meditation.
Yoda slowly opened his eyes and laid a gentle gaze upon the
young knight.
"Discussed this with Qui-Gon, you have?"
"No, I haven't. He's been so worried about me. I couldn't tell
him this, too. Is it possible, though? That I wasn't ready?"
Obi-Wan was proud that his voice remained neutral.
"No. Ready you were. A fine Knight you are. Ask for a reason,
you do."
Obi-Wan's eyes fell to the soft grass beneath his knees in the
garden. "I did things at that place that I think I cannot
forgive myself for. That a true Jedi would not have done."
"Jedi you are. Human you are. A Knight is not perfect. Even a
Master is not perfect. Who is to say what a true Jedi would not
do in a place such as that?"
"Master Yoda... I've done something unforgivable, though. I
remembered it this morning. One moment I was curled against
Qui-Gon, the next I was retching until my stomach couldn't take
any more. Qui-Gon... he thinks that I was sick in remembrance
of what they did to me. But I was sick in remembrance of what I
did to others.." Obi-Wan stood and turned away from the
concerned old Master. His shoulders shook as the images he'd
recalled earlier came battering into his mind again.
"Help you, I will. But tell me what troubles you, you must,"
Yoda gently prodded.
Obi-Wan turned and felt his eyes fill. "Master Yoda, what do
you know about a species called Lifthu?"
Yoda shook his head sadly. "Gentle species, they are, by
nature. Not skilled enough to fight you, no. Faced many in
combat, you did?"
Obi-Wan fell to his knees and sobs wracked his lean frame.
"No..." he choked. "Ate many, I did. I-- I didn't know.
The Hunari didn't tell me until... I had already eaten some...
I was mad with hunger. I was cut off from the force... I didn't
know they were sentient creatures..." Obi-Wan held the back of
his head as he released his anguish and shame. "They shoved
them, already dying, into my cage as a reward sometimes, if I
fought well, and-- and-- they gave me coals, to... to cook them
on..." Obi-Wan trembled violently with the last of his
confession.
His face was upturned with a gentle three finger hand. "To
blame, you are not. Toyed with, you were. There is little I can
say to ease your mind, young Obi-Wan. Sentient, they are."
"I shouldn't be here. Hunari... that was my trial and I
failed..."
Yoda laid his hand on Obi-Wan's head, and gently stroked.
"Failed, you did not. Survived you, did. You lived, Obi-Wan.
Their deaths were not in vain. If not you, the Hunari would
have found another tool to kill the Lifthu. Those who died by
your hand, gave their physical form so that another could live.
Good has come of it, and must continue to come of it."
"How will I ever learn to live with what I've done?"
"Time, Obi-Wan. In time, you will see. It was not what you have
done. It was what was done to you, and the Lifthu. Absolve
yourself, you must. And you must be grateful that you are alive
to see justice done."
Obi-Wan wiped his tear soaked face with his sleeve. "I have to
remember everything else in order to see justice done. What if
I remember something even more horrible than this?"
"Tempted to block your mind, you are, hmm? Then the Lifthu
sacrifice would be meaningless. Do not let your fear endanger
others. If you do not remember, others will suffer as you have
suffered. As the Lifthu have suffered."
Obi-Wan understood. Yes, it would be so tempting to let his
fear keep his mind closed. He had to remember that he
could overcome the other memories buried in his mind.
Yoda, Qui-Gon, Sh'brin, all of his friends... they would help
him.
He couldn't help the Lifthu who had already died, nor the
creatures he'd been forced to fight. He could only help those
who were about to die at the hands of his captors. For them,
and for Justice, he would remember.
"Please, help me to remember, Master Yoda."
Obi-Wan's sixth day back, he and Qui-Gon spent a great deal of
time in meditation. Obi-Wan needed to try to remember more
details of his capture. Knight Errin Coli was in a dangerous
position. They were about to call in the reinforcements to make
the actual arrests at the Durhi family compound. There would be
few Republic guards involved, the senate claiming
short-handedness. So it would be a small crew from the Republic
Guard plus a few teams of Jedi; and they had to get Coli out of
there before it all happened, or he could be killed.
They needed to know how they had managed to find Obi-Wan in
order to take him. His contacts had had no idea who he was, and
Obi-Wan had already asserted that he knew he hadn't been
followed by any of them. Of that he was certain. So that meant
someone had either recognized him, or set him up. It was
becoming mission critical for Obi-Wan to remember.
They had tried having Yoda enter his mind so the old master
could pick and sort through his memories. That hadn't worked.
Not all Jedi were able to open their minds completely to
others, and even a master couldn't pry open a mind that just
did not want to be.
Qui-Gon had tried as well, but was dismayed to find he couldn't
even get as far as Yoda. He quickly tamped down the small spike
of hurt-- jealously, if he was being honest. It was then that
Yoda had left and instructed Obi-Wan to try meditation to
unlock the memories himself. On his way out, he sent a sharp
glance Qui-Gon's way.
"Talk to you alone this evening, I will, Padawan," Yoda
informed him sternly. Qui-Gon nodded meekly, and Obi-Wan
watched with interest, clearly having missed the earlier subtle
by-play between the other two.
Once Yoda was gone, though, Obi-Wan focused on the task at
hand. He went deeply within himself, determined to unlock the
memories of the day he was captured.
He'd met with his last contact and had sent his report to the
Council. Dead ends. No one he spoke with could confirm the
information he had been given. As he stalked back to his
transport, a peculiar thought nagged at him, though.
None of his contacts had been resistant to subtle manipulation
or suggestion and so he had been able to use the Force to
subtly probe their minds. There was genuine confusion at his
inquiries, but it was of an odd nature...
Yes, that was it! Someone had used the Force to muddle their
minds. He cursed himself for not realizing it sooner and had
been about to contact the Council again when his instincts
screamed at him that he was in danger.
Before he could react, he felt a needle sinking into the tender
flesh of his neck. And then his world grew blurry and tilted.
He was aware on some level that the first thing his abductors
did was snatch his lightsaber from him, even as he was being
dragged into a nearby alley. He was then dumped into a land
speeder, and they zipped off through the city streets.
He called upon the Force to try to expel the drugs from his
system, or at least to neutralize them, but whatever they had
used was potent. He was barely aware when they dragged him from
the speeder into a small dirty room; he knew it was not an area
of town he'd visited and was not the safest of neighborhoods.
He'd receive little sympathy and probably no help if he managed
to get away.
But he had to try. He fought feebly before exhaustion blanketed
him and he slumped against a filthy wall. He could barely turn
his head, but he could see just a little bit around the corner
into another room where more of his abductors were gathered. It
was hard to focus.
But for a split second, before another needle was jabbed into
him, he saw a face. A familiar face.
Obi-Wan gasped and came out of his meditation with a pounding
heart.
"It was someone I know! Qui-Gon, someone did set me up," he
insisted with a raw, throaty voice.
"Who?" Qui-Gon asked with deadly intensity.
"I. can't exactly recall the face. Damn it all," he groaned and
began to pace.
"Stay calm, Obi-Wan. Think. Try to remember."
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "I just. I remember
seeing him when they first took me. I was drugged. Heavily. I
tried to fight it, but it was powerful, whatever they gave me.
There was a moment when it was about to wear off. I could hear
voices in the next room. I blinked and tried to see. There was
a man there. Dark hair. His face was fuzzy, but my vision was
beginning to clear. I. saw his face! I knew him! Damn it. I
knew him, but I can't remember now. I can't make myself see the
face again."
He turned and looked at his mate with frustration in his moist,
green eyes.
"It's okay, Obi-Wan. You've remembered a great deal the last
few days. Just breathe, and then try again," Qui-Gon told him
in a steady, soothing voice, stopping just short of using the
Force for a suggestion of calm.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes again and concentrated, so hard. "The
face itself isn't coming to me, Qui-Gon. But I remember that I
was shocked that he would be involved. He's somehow attached to
this temple, I know that. I can feel that. That's why I was
reluctant to let go of my. primal self. The threat is literally
at this Temple," Obi-Wan explained, his eyes growing wild and
his voice getting rougher as he grew more agitated.
"I'll contact Yoda. If this person is associated in some way
with the Jedi, then the teams, and Errin Coli, are in even more
danger than we first believed," Qui-Gon replied, hating it but
knowing that Obi-Wan's growing fear had to await his attention
a few moments more.
Qui-Gon spoke with Yoda briefly, filling him in quickly, then
was relieved to be able to focus on Obi-Wan.
Finally, he didn't feel helpless. There was something he could
do for his lifemate. "It's been difficult for you, love. Why
don't you lie down and rest. I can stay with you."
"I don't want to lie down, Qui-Gon. I want to do something, I
want to find this abomination and stop him!" Obi-Wan grated
out.
Qui-Gon could practically sense the small hairs raising on
Obi-Wan's neck and he could definitely hear the predatory
rumble in his voice. He would have to take stronger measures
after all. His mate needed to calm down, he needed rest. He
needed to let Qui-Gon take care of him.
"Obi-Wan," he began, an authoritative timbre as he spoke. "If
you center yourself, you will be able to control yourself."
Obi-Wan gaped at him with growing irritation. "I am in perfect
control. I am frustrated, yes. I am letting it show, yes. But I
am in control."
Qui-Gon shook his head sadly. "Please lie down, Obi-Wan. You
are tired." The touch of Force in his words met with rock hard
shields. Obi-Wan's skills in shielding had returned rapidly,
along with many of his memories.
Obi-Wan glared at him with a coldness that made Qui-Gon shiver.
"Did you just do what I think you did?"
"Yes, I did. And if it served your well-being I would do it
again," he replied with conviction.
"And what gives you the right to make decisions such as that on
my behalf?" Obi-Wan asked with such quiet acid that Qui-Gon
stiffened in surprise.
"Because I am your Master and it is my duty--"
"I am not your Padawan! I am your Bondmate. And if you
cannot tell the difference, then we are in trouble, Qui-Gon."
Obi-Wan began to back away from him, obviously needing physical
distance as well as an emotional one.
Qui-Gon lifted his chin defiantly, but that only made it more
obvious when he swallowed thickly.
"You are right, I am not officially your Master anymore." The
constriction around his throat made his voice rasp, and his
words sounded raw. "But do you think that after years of
putting your welfare first that I can just turn that off? Do
you have any idea what it was like to be without you? Knowing
that you were hurt. suffering? And that I couldn't do a
damn thing to help you? Well, I have you back now. And
if there is something you need to make you whole and healthy
again, then by all the gods, I will get it, do it, or arrange
it. With or without your consent if it means doing what is best
for you. And Obi-Wan, if you cannot understand that, then yes,
love, we are in trouble."
Obi-Wan looked at him with a mixture of disgust and pity.
"Oh.no. I. I was afraid, when we bonded, that you would have a
hard time letting go of the child who had been your apprentice.
It wasn't a great fear, because I admit that part of me was
flattered that you would still want to look after me in that
way. It made me feel safe. But now? This isn't you forgetting
that I am a man. It's you forgetting that I am a free
man."
Obi-Wan turned to the door and added softly, "I need some air."
Qui-Gon's protest was on his lips as he darted for the younger
man. Obi-Wan turned, pinned him with a glare and a not
insignificant Force shove. Qui-Gon was stunned.
"It is barely sunset, Qui-Gon. I shall return in time for our
evening meal. And we will discuss this. At length. Right now, I
need to think and I cannot do that here."
He turned and was gone. Qui-Gon sank into his chair, numb,
confused and exhausted.
His meandering took him to the temple gardens. They were always
beautiful at sunset. That memory was one of the first that
Obi-Wan regained. They had always been a good place for him to
gather his thoughts.
Meditation didn't always soothe Obi-Wan's soul the way that
gazing at the pastel sky during the Coruscant sunset did.
And at the moment, he needed soothing. He was torn between
anger and pity when he thought about Qui-Gon. He hadn't been
freed long, and he knew he'd have some adjustments to make. But
it appeared that his bondmate had adjustments to make as well,
and it would be tough to convince him of that.
Obi-Wan realized that given time, he would have asserted his
independence with Qui-Gon, and the two of them would have made
that transition together. But having been wrenched apart, and
with all that had happened, they had had a significant part of
the growing process of their relationship stolen from them. It
was something that they could never get back. They would never
have the chance for Obi-Wan to naturally come into his own
through the course of their relationship.
This new person that he'd been forced to become would have to
forge his own way with Qui-Gon. One of the problems, though,
was that Obi-Wan himself wasn't sure who this new person was.
He remembered who he had been, but it was like the memories
were implanted, or he had watched them on a holo-vid. He
couldn't live that person's life; he wasn't him anymore. He
could feel that his love for Qui-Gon was still so much a part
of him, as was being Jedi. But apart from that, he often felt
like he was a stranger in his own skin. Parts of himself were
still in hiding, waiting out the terrible storm. And he
couldn't even guarantee that having himself whole again would
make him the same person. He wasn't sure if he wanted to be
that same person. He still loved Qui-Gon, no doubt, but would
Qui-Gon truly love who he'd become?
At times Obi-Wan felt that it was all just too much. How much
could someone go through, how badly ripped apart could a
relationship be, and still be healed? Too much somtimes,
indeed. But then he would remember the smug expressions on the
Hunari guards' faces as they were hosing his bare ass or
shoving a meager tray of food into his cage.
And he would remember that he could not, would not let them
win. He would not let them keep what they took away. But he
would also not relive any of the treatment they subjected to.
He would not let his own Lifebonded treat him like a
possession. Whomever he was becoming, Obi-Wan would not relent
on that fact. Oh, he and Qui-Gon had some serious talking to
do.
Obi-Wan strolled the garden, breathing deeply of the cool early
evening air, letting the serenity of this place wash over him.
The trickling of the fountain caught his attention and drew him
closer. As he neared, he heard soft voices. Aahh, that brought
back memories. The sweet whispers of lovers-- or those who
would be lovers when the time was right.
He was about to creep off from the other side of the fountain,
unseen, to give the couple some privacy. But the soft lilt of
one of the voices made him stop cold. He'd heard that voice
before.
"Trust me, little one. I'll guide you," the voice said to the
smaller person he was seated on the ledge of the fountain with.
Little one. The words made Obi-Wan's stomach turn over.
"Galen, I don't know. If Master Turee finds out I left
Coruscant while she was on a mission."
"Oh, I know. She will be disappointed in you at first. But when
she discovers that her padawan took initiative and helped a
mission of her own to succeed, she will be most pleased," the
gentle words persuaded while Obi-Wan's mind ran through image
after image of his captivity, knowing there was something there
he needed to recall.
"Why me, Galen?"
"Because, little one, I would very much like to be paired with
you when you are Knighted. Working together, we can make that
happen sooner. Won't it be wonderful?" he whispered the last.
It was him. Obi-Wan remembered. The bastard had bid on him and
won. He'd caressed and soothed Obi-Wan's bruises, had kissed
his neck and made him believe he would rescue him. That another
Jedi had found him and was going to take him home, to
Coruscant, to the temple, to Qui-Gon.
Wouldn't it be wonderful, little one? To be back in his
arms? Back at the temple, safe from harm? I could take you
there...
But he hadn't done that. Instead, he stripped him of his loin
cloth and raped him just as the others had done. He was not
there to take him home; he was the one who had set him up to be
abducted. It was his face, Knight Galen Gorati, that he had
seen the day he was taken.
Obi-Wan felt the primal rage build within him. This inhuman
mockery of a Jedi would not hurt another soul again.
"Galen, Padawan. Dessi, is it?" Obi-Wan stepped around the
fountain and smiled amicably.
Both were surprised by Obi-Wan's intrusion, but the padawan
allowed hers to show more.
"Kenobi. Good to see you," the Knight replied smoothly.
"I hate to break up this lovely scene," Obi-Wan volleyed with
an even tone, "but I would have a word with you, Galen."
Dessi looked from one to the other, her fear that they had been
discovered singing in the Force.
"It's alright, Dessi. Go on to your quarters. I'll come for you
soon," Galen told her non-chalantly, though his eyes were
locked with Obi-Wan's.
"Do not be too long," she asked as she scurried off.
Once she was out of sight, Obi-Wan let himself be filled with
his ire, his full intent to stop this waste of Jedi training.
"Did you expect not to be caught?" Obi-Wan asked as his
lightsaber flared to life.
"I haven't been caught at anything," his opponent said with a
note of contrived surprise as he powered his own saber.
The clashes began quickly and Obi-Wan's determination served
him well.
But not well enough. While he was certainly still the scrappy,
ferocious fighter who'd survived The Pit, he was out of
practice with his weapon and he was suffused with shame rather
than the Force. This man had shushed him, caressed him, lulled
him into a false sense of peace, and then he had mounted him
and ridden him as Obi-Wan screamed in shock and pain. This man
who wore Jedi robes had taken something from him so personal,
so intimate... He wasn't a faceless stranger, one of dozens
Obi-Wan would never see again... He was supposed to be one of
his own, but Gorati had taken his faith and twisted it into a
sweaty, semen drenched joke.
Obi-Wan was nearly disarmed as the memories crashed on him in a
dizzying rush, and his instincts to fight savagely were gnawing
at his insides.
Finally he came to the conclusion that this beast, while
heinous to his core, was no more deadly than those he'd faced
at the compound, and so he'd fight him as he'd fought those.
He threw down his lightsaber and took an offensive crouch in
front of the disbelieving Gorati. "Fighting like the animal you
are, Kenobi?"
Galen mocked him and moved in, slicing and aiming for the
dodging and rolling smaller man. Obi-Wan rolled and managed to
swiped the man's ankle just as he would have leapt to avoid
him. He was off balance, but Galen recovered and came at him
again with a flurry of strikes that missed only by a hair.
"You're supposed to be a Jedi," Obi-Wan spat as he circled his
opponent. "You deal with selling flesh. I'll take you down any
way I have to. You will not hurt another soul, let alone
another Jedi, ever again!"
"I didn't hurt you, Kenobi. I fucked you. And what a
sweet little fuck you were," he replied, his voice dripping
with honeyed sarcasm. Obi-Wan quietly seethed and stood ready
for Galen's next attack.
Galen then sent a straight, two armed thrust toward Obi-Wan's
body. Obi-Wan leapt over Galen's head and jarred his shoulder
as he used it for a spring-board. Galen's lightsaber was flung
away, and Obi-Wan used the Force to send it hurdling into the
fountain.
Squared off again, Obi-Wan was confused by Galen's suddenly
wide eyes and cry of "Help me!"
Seconds later, they were both in the grasp of several temple
guards. "I need to speak to Master Yoda, right away!" Obi-Wan
grated.
"You can't let him near Master Yoda! Look at him! That's
Kenobi, the one who came back from enslavement wild and out of
his mind!" Galen let himself be willingly held back by the
guards, lending credibility to his accusations.
"Both of you just stay calm, we'll get to the bottom of this!"
The captain of the guards remained between the two restrained
combatants and surveyed them both.
Obi-Wan couldn't help himself. The growl of fear and
frustration gurgled low in his throat. The guards holding him
tightened automatically. It also gave Galen what he needed.
"Did you hear that? You need to get him locked up before he
really hurts someone," he told them calmly, but made sure to
back away just a little to reinforce his own passivity.
"I'm not the threat here!" Obi-Wan, insisted, wild eyed and
flustered as the guards muttered "uh-huh," and swiftly clamped
the cuffs on his wrists that rendered his physical use of the
Force helpless And they began to quickly drag him away.
"Don't let him get away," Obi-Wan begged as he watched Galen
get smaller and smaller as he was taken away. He could see that
Galen's guards had loosened their grip and he appeared to
merely be giving a statement.
"At least call Yoda, let him know what happened! Tell him what
you want, but tell him something! QUI-GON!"
His shouting had no effect and the cuffs made it impossible to
fight them. The only use of the Force that he had at his
disposal was mental. He was so out of practice, though! And
he'd never mastered telepathy with Qui-Gon. Thus far, in order
to the use the power of his mind to communicate, he had to be
in a meditative state, with Yoda to bridge the communication
gap between himself and Qui-Gon.
He had to try, though. Padawan Dessi, Errin Coli and other
teams of Jedi depended on him. He calmed his mind as the guards
led him to a holding cell. He had to work quickly or someone
else would be in serious peril. He couldn't let that happen. He
would not let Galen Gorati hurt any one else.
Qui-Gon paced in the common room of his and Obi-Wan's shared
quarters. His attempts at calm were met with uncharacteristic
failure. He'd never seen his Padawan so angry with him. That
thought made him stop short. Obi-Wan was right, he wasn't his
Padawan anymore. But the young man was infinitely precious to
him, and he'd do what he needed to do to see him whole and hale
again. Why couldn't Obi-Wan understand that it was for his own
good that Qui-Gon tried what he did?
Of course, Obi-Wan hadn't been home long. He wasn't used to
others actually having his well being as a primary interest. It
would take the young man time to remember what it meant to have
someone care for him.
"Head of granite, you have," the exasperated voice startled
him.
"Master?" Qui-Gon asked quizzically.
"Read you, I still can, Padawan mine. Hoping, I was, that you
would come to certain realizations on your own. Perhaps your
own need for healing prevents that," Yoda mused as he made his
way further into the room and settled in Qui-Gon's chair.
"I don't understand," Qui-Gon admitted and knelt in front of
his Master as he'd done for decades when the old one was about
to dispense with a bit of wisdom or advice.
"Treat him like a Padawan, you have not. Treat him like a
slave, you have," Yoda stated simply.
Qui-Gon's mouth fell open and a litany of protests were on the
tip of his tongue. Yoda silenced him with a raised hand.
"Take away his choices, you tried, hmm? An owner's behavior,
that is. So long in captivity, the boy was. Only to return home
and have the one he trusted most treat him as a possession.
Learn independence again, Obi-Wan must," Yoda explained without
recrimination.
"But he is not in a condition to make certain decisions yet.
Isn't it then my responsibility to do that for him when he
cannot? Even if he doesn't like it? I can't let him be hurt any
more," Qui-Gon rasped, emotion clutching his throat.
"Very capable, he is, of making most decisions. Been without
him for so long, you have. Hurts, it does. Regression of your
own, you have made, Qui-Gon."
Qui-Gon's eyes grew wide at Yoda's words. "You're saying I have
it within me to want to own my Bondmate?"
"Listening, you were not when we discussed Obi-Wan's condition.
Have it inside of us, we all do. Just as we all have darkness
to beware of, we all have base selves."
Qui-Gon lowered his gaze. "After all he's been through. How
could I want to treat him as the Hunarian's did?"
A thump on his shoulder from Yoda's walking stick brought
Qui-Gon's eyes up again. "Not as the Hunarian's. Not the same
at all. The males of your species must beware of
possessiveness. Your base selves seek ownership of your loved
ones. Because you are the protectors, by nature. You seek to
protect by subverting the will of those you love. It is not the
same as the Hunari treatment of slaves, but one result is
identical-- Obi-Wan's choices were taken from him."
Qui-Gon let Yoda's words penetrate his mind. He turned them
over and looked within himself. Yoda was right, of course. It
was his most basic instinct to do whatever he could to protect
the one he loved most in the universe. But allowing that
instinct to guide him so completely had led to him treating
Obi-Wan as if he were a valued possession rather than his
valued Lifebonded. Qui-Gon felt like his soul was being ripped
apart. How could he step back and allow Obi-Wan to make
decisions that would be harmful to himself? But how could he
not grant him such basic freedom of choice, especially after
Obi-Wan had spent so many months with all of his choices taken
away from him? Would Obi-Wan see him as no better than the
Hunari?
"I did not choose the best time to revert to this base self,"
he finally murmured.
"Choose it, you did not. Nor did Obi-Wan choose to revert. Pain
brought forth these primal selves, and their instinct to
protect all costs. Healing will send them back into your minds
where they belong, to re-integrate with the other sides of
yourselves. Whole, you and Obi-Wan will be, when all the inner
selves that are part of you, are again merged into who you
are," Yoda explained and rose to leave. "Allow your Bondmate
his freedom, you must. Strong, he is, Qui-Gon. Allow him to use
his strength, you must," the diminutive master added gravely.
"That is the only way to heal. For you both."
"Yes, Master," Qui-Gon replied thoughtfully then froze in his
place.
"Qui-Gon?"
"It's Obi-Wan. Something's wrong."
Waves of emotion flooded their bond; shock and realization came
first, then steely determination that finally leveled out with
little emotion at all. "He seems calm now, emotionally..."
Qui-Gon felt immobile for long minutes as he tried to gauge
what he was feeling from his Bondmate. Yoda had just lectured
him about letting Obi-Wan have his independence. His instinct
was to rush in, but his head kept him in place, echoes of
Yoda's revelations solidifying his stillness.
Suddenly, Qui-Gon was slapped with wave of frustration and
anger from Obi-Wan, followed a moment later by his bondmate
screaming his name across their bond.
"He's in trouble," Qui-Gon told Yoda.
Yoda reached for the communication console by the entryway to
the quarters and commed temple security. "Master Yoda?" the
chief on duty was surprised to see the old Master's face.
Qui-Gon grabbed his temples; Obi-Wan was trying to reach him,
and was literally screaming into head, though it was hard to
translate the noise into words. He staggered to Yoda as he
grasped what Obi-Wan was trying to say. "Master, he's
discovered the identity of someone at the temple who is
involved with the Hunarians... It's difficult to understand
him, though."
"Find Obi-Wan Kenobi, you must," Yoda instructed the security
chief, urgency in his voice.
"A Knight, Master, Galen Gorati. He's been working with the
Hunarians to help them obtain Force sensitive slaves," Qui-Gon
added with a hiss. The pain of Obi-Wan's shouts were about to
drive him to his knees.
"We already have Kenobi, Master Yoda, you needn't worry. He's
on his way to a holding cell now. He won't hurt anyone," the
chief assured with a smile.
"Release him you must! Do not allow Galen Gorati to leave the
temple. Stop him now, you will," Yoda told the confused man.
"But..." the man faltered.
"Master Yoda, Gorati may try to take Padawan Dessi with him,"
Qui-Gon added, needing to physically hold his head against the
pain of Obi-Wan's turbulent effort to communicate.
"Heard Master Qui-Gon, you did. Help Knight Kenobi stop Knight
Gorati and Padawan Dessi, you will," Yoda commanded. "To the
temple hangar they will likely go."
"Right away, Master," the security chief agreed and nodded.
Qui-Gon concentrated and sent all the reassurance and trust he
could to his frazzled Bondmate. He felt Obi-Wan's tentative
relief, and then he felt Obi-Wan's own concentration and
determination once he was released from the guards.
"Obi-Wan will be going to the hangar as well," Qui-Gon mused as
he clipped his lightsaber to his belt. Obi-Wan had a new focus,
and had ceased the frantic, clanging assault on Qui-Gon's mind.
Yoda nodded to his former padawan in acknowledgement, freeing
him to join the battle that would take place in mere moments.
"Galen, this doesn't seem right... I can feel it. I don't think
I'll be going," the fair-haired padawan told him and stopped a
few feet from the ship's gangway. The hand around her thin arm
tightened, though.
"Oh, yes, you are most assuredly going," he gritted his teeth
and tugged at the young woman.
"Oh, no, I am NOT!" she grated, jerked her arm free and stepped
back several feet. Her saber was drawn, but she didn't power it
up yet. "I'm not a Knight yet, but neither am I a complete
fool. Your mind suggestions apparently don't work as well on me
when you're agitated, Galen. Whatever is going on, my
Knighthood and our future are not your goals."
"You're right, Padawan," Obi-Wan declared with a steady voice
as he stepped into view from the side of the ship. His saber
hummed with life as he stepped in front of the gangway with
Gorati just at the foot of it. "Well, unless you consider being
sold into slavery a goal for the future. Dessi? Step away,
please. Galen and I need to finish our earlier conversation."
"It's hard to have a conversation with a snarling animal,"
Gorati replied with a raised eyebrow and ignited his own
weapon.
"I'm more human than you'll ever be," Obi-Wan told him with a
growl and moved in.
Qui-Gon rounded the corner to see a crew of ten temple guards
standing by, unseen, while Obi-Wan was engaged with Galen
Gorati. "Kenobi is to try to wear him down before we attempt to
apprehend him," the captain of the crew told him before Qui-Gon
could ask why they were just standing by. "An experienced
Knight who will resist arrest is dangerous."
Qui-Gon nodded absently, eyes rapt on the battle. Rationally,
he knew they were right. The guards were much more for security
from outside threats, not normally to be used on the Jedi
themselves.
But Qui-Gon found that holding back his protective instincts
was torture. He had just gotten his Bondmate back. He couldn't
lose him again. He wanted to rush in, push Obi-Wan to safety
and take care of Gorati himself...
Take care of him? No. He wanted to kill him. He wanted to sink
his saber into Gorati's belly and know that his internal organs
were being fried by the heat of his blade. He wanted to see the
man's face twist in agony and force him to smell his own
entrails as they sizzled, especially as he was blindsided by
the man's mentally broadcasted image of Obi-Wan bound and
naked. And helpless underneath him.
Qui-Gon fought the rage within by watching the steel resolve of
his mate.
Obi-Wan, was the epitome of control. He battered at Gorati with
a purpose that befit the courage his Bondmate had always had.
Some of his finesse had lapsed, but concentration and the Force
were on Obi-Wan's side. After many perilous thrusts and swift
parries, at last Gorati's saber was knocked from his hand.
"So. You want me to fight like you? Like an animal?" Gorati
shouted even as he bent into a crouch.
"No. I want you to let the guards cuff you and take you to a
holding cell," Obi-Wan replied casually.
Gorati turned and saw the crew of guards approaching. Qui-Gon
led the way, saber glowing in front of him. His eyes darted to
the gangway of his ship. Padawan Dessi stood at the foot, her
own weapon drawn and ready. He was surrounded. It was all over.
With a raw scream, he charged the wide-eyed Padawan. She stood
her ground and when Gorati reached her, she spun her body and
sliced. The arc of her saber went through Galen's arm at the
elbow. She jumped back then, to avoid the direct spray of blood
from the wound as Gorati sank to his knees.
She immediately flung off her cloak, though, and put it over
Gorati's flailing stump to stop the bloodflow. Qui-Gon was
there in seconds and used his power of suggestion to put Gorati
to sleep. It would be so tempting to use his strength to snap
his neck, or suffocate him... but the siren song of his Jedi
soul reminded him that his regression to base instincts didn't
include the Dark. He could feel it creep around him, but even
his base self loved the Light.
He used the Force to stop the bloodflow enough that Gorati
would be well enough to take to a cell and not to the
infirmary. The captain of the guards then commed the infirmary
to have them send a healer to the holding cells. The guard crew
lifted the bloody, limp man to take him away.
Trembling all over, Qui-Gon felt dizzy suddenly. It was so
much. Almost too much. Obi-Wan was back, he was home. He'd been
through more agony than he could even imagine, had even lost
his memory of who he was for a time. And yet he was so strong.
He never lost his humanity. He didn't need him. Obi-Wan could
stand on his own after all that had happened and he didn't need
Qui-Gon to step in and make it all better.
As pleased as he was for Obi-Wan's resilient spirit and his
inner resolve, he was disgusted by his own petty selfishness.
But he couldn't deny it anymore; it hurt him deeply that his
Obi-Wan didn't need him. And while he was being thoroughly
truthful, he didn't have any right to refer to Obi-Wan as
his.
"Oh, no you don't!" the harsh command and Obi-Wan's hand on his
forearm pulled Qui-Gon from his self-pitying reverie. "Of
course I need you! I don't want to be coddled, but damn it, I
need you more than ever. And Qui-Gon Jinn, I am yours. As much
as you are mine. Don't ever forget that," Obi-Wan whispered,
and Qui-Gon saw the fatigue in his mate's eyes.
He placed a shaky hand on the back of Obi-Wan's head and drew
him close. Obi-Wan went willingly and the two embraced tightly
as they released the last of the tension that the scene from
moments ago had wrought.
"We have much to talk about, Obi-Wan. I suppose that I spent so
much time, and energy, looking for you that I didn't consider
what it would be like once you were home. I... I can't expect
things to pick up exactly where we left off. But there is so
much that I don't want to change," Qui-Gon whispered.
"I know. I'm still trying to piece together the last fragments
of my lost memories. And it hurts that some things will never
be as they are. Qui-Gon, it scares the hell out of me that I'm
not the same man I was when they took me," Obi-Wan admitted
shakily and leaned his head back to see the reaction of his
confession on Qui-Gon's face. There was only love and
tenderness, so Obi-Wan went on. "Do you know how easy it would
be to collapse in your arms and let you make all the pain go
away for me? A year ago, I might have let you because I would
have known what it would mean to you as well. But I can't do
that now. I have to know that I can be my own man. That I can
survive now that they've made me someone else."
Qui-Gon smiled, softly, genuinely. "Finally, there is something
I can do to make something all better... Obi-Wan, you are
exactly the same man. You're the same man I said my Bond vows
with and you're the man I'll spend eternity with. You have
changed, Beloved, but inside of you beats the heart I have
adored since I met you. And don't you ever forget that! No
matter the changes we both face, Obi-Wan... You... are...
Loved."
Obi-Wan leaned in again and Qui-Gon pulled him tighter. Energy,
light, the Force, a coalescence of love and trust formed a
blanket over the two shaken but healing Bondmates.
**I love you too,** Obi-Wan whispered into his Bondmate's mind.
Those words were the sweetest silence.
Yoda had declared that it was up to the council to discover how
a Knight such as Gorati had fallen, and that it was up to
Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon to put themselves together again.
"We're not jigsaw puzzles inside," Qui-Gon had half joked as
Yoda ambled towards the door after dinner two night's after
Gorati's capture.
Yoda seemed about to argue that point, but huffed instead to
the stifled grins of the youngsters and made his way out the
door.
Dinner clean-up was quiet, but not uncomfortably so. Obi-Wan
made a fresh pot of tea, spiced just the way Qui-Gon liked it,
and was rewarded with a smile that warmed his toes and made his
throat tighten. They settled on the couch together, Qui-Gon's
hand sifting through the growing silk of Obi-Wan's hair.
"I want to ask you something," Obi-Wan whispered, his smile a
little uncertain.
"Anything," Qui-Gon promised immediately.
"How do you know for certain that you will still love me when
I'm all put together again inside?" He didn't doubt anymore
that Qui-Gon would, he just wanted to know how Qui-Gon knew
that he would.
"Obi-Wan, you are still you. I don't just stop loving--" he
stopped, confused.
"But don't you see? Master Yoda is right. We are a jigsaw
inside. When I'm whole again, the pieces will still fit. But
Qui-Gon, they'll form a different picture," explained and
nuzzled into the touch that kept caressing.
"You will form a different picture to me at different times of
your life, beloved, but the goodness of you will always be home
to me. But how do I know that I love you? Hmm. I feel it most
when you probably least expect. It's usually when you're doing
something perfectly everyday and mundane. The day before our
Bonding ceremony, I watched as you mended one of your tunics.
Your brows were knitted together in concentration and you gave
it the same loving care you put into everything you do. I felt
my heart clench as I watched you that day," Qui-Gon smiled.
"Oh," Obi-Wan whispered softly, not having or needing more
words than that.
"And then just a few days ago, you were building yourself a new
lightsaber. You were bent over the table, fingers holding the
pieces like they were the most precious gemstones. You were so
careful; so intent. I felt that same squeeze of my heart that I
felt the day I watched you mend your tunic... How do I know
that I love you? There's not one concrete answer. I just look
upon you and I know. I just hear singing inside that speaks to
me that it's right to love you. And I know that it will be that
way for all time."
Obi-Wan surreptitiously sniffled. "That is so... Poetic?
Sweet?"
Qui-Gon chuckled, "Allow an old man his romantic notions,
please."
"Of course, Qui-Gon. I have those notions of my own, you know,"
he added with a quirk of one eyebrow and leaned a little
closer.
Qui-Gon took his cue and captured smiling lips in a soft kiss.
Obi-Wan knew that with moments and times like these, their
pieces would fall together to a most wonderful picture.
*
The walk to the holding cells was a trial in itself for
Qui-Gon. Gorati had been held for days and only that morning
had broken down and told his ugly tale to Yoda and Mace Windu.
Obi-Wan had been summoned down there an hour before Qui-Gon,
with instructions from Yoda that he was to come without his
Bondmate. Gorati was to repeat his confession to Obi-Wan.
Only afterward, was Qui-Gon called to the cells. He was to bear
witness to the rarest and most solemn of Jedi rituals. There
was still a part of him that wanted to order Obi-Wan not to go
through with it, he had to admit that.
But it was an increasingly smaller part of himself that was
overly protective of his Bondmate. They had made much progress
with easing the primitive aspects of themselves, the closure of
the mission providing the peace of mind necessary to heal and
spend quiet time learning one another again.
Errin Coli had arrived at the temple late the night before, and
the Durhi family of Hunari was in the custody of the Republic
Guard. Forty-three Force sensitive beings of varied species
were in the care of the Jedi Temple, having been liberated in
the raid and brought back with Errin. All but a few minor
details were seen to, and there was an almost tangible sense of
relief that nurtured the healing process.
Obi-Wan had changed, but he was still the same bright soul
Qui-Gon had loved for over a decade. He suspected that he'd
always have the urge to protect his beloved, but he was letting
him grow into his own man and knew he'd love him all the more
for it.
And so Qui-Gon consciously slowed his gait and calmly accepted
Obi-Wan's decision to go through with the ritual to be held
momentarily in the holding cells.
He arrived at the cell and watched through the thick, shielded
glass. Yoda looked up at him and smiled encouragingly when
Qui-Gon released a sigh of tension into the Force.
Obi-Wan didn't take the man's story as an excuse. He didn't
offer sympathy for it. He listened, he bristled, he stifled a
growl in several places of the telling... but in the end he
accepted it. And he accepted Gorati's request that Obi-Wan
stand Ritual Executioner on behalf of the Wronged. Gorati could
have chosen a lifetime of exile on a remote and uninhabited
planet with permanent Force dampeners implanted in his body,
but he had not. He had chosen to have his physical life ended.
And according to ancient Jedi custom, he was permitted to
choose his Executioner. It was meant to imply contrition and
remorse, and was meant as a way of asking for forgiveness from
the Force, before becoming One with the Force.
Obi-Wan had trouble believing that Gorati genuinely felt
remorse; he felt that the former Knight was too far gone for
that. But Obi-Wan had accepted his role in the Ritual, feeling
that it would enable him to finally close the door on this
episode of his life. He had no illusions that things would be
absolutely as they were once Gorati was dead. That he wouldn't
feel the residual pain now and then; the door would always be
there and could always be reopened. But it felt right to take
his part in the final act of this ugly experience.
Obi-Wan could sense Qui-Gon on the other side of the cell, and
Mace Windu nodded in acknowledgement of Obi-Wan's silent
observation of his arrival. Mace was inside the cell as the
Council's Primary Witness. Qui-Gon would remain outside the
cell as the Witness to the Wronged.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes, centering himself for what was to
come. He opened them and locked gazes with Gorati. Brown pools
of numbness stared back at him. So unlike Qui-Gon's penetrating
sea of blue. Gorati had claimed to have loved his bondmate and
Jedi partner. And yet when they were captured by the Durhi
family while on leave, he had sold her out for his own life and
freedom, offering to procure more livestock for them. He hadn't
meant for it to be that way, he swore. He intended to escape
and get help. As he was released, he was warned that if Jedi or
Republic Guards started sniffing around, Elea would be dead in
minutes. He left Hunari and wondered what he'd say in his
report on his way to Coruscant. Halfway through the journey, he
felt Elea die; she'd been forced into some sort of fight and
she had lost.
Obi-Wan's lightsaber flared to life. Tragic, the tale of a
fallen Knight, but Obi-Wan had a duty to perform.
He watched Gorati swallow thickly as the saber hummed before
his eyes. Eyes that had died when his bondmate had. Gorati had
made no mention of his own capture in his report. Only that
Elea been captured on their leave in the outer rim and that he
had felt her die before she could tell him what had happened.
He spent the next year letting the anger of his loss fester
inside him, until the Durhi's contacted him and demanded a
slave from him. Or they would release the holo of a Jedi Knight
offering to procure slaves. Instead of coming forward for help
with purging the guilt and pain, he sent the slavers the
transport information of three thirteen year old initiates
who'd failed to become padawans. The temple records showed they
died in a shuttle accident on the way to their Agri-Corps
assignment, but they were taken by the Durhi's. One of them
lived and was among those returned to Coruscant. Gorati had no
idea what happened to the other two.
Obi-Wan took one more step forward. The Force and the Ritual
demanded Gorati's life be forfeit. Gorati had chosen as the
Force willed.
After having gotten the Durhi's the young Jedi, they became
greedy for a more powerful Force sensitive. Gorati got wind
that the young and so able bodied Obi-Wan Kenobi had been given
a lead that would take him dangerously close to the Durhi's
Hunari operation. He'd already given up children to these
monsters, why not a real, live Jedi who would live longer than
his own apparently weak partner had? It was too easy. He
muddled the minds of Kenobi's leads and gave the Durhi's the
hanger number of Obi-Wan's transport, and they took care of the
rest. The idiots had brought him to their rendezvous spot,
though, and he had worried for a moment that the young Knight
had recognized him from brief acquaintanceship at the Temple.
But he had been dosed again with the sedative and Gorati had
waved off the risk.
Obi-Wan took a side stance and aimed the saber at Gorati's gut,
the man's tunic having been pulled apart.
Gorati's fall didn't feel complete to him yet, though, having
given over the newly Knighted Kenobi. There was still so much
guilt eating at his heart. He had to be heartless and feel
complete darkness, or the pain would never go away. He needed
to test himself. He went to the compound to watch Kenobi fight.
He thought it was stunning. After only a few months, he had
turned into such a beautiful savage, and it made him hard to
think that he could bid on him after the fight. The Durhi were
much amused by that, and accepted his paltry bid as a gift, and
sent him to the little fighter for the night. Gorati had
actually been torn. He could have found a way to get the young
Knight out of there, and he could maybe begin to atone for his
slide into depravity. But Kenobi had so craved a kind touch.
His faith, his innocent trust and his belief that there was
still goodness in the universe had touched an icy reserve
inside Gorati's heart and had begun to warm it. But with that
warmth came such pain; the realization of what he'd become.
That Elea, at one with the Force, would know what he'd become.
He couldn't have that. He snapped. He fucked his frustration
into the stunned and outraged captive until he could feel no
more guilt, no more anger, no more fear. As long as he did the
fucking, no-one would fuck with him. Kenobi had granted him the
gift of complete numbness of his heart.
Obi-Wan felt his own throat constrict. He had hoped to see more
genuine guilt from this abomination. He thought briefly, but
only briefly, that maybe Gorati's slide into a base self was
similar to his own. But no. His own primitive instinct was to
protect, himself and Qui-Gon, not to sublimate his own pain by
creating torment for others.
He thrust the glowing saber into the smooth, bare belly before
him. He watched Gorati's agonized face, hoping to see some sign
of the man who at one time had valued life, had understood the
risk of losing a love, who must have understood that there was
a wealth of support in the walls of the temple; amongst his
former Jedi family. He didn't really think he saw a flicker of
that as such, but as he pulled the hot blade out of the dying
body, he comforted himself that might have. He watched Gorati's
eyes until they were dull and dead.
Obi-Wan felt the door to Hunari slowly close until the polar
guises of his humanity united within him fully; still a little
bruised, but blessedly whole.
He turned to the shielded glass and locked eyes with a tender
gaze of sapphire and softness. **I'm all right, Qui-Gon.**
**I know.**
Obi-Wan opened the door and walked into the waiting, gentle
embrace. **And we'll be all right, as well.**
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