Master Apprentice Archive The Trade Quick search:

Archive: Yes please. Master_Apprentice, OKEB, Jedi Hurtaholics and The Nesting Place. If any one else would like it, just ask :o)

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Angst (no deaths), h/c, m/m sex

Spoilers: Set before TPM....in fact in this universe TPM (or at least certain bits of it) never happens....I am in complete denial !

Summary: During negotiations for a prisoner's release, Obi-Wan makes a decision which has serious repercussions.

Series/Sequels: Not at this time (This is not part of my 'Searching' series.)

Disclaimer: They sadly, still belong to Mr Lucas....but I like playing with them <g>...so I hope he doesn't mind.

Feedback: Yes please, this story was most irksome to write - all comments are welcomed with open arms !

   Key: * indicate emphasis on a word.
        // indicates telepathy.
       { } indicates personal thoughts.

A huge *thank you* to my beta RavenD, who saved you from the 'angst' of my appalling grammar <g>

Chapter I

An increasingly worried Obi-Wan glanced across at his Master. The negotiations were not going well. They had been sent, at the Chancellor's request, to obtain the release of Nepachek D'Cur; a member of the Royal household of Jacaarill. It seemed that the Duke, a headstrong adventure-seeking young man, had landed himself in serious trouble with his latest escapade when he inadvertently gate- crashed a Pagenka wedding. This serious breach of etiquette had led to the Duke's imprisonment, until, in accordance with Pagenka custom, a suitable ransom was offered for his release.

The Jedi had been asked to intercede when the affair threatened to escalate into something beyond bruised feelings. The Jacaarans were now threatening military action unless the young Duke was returned immediately.

Both races inhabited the planet of Ridell. The Jacaar ruled the great open plains, the Pagenka the mountainous regions - living in cities built inside vast caverns.

Upon their arrival, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had spent some time persuading the Crown Prince of Jacaar that things might be resolved peacefully, with the offer of a small 'gift' to soothe the disgruntled Pagenka. Since the Jacaarans, though incensed by the treatment of their countryman, were not eager to enter into what could be a long and costly conflict, they agreed to allow the Jedi to try and settle matters.

So, with a range of what was hoped would be acceptable 'gifts', the two Jedi and a small diplomatic party of Jacaarans had travelled to the Pagenka's homeland. The mountain people, faced with the threat of war, had secured themselves behind an energy shield.

The Jacaaran's ship had been forced to wait, while Qui-Gon petitioned for entry.

The Pagenka were a tribal people, each tribe consisting of several families, ruled over by an elected Chief. The Jedi had sought an audience with the Chief of the Junai tribe, since it was one of his subjects who had suffered the indignity of having their wedding celebrations rudely interrupted.

Eventually the Chief had given his consent. The Jacaaran pilot had steered their craft carefully into the mouth of a huge cave - the entrance to the Junai territory. As soon as they disembarked they had been surrounded by warriors. The pilot and the rest of the crew were forced to remain on board, while the Jacaaran diplomat, Meeka, and the two Jedi had been escorted to the Chief's throne room.

The ruler of the Junai was, like the Jacaar, humanoid in appearance. Olive skinned and dark eyed, he was a handsome man, perhaps a little younger than Qui-Gon Jinn.

"I am Bedela Edjel, Chief of the Junai. State your business."

Qui-Gon had stepped forward to address the Chief, so beginning the negotiations for the Duke's release.

Unfortunately, Bedela seemed unimpressed by their 'gifts', he acted as though the whole bartering process bored him. He seemed completely untroubled by the Jacaaran's threat of war, and was equally disinterested in any concerns the Jedi expressed. His people, unlike the Jacaar, had no dealings with the Republic.

Obi-Wan stood, his tension mounting, as Qui-Gon struggled to try and reach an agreement with the Chief. The young Padawan found himself wishing fervently that Jedi mind control would work against the Pagenka; unfortunately, as with the Jacaar, they were immune to such tactics.

As an uncomfortable silence fell, it seemed that his Master had exhausted all possible avenues and a settlement would not be reached.

The diplomat, Meeka, who had also tried his best, radiated frustrated anger.

In sharp contrast Bedela appeared totally relaxed, motioning a servant to refill his goblet, sipping the contents leisurely, and settling back in his chair. Just as it seemed to Obi-Wan that the tension in the room would cause the Jacaaran to erupt, Bedela spoke.

"Perhaps we can still make a trade."

"We have nothing else to offer." Qui-Gon spoke plainly. The Jedi Master was troubled by the undercurrents he could detect beneath Bedela's calm facade.

"Oh I don't know." Bedela smiled and took another small sip from his goblet. "I might be persuaded to release D' Cur in return for-" he paused dramatically, his smile widening, "-one night with the boy." His eyes fell hungrily on Obi-Wan, who unconsciously took a step backwards.

"No !" Qui-Gon's tone left no room for negotiation.

Bedela gave a small shrug. "As you wish. Then we have nothing further to discuss."

The Jacaaran looked distraught.

Recovering a little from his shock, Obi-Wan stepped forward and attempted to speak to Qui-Gon. "Master I -"

"Be silent Padawan !"

Slightly shaken at the unaccustomed anger in his Master's voice the young man flinched, and drew back.

The older Jedi quickly regained control of his emotions. When he spoke again, his voice was calm, though decidedly cool. "Thank you for listening to our request. I am sorry that we were unable to reach an agreement. I hope we may still persuade you to release Nepachek D'Cur before any....'unpleasantness' occurs." The tall Jedi bowed low and turned to leave, first making certain that Obi-Wan was at his side.

The Jacaaran gave his own abrupt, almost insolent bow - making his feelings very clear - then he stalked off after the departing Jedi.

Bedela just smiled and motioned for more wine.

Chapter II

Not a word was spoken until their escort had marched them back to their ship; where upon Obi-Wan again attempted to speak to Qui-Gon. "Master perhaps-"

Yet again Qui-Gon cut him off before he could finish.

"The matter is settled Obi-Wan."

Qui-Gon looked at Obi-Wan and the youth was startled by the turbulent emotions swirling in his Master's eyes. "But-"

"No !" The older Jedi drew in a deep breath, completely unaware that he was alarming Obi-Wan far more than Bedela's suggestion had. "We will not discuss this any further. Now go to our sleeping quarters and stay there until I send for you."

Angry and embarrassed at being dressed down in front of the Jacaarans, Obi-Wan turned and stalked away without another word.

Qui-Gon sighed and ran a hand over his face. Wearily he turned to the Jacaaran diplomat. "We must send word to Prince Hagell, perhaps he can think of something else we can offer the Junai. If not we will have to return to Jaccartel and contact the Chancellor."

Meeka had managed to calm himself. The Jacaaran's face was lined with concern and no small amount of sympathy for the Jedi's distress. "We may have to leave first, I am not sure our communications array can transmit through the Pagenka's shielding."

Qui-Gon sighed heavily, "I hope you are wrong. If we leave now the Junai may not allow us to return."

Both men made their way to the cockpit to signal the Jacaaran Prince.

Chapter III

Obi-Wan hesitated outside the cabin he shared with Qui-Gon, his hand hovering over the door panel. The young Jedi was under no illusions as to the importance of this mission. Failure to secure the Duke's release would, in all probability, lead to war. The Pagenka seemed certain their shield would protect them, Obi-Wan - who had seen some of the Jacaaran's battle cruisers - was not so sure. He had visited worlds in the aftermath of long and bitter conflicts. He could never forget the sight of beautiful cities reduced to smoking ruins, people starving, weeping, suffering.

Closing his eyes, Obi-Wan curled his fingers into a tight fist. He could prevent this. All he had to do was accept Bedela's offer.

What was the use of his body, when so many innocent lives were at stake ?

Obi-Wan tried very hard not to think about what that 'use' would entail. Bedela's lascivious stare had left him stunned and slightly sickened. Shivering, he recalled how he had felt when that dark gaze slid over his body; it was as though icy fingers had crawled across his skin.

To Obi-Wan it had seemed that the Junai Chief could see past the protective shroud of his robe, probing through the layers of tunic to the naked flesh beneath and he had instinctively stepped closer to his Master. Close enough to feel the tremour that had passed through the taller man's frame.

Obi-Wan struggled to close his mind against thoughts of his Master - lest his hopeless dreams destroy his resolve.

Decided, despite his fears and misgivings, Obi-Wan turned and made his way back through the ship.

With Jedi stealth he easily eluded the Jacaaran crew, slipping swiftly down the disembarkation ramp. He approached the closest Pagenka guard. "I need to get word to Chief Bedela." The warrior looked at him blankly. Obi-Wan gritted his teeth in frustration. Fortunately, his unexpected reappearance had caught the attention of another guard, who came over to investigate. Using gesture and the few words of Pagenka he had picked up, Obi-Wan was finally able to make himself understood. The second warrior took out a communicator, pressed something on it, and then handed it to Obi-Wan.

As Obi-Wan accepted it, a tiny image projector flickered into life, and he was greeted with a small three-dimensional image of Chief Bedela, still reclining on his cushioned throne.

"Ah, the young Jedi Kenobi. How may I assist you ?" Bedela's voice was all silk and honey.

Obi-Wan shuddered, his mouth suddenly dry. "I...I wish to accept your terms."

Bedela arched one elegant eyebrow. "I understood that my offer had been refused."

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, and made every effort to keep the tremor from his voice, "I did not give a reply."

The Junai Chief made a dismissive gesture."Your companion made it quite clear the trade was unacceptable."

Obi-Wan hesitated, this was it, he could still return to the safety of the ship. Unbidden, his mind furnished him with the image of a dying child - limbs torn and mangled, tiny face bloodied.

His jaw set, Obi-Wan fixed the Chief with his coolest stare. "Forgive me, but I understood that you wished to spend a night in my company."

Bedela frowned, and then slowly nodded.

"Then the offer should have been made to me." Obi-Wan's hand was shaking. "I have not given my answer. I give it to you now. I accept." The last part came out in a rush.

There followed an agonising pause, as Bedela seemed to consider his acceptance. However, even on so small an image, there was no mistaking the gleam in the Junai Chief's eyes. "Very well, young Jedi, we trade. I will arrange for D' Cur's release."

"No !" Obi-Wan glanced back at the ship nervously and lowered his voice. "No, please. I give you my word that I will honour this trade, but my Master will not willingingly allow me to do so."

The Chief frowned."Then I will have my guards ensure that he remains on your ship."

Obi-Wan shook his head, frustrated, "That won't work. My...my Master is determined and resourceful. I will not risk his life or those of the Jacaarans." Bedela looked displeased. Obi-Wan wracked his mind for a solution. "If you pretend to agree to one of the other offerings, and return the Duke, I will find away to remain here when our ship leaves."

Bedela didn't look any happier. "Once you have the Jacaaran, what is to prevent you simply leaving with the others ?"

"You have my word as a Jedi."

This seemed to satisfy Bedela. Evidently though his people had no dealings with the Republic, he was aware of the Jedi and their code.

"Very well Jedi Kenobi, I will do as you suggest."

"You must ensure our ship is made to leave immediately and that your shield is raised at once." Obi-Wan knew it would not take his Master long to realise he was not on board. However, their craft did not have the firepower to damage the energy shield. Nor would his Master risk a diplomatic incident by undertaking a rescue attempt.

"That will not be a problem," Bedela replied dryly. "I look forward to our encounter, young Jedi." The Junai Chief laughed, his image flickered and disappeared.

Obi-Wan handed the device back to the guard without a word. His palms were sweating. Wiping them hastily on his robe he slipped back on board and made his way, still unseen, to the sleeping quarters.

Chapter IV

The news that the Junai Chief had decided to accept the Salorian fire gems, was greeted with delight and no little relief by the Jacaarans. Only Qui-Gon was suspicious at Bedela's sudden change of heart. However, he had to concede that nothing appeared to be amiss - as the Duke was brought to the ship and with brief, but solemn ceremony, the exchange was made.

The young man was slightly subdued after his ordeal, but seemed to have been treated well. The Jacaarans wasted no time in spiriting their charge into the relative safety of their craft; anxious to leave before Bedela changed his mind. The Pagenka seemed equally anxious for the Jacaarans to depart.

Qui-Gon had insisted Obi-Wan remain out of sight inside the ship. Now, as he and Meeka boarded the vessel, the young Jedi came forward to greet them.

"Obi-Wan, escort his grace to the sleeping quarters." //And stay with him.// Qui-Gon added mentally.

Obi-Wan nodded obediently and led the young Duke away.

Meeka instructed the crew to make ready for their immediate departure.

Obi-Wan virtually dragged the somewhat bewildered Duke through the ship and when they reached the sleeping quarters he bundled D'Cur unceremoniously inside.

"You will be safe here, your grace." He turned to leave.

"What ?...Where are you going ?"

"I have some...business to attend to." Obi-Wan tried to smile, but was unable to manage more than a faint grimace."Don't worry everything will be fine." He spoke to reassure himself, as much as the young nobleman. The Duke shrugged perplexed, but obviously not overly concerned. Obi-Wan closed the door and drawing his robe around him, he slipped silently down the passageway and off the ship.

Several Junai warriors were waiting for him at the far side of the hanger; they stepped forward and surrounded him as the Jacaaran craft rose up, spun gracefully and flew out of the cavern. Obi-Wan clamped down hard on his mental shields, fighting back the almost instinctive need to call out to his Master.

The Pagenka shield shimmered back into place and Obi-Wan turned, his head bowed, and allowed the Junai to escort him away

Chapter V.

As a light blinked into existence on the control panel the Jacaaran Captain frowned. "Sir, they have raised their shield !"

"A show of force, nothing more." Meeka shrugged dismissively "They are no doubt relieved to see us leave."

The Captain smiled. "No doubt, sir !"

Qui-Gon was not comforted by the explanation. "Something is wrong." It was little more than whisper, but the Captain and Meeka both reacted to the deep concern in the Jedi's tone. The Captain glanced up, his brow creased with worry.

Meeka was more vociferous. "What ? Nonsense ! What could possibly be wrong ?"

Qui-Gon didn't reply. He reached out, letting the Force guide him. With a gasp he suddenly stumbled forward, clutching at the Captain's chair for support. "We must go back," he gasped hoarsely.

"What ? !" Both Jacaarans stared at him.

"Obi-Wan is not on board, we must return at once !"

"Wh..what ? ! How ?-"

Qui-Gon ignored Meeka's stammering questions. He turned to the Captain. "Contact the Junai."

Slightly intimidated by the look in the Jedi's eyes, the Jacaaran Captain hastened to comply."Y-Yes Sir."

//Obi-Wan ? ! Answer me Padawan !// Only a maddening silence met his demand. He could still detect Obi-Wan through their training link, but the boy was shielding himself tightly, giving no indication of either his emotional state, or his current situation. Qui-Gon almost growled with frustration. He was reluctant to simply smash his way through Obi-Wan's shields for fear of causing the boy harm. However, his fears intensified with every passing moment.

The Captain looked up from his console. "I can't raise them, sir. They're ignoring our transmissions."

Qui-Gon closed his eyes, shutting himself off from the Jacaaran's concern. {Obi-Wan. What have you done?}. When he re-opened them, Meeka was shaking his head sadly, an acknowledgement perhaps both of Obi-Wan's folly and his courage.

The Diplomat looked at Qui-Gon. "We will wait."

"Thank you. I-" Qui-Gon cleared his throat. "I will be in my cabin. If..."

"We will notify you the moment we hear anything." Meeka made the offer before Qui-Gon could force the words past the lump in his throat.

The Jedi Master gave a brief nod of gratitude. Then, struggling to maintain his calm facade, he hurried out of the cockpit and back to his cabin. He needed to be alone to deal with this.

In the solitude of his cabin Qui-Gon paced, his hands clenched into bloodless fists. He had never felt such overwhelming helplessness. He was unable to think of anything except what his Padawan might be enduring. His mind tortured him with images....and the sound of Obi-Wan screaming....crying out for him.

Master...help me.....Please...Master !

Qui-Gon let out a dull moan and buried his face in his hands.

Chapter VI

{There is no fear. There is only the Force. There is no fear....} Obi-Wan chanted it over and over, trying to drive away the sense of panic which threatened to paralyse him. He was escorted in silence through what seemed to be endless stretches of stark white corridors. However, his surroundings grew steadily more ornate as they entered what he guessed to be Bedela's personal chambers. Elaborate mosaics covered the walls and ceiling, while the floor was tiled in red and gold.

Obi-Wan's escort stopped outside a doorway. It was richly decorated with what appeared at a glance to be dancing figures. It was only when the Junai stepped aside, that Obi-Wan realised the scene was far more intimate. For a moment he stared stunned, unable to tear his eyes away from the images of entwined men and women, coupling and embracing in every possible position. Then the door slid open and a voice he recognized called for him to enter.

Swallowing hard, Obi-Wan stepped through the doorway. He blinked sharply, as his eyes adjusted to the bright flickering glow of countless candles.

"Come in, come in. Don't stand there. Please enter, be welcome. A drink ?" Bedela strode across the room toward him, holding out a goblet. Numbly Obi-Wan accepted it, automatically taking a mouthful. He coughed as the rich liquid caught in his throat. Bedela chuckled, "Hmm, perhaps you should sip it ?"

Obi-Wan flushed, and took another - more cautious - sip to hide his embarrassment.

Bedela had already moved away, and was lowering himself down onto a pile of silk cushions strewn over the floor.

Unwilling to look at his host, Obi-Wan let his gaze wander around the room. Billowing clouds of silk hung from the ceiling. Some of the candles sat within jewel-coloured caskets, creating a kaleidoscope effect. Between the shimmering, floating silks Obi-Wan could just make out the images adorning the walls and ceiling. They were even more graphic than the one upon the outer door. Obi-Wan flushed even further and buried his nose in his goblet.

Peering over the rim, he reluctantly let his gaze swing back to Bedela. The Junai Chief was sprawled upon the cushions, sipping wine, whilst lazily stroking his bare chest with his free hand. Obi-Wan was grateful that the man had at least covered the lower half of his body, though the thin, gauzy material did little to conceal Bedela's obvious 'interest'.

Obi-Wan shuddered and pulled his gaze away, keeping it strictly above the Chief's waistline. He was trying hard not to compare the Pagenkan with his Master, but his minds-eye tormented him with an image of Qui-Gon's hard lean body.

Bedela's body bore all the signs of a rich, indolent lifestyle - soft muscle, a slightly rounded stomach, and perfectly smooth, pale olive skin, which glistened in the candlelight.

{Oiled} Obi-Wan realised, his mouth dry. He took another gulp of wine.

When he looked back up he discovered Bedela was watching him intently.

The Junai Chief patted the cushions beside him, "Sit. Please."

Obi-Wan's unease made him awkward, and he dropped down onto the cushions with less than his usual grace. He felt dizzy and light-headed, and peered at his wine suspiciously.

"It isn't drugged."

Obi-Wan glanced up unsteadily, his eyes focusing slowly on Bedela's bemused expression.

"However, it is very strong. Perhaps I should have it watered down for you ?" Bedela's tone implied he wouldn't do any such thing.

For some reason, Obi-Wan found he was vaguely insulted by the suggestion that he couldn't hold his liquor. "N-no. I'm...i-it's fine." His tongue felt stiff and clumsy, making forming words a frustrating task.

"As you wish."

Obi-Wan was dimly aware of Bedela moving closer. Then he felt the chief's warm breath graze his cheek. "Perhaps you would be more comfortable without this ?"

"Mmph...?" Obi-Wan mumbled. He felt Bedela's hands tugging at his robe. "Hmm...Oh ? Alright." He wasn't sure what he was agreeing to.

Someone plucked the goblet from his fingers and then expert hands deftly removed his robe and tunic top. The cool air made him shiver. Someone mumbled something he didn't understand. Fingers lightly stroked across his collar bone. He concentrated on the voice.

".....beautiful, so very beautiful. Tell me my lovely one, how many lovers have tasted this ?" The words were accompanied by a soft bite to his shoulder.

It took Obi-Wan a moment to absorb the question. {Lovers ?...What?} "Oh." He gasped as someone - who ? - began to nibble at his neck. Alternately biting and sucking at the sensitive flesh. "I-I....aah." He arched back against the body behind him, feeling smooth hot skin against his own.

"Oh, my pretty yes. Hmm, you like that don't you....."

Someone wrapped an arm around Obi-Wan's waist, drawing him back even tighter. He mumbled his appreciation and felt the man's gentle laughter reverberate through his body. Someone kissed his ear, and then whispered into it. "Tell me then. How many ? How many lovers have held you this way ?" A hot tongue traced the whorls of his ear, making Obi-Wan shiver with pleasure. "How many have made you tremble like this ?"

From what sounded like a long way off, Obi-Wan heard himself answer, "Hmm..n-none."

The arm around him stiffened.

"What ?" The voice sounded shocked.

Obi-Wan was confused, "W-what ?" he repeated stupidly. Someone turned him around suddenly, making his head spin even more.

"Hmpgh.." he protested.

A hand caught his chin and held his head steady. Obi-Wan found himself staring muzzily into dark serious eyes.

"How many women have you lain with Obi-Wan ?" the voice intoned clearly.

Obi-Wan tried to shake his head, but found he couldn't. So he cleared his throat and tried to speak. After a couple of false starts he managed to stammer out, "N-none."

The hand around his jaw tightened a little. "And how many men have you lain with ?"

"M-men ?" Obi-Wan swayed slightly.

"Yes How many men have you lain with ? !"

The voice sounded...upset ?

Obi-Wan struggled to answer. Hampered by the fact that he had already forgotten the question. "Hmm...none ?" he guessed, trying hard to be helpful.

Someone cursed, and Obi-Wan flinched.

"You are untouched ?"

Obi-Wan frowned. {Untouched ?...Was he ?}

Someone sighed heavily. "Obi-Wan Kenobi, listen carefully. Have you ever lain with either a man, or a woman ? Tell me please."

Obi-Wan smiled. "No."

"W-what ?" The dark eyes narrowed. "You must tell me !"

Obi-Wan sighed, his head was beginning to hurt. He wished they could stop with all the questions and get back to the touching. Wrenching his jaw free, he pulled back. "I d-did. I-I haven't lain with...with anyone.." He tried to reach for the man again.

The man easily eluded his clumsy lunge and stood up. To Obi-Wan's dismay the man moved away - refilling a large goblet and taking several deep mouthfuls before turning back to look at him.Obi-Wan tried to stand, struggling to make his limbs obey him. It proved futile, and eventually he settled for crawling. However, his attempt to reach the man ended in frustration as his hands became knotted in the silks and he collapsed forward onto his face with a grunt.

In the next moment, someone - the man - was carefully unwinding the silks and helping him up. Somehow Obi-Wan found himself laying on his back, with his head in the man's lap. He sighed with pleasure as the man stroked his face, wiggling impatiently - wanting the hands to move lower.

"Ah. So beautiful, so sensual. I would have enjoyed you my sweet."

The voice sounded sad, and Obi-Wan reached up for the man - who caught his fingers and kissed them tenderly. "However, I make it a point not to seduce children or innocents." The man sighed heavily, blowing over Obi-Wan's hand.

Obi-Wan snatched it back. "I-I'm not a child !" he retorted.

The man smiled sadly. "No, but you are - unless I am very much mistaken - an innocent." The man stroked the angry furrow between Obi-Wan's eyes. "Amongst my people, the first taking is a very important occasion. It is strictly taboo to take an innocent against his, or her will."

Obi-Wan wasn't sure why he was so angry. He just knew his body felt strange, and he needed something, but in his drunken state he had only a vague idea as to what....and anyway it didn't seem as though he was going to get 'it' - whatever it was. "Not against my will," he mumbled sullenly.

"Hmm. Perhaps as a Jedi you are willing to make such a sacrifice, but I will not offend the gods by committing such a reprehensible act."

Obi-Wan had just enough grasp on his senses to recognize the unshakeable promise behind the man's words. He struggled to sit up. The haze was fading slowly, as his Jedi metabolism burnt the taint of alcohol from his blood, and things were becoming clearer. The man - he now knew to be Bedela - held him until he lay still again. Obi-Wan stared at the Chief. "What ?"

Bedela grinned. "I am still owed something in trade."

Obi-Wan tensed. Would the Junai Chief demand the Duke's return ? The Jacaarans would never agree to it. Would he be held instead ? The Republic would never pay a ransom for a Jedi.

Fingers stroked down his throat and across his chest. Obi-Wan forced himself to meet Bedela's gaze.

The Junai chief's smile widened. "If I cannot have you, I can still enjoy the pleasure of your company. Perhaps you would be more comfortable without those boots and leggings ? Can I interest you in another drink ?"

Stunned, Obi-Wan allowed himself to be stripped. He quickly found himself sat naked upon the cushions a full goblet of wine in his hand.

A half-dressed Bedela explained the rudiments of a popular Pagenka board game. As they played the Chief occasionally reached across to stroke Obi-Wan's bare skin, sighing a little, before turning his attention back to the board and moving another piece.

Chapter VII

Qui-Gon stood, his face impassive - the perfect inscrutable Jedi. However, hidden inside the folds of his robe, his fingers dug into the flesh of his forearms. It seemed an eternity since the Junai had sent a communication asking them to 'collect' Obi-Wan, and all Qui-Gon could do now was wait. He stared hard at the Junai warriors surrounding their ship, and stifled the urge to draw his lightsaber and cut a way through to his Padawan.

Finally, several figures appeared at the far side of the cavern - one of them wearing a Jedi robe.

{Obi-Wan.} Qui-Gon's heart clawed its way up into his throat. His eagerness carried him forwards, only to be stopped short by the immovable barrier of a Junai warrior. Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed dangerously. The warrior looked relieved when one of the approaching Junai called out and evidently gave him permission to step aside.

Qui-Gon stormed past the man without a glance. His attention now focused solely upon the youth making his way, somewhat unsteadily, toward him. Qui-Gon frowned as he realised that the Junai warriors either side of his Padawan were not so much escorting Obi-Wan, as holding him upright. Concerned, Qui-Gon hastily covered the rest of the ground between them.

They came to a stop just as he reached them. His heart pounding, Qui-Gon stretched out his hand, catching hold of Obi-Wan's chin and gently tipping the youth's lolling head back.

Two things struck him instantly. Obi-Wan reeked of alcohol and the familiar grey-green eyes were glazed and unfocused. His Padawan was drunk ?

Still reeling from this discovery, Qui-Gon suddenly noticed something else, and as he slowly turned the youth's head to one side his breath caught.

Defiling Obi-Wan's pale throat was a mottled purplish-pink bruise. Qui-Gon was no stranger to such marks - on the bodies of others - not marring the skin of his Padawan. He was completely unprepared for the sudden sweep of rage which surged through him. He released Obi-Wan as though scalded and stepped back.

Struggling for control, he glanced past his Padawan to the Junai warrior behind the youth. It took him a moment to register that the man was holding Obi-Wan's tunic, underclothes and boots.

Qui-Gon grabbed hold of Obi-Wan, and practically wrenched him out of the warriors' grasp, the young man staggered and almost fell. Qui- Gon steadied him easily, using a tendril of the Force to secure the swaying youth.

Qui-Gon held out his hand for Obi-Wan's belongings.

The Junai warrior hesitated. "My Chief, would have you know that he is well pleased by your trade." The warrior gave a curt bow, and placed the bundle of clothing under Qui-Gon's arm.

A wave of red consumed Qui-Gon. "You tell Bedela, I-" he stopped. Swallowing hard, Qui-Gon paused a moment before continuing. "Tell your Chief, we are grateful for his co-operation." Not trusting himself to say anymore, Qui-Gon turned away, towing an unsteady Obi-Wan back toward their ship.

Qui-Gon set his features into a mask of icy calm as pulled his stumbling Padawan up the boarding ramp. Meeka hovered anxiously in the doorway. The Jacaaran diplomat was clearly relieved that Qui- Gon had recovered Obi-Wan unharmed and immediately gave the order to depart.

"Does...That is do you...er..will you be requiring any..umm..'assistance', Master Jinn ?" Meeka asked hesitantly.

Qui-Gon had already used the Force to determine that his Padawan was physically unhurt. The boy's system was saturated with alcohol, but only time would remedy that. He shook his head. "No, thank you. All that my Padawan and I require is a little privacy."

Meeka gave him an understanding look."Of course. I shall see to it that you are not disturbed."

Qui-Gon thanked the Jacaaran again and turned to turn go. Obi-Wan suddenly groaned and sank to his knees. Caught by surprise Qui-Gon almost lost his grip on the boy. His mouth tightened in displeasure. Lifting the semi-conscious youth into his arms, Qui-Gon carried Obi- Wan back to their cabin. Leaving behind a startled Meeka.

Chapter VIII

The Jedi Master dropped his charge, none-too-gently, onto one of the narrow bunks. Obi-Wan groaned again, his features twisting in obvious distress. Still trying to subdue the rage swirling within him, Qui-Gon stepped into the tiny wash cubicle. Finding a wash cloth he soaked it in a little cool water. He had only just stepped back into the cabin, when Obi-Wan suddenly lurched off the bed and pushed past him. The boy collapsed over the toilet, heaving painfully.

For one brief, agonizing moment, Qui-Gon almost turned and walked away. In the next heartbeat, he was crouched upon the floor beside his Padawan, gently rubbing the boy's back, murmuring words of comfort, using the Force to ease the boy's distress.

When Obi-Wan finally finished, Qui-Gon used the damp cloth to tenderly wipe his clammy hands and face. Then he gently led his Padawan back to the bed. Once Obi-Wan was safely laid down, Qui-Gon brought him some water. Raising his head, Obi-Wan drank greedily from the glass.

"Slowly Obi-Wan, or you will simply make yourself sick again."

Obi-Wan took one more slow, cautious sip and then handed the glass back to Qui-Gon, who took it without a word.

The Jedi Master's gaze was cold and unforgiving as he stared at Obi- Wan; the youth retreated from it, his head dropping back onto the pillow.

Qui-Gon caught a spike of distress from his Padawan as the boy moved, and his expression softened slightly. He took note of Obi- Wan's startling pallor, the stormy green eyes dull with misery, and Qui-Gon felt a pang of sympathy. Then his gaze fell upon the love-bite marring Obi-Wan's throat and the rage returned in full, overwhelming all his other feelings.

"You should sleep," he snapped tersely.

"Master...I...."

He cut in quickly, "Not now Obi-Wan !" His raised voice caused the youth to flinch sharply. Qui-Gon saw it and struggled to bring himself back under control, lowering his voice with effort."We will speak of this matter upon our return home and not before."

Qui-Gon pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to dispel the roaring headache behind his eyes. He felt closer to Yoda's age than his own and wanted nothing more than to find a quiet corner to retreat to. He had no desire to drag all this out with Obi-Wan now, he wasn't ready to hear the details of his Padawan's encounter with Bedela. With a sinking heart Qui-Gon realised he wasn't sure he ever would be.

His mind cruelly supplied him with the image of a naked Obi-Wan entwined around the Junai Chief. His heart twisted and he gasped.

"M-Master ?"

Obi-Wan's bewildered voice brought him back. He opened his eyes to find the youth looking at him anxiously.

"Go to sleep, Obi-Wan." The words came out more harshly than he had intended and a flash of surprised hurt stole across his Padawan's pale face.

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan whispered softly, obediently closing his eyes.

Ruthlessly, Qui-Gon crushed the urge to reach out and lay his hand upon his Padawan's furrowed brow - wanting nothing more than to smooth away the lines of hurt and unhappiness.

He turned abruptly, almost stumbling in his haste to get away.

Standing alone in the corridor, with the door shut behind him, Qui- Gon tried to clear his mind of the images which haunted him. Images of Obi-Wan and Bedela making love.

The pain ripped through him with startling savagery, tearing great holes to be filled by a bitter rage and a seething jealousy.

Alarmed by the overwhelming nature of his emotions, Qui-Gon fled blindly through the ship, finally seeking refuge in the storage bay amongst the rejected gifts. He sank down against a crate and closed his eyes, struggling to mediate, desperate to cleanse himself of the fury polluting his mind.

{Obi-Wan !} He cried out silently, as the tears began to fall.

Chapter IX

Obi-Wan waited until he heard the door slide shut behind his Master's retreating footsteps before opening his eyes. A strangled sob escaped and he thrust his fist into his mouth in an attempt to stifle the next.

His grief choked him, his entire body shaking with the effort of containing it. Scalding tears poured silently down his face. Gasping, he flung his hand away and threw himself face down onto his pillow, trying to muffle the harsh wracking sobs which threatened to tear him apart.

He knew he had done wrong by disobeying his Master, albeit with the best of intentions, but he had never for a moment dreamt that this would be the outcome. {He hates me.} His mind struggled to grasp the enormity of what he was telling it. Obi-Wan had seen his Master look upon others with coldness or disdain, but he had never believed such a look would one day be directed toward him.

What would happen now ? Qui-Gon had made it very clear that the subject of his disobedience was closed until they returned to Coruscant. Did that mean Qui-Gon intended to bring the matter up before the Council ? Obi-Wan's eyes widened in horror at the implication. Was he to be humiliated and vilified before all the other Masters - forced to retell the events surrounding his sordid deal with the Junai Chief ?

That was how the whole sorry situation seemed to him now, sordid. He felt unclean. Not by anything that Bedela had done. Obi-Wan was strangely grateful for the Pagenkan's sense of honour in refusing to taste the forbidden fruit of his innocence. No, his sense of disgust lay with himself. He had gone against his Master's wishes, consumed enough alcohol to act like a Bathruthian whore, and then shamed his Master in front of the Jacaaran crew.

Undoubtedly he would be disciplined, but would he be given to another Master ? The very thought paralysed him. Or would he be cast out of the order altogether ? It was probably no less than he deserved.

Yet part of Obi-Wan rebelled against this self-condemnation. He recognized the wrong nature of his actions, but he couldn't bring himself to regret fully what had ultimately been his sacrifice to make. He had ensured the safe return of the Duke. If only the cost had not been so high.

Too lose Qui-Gon.......How would he survive it ?

The tears had abated at last, shock replacing the noisy grief of before. Obi-Wan stood slowly, waiting until the nausea passed before making his way on shaky legs to the wash cubicle. He splashed cold water onto his face and took a look at his reflection in the mirror. He looked terrible, pale and waxen, his eyes bloodshot and bleary above deep bruised shadows.

Moving like an old man, he made his way back to the bed. There would be no more tears. He had already decided that if these were to be his last days as a Jedi, he would behave as one, accepting whatever punishment was meted out without comment or complaint.

Only one thing threatened to shatter his brittle resolve. His feelings for Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan had known for a long time that his feelings for his Master went beyond friendship. Over the years his respect for Qui-Gon had undergone several changes. First, warm affection, and then, as he entered adolescence, the affection had become tinged with desire. He hadn't been unduly alarmed, there was nothing strange or uncommon in what he felt; many Padawans formed physical attachments to their Masters, particularly if they were of the same species.

However love, when it finally emerged, had taken him completely by surprise.

It hadn't been a particularly remarkable day, he had attended his usual lessons in the morning, followed by lunch, and then a few advanced katas in the exercise room under the watchful eye of his Master. Afterwards, when they had showered and changed, they had dined with Master Windu.

Obi-Wan was still a little in awe of the Council member, but it was slowly being eroded by the stories his Master told during these late suppers; which were becoming part of their routine when they were on Coruscant. Obi-Wan didn't mind, he had learnt a lot about Qui-Gon from the stories Mace Windu told in retaliation. Admittedly Obi-Wan was somewhat curious as to why he had suddenly been included in these casual get-togethers.

Qui-Gon had always shared a close friendship with MaceWindu. Obi- Wan had even theorized that the two men may have been lovers at some point in the past. He was almost one hundred percent certain that was no longer the case.

Qui-Gon was most often to be found in the company of Mace Windu when Obi-Wan was with his own age-mates. Obi-Wan had always believed that his Master enjoyed these respites from his Padawan's company, and he tried hard not to feel any jealousy toward Master Windu for being able to 'have a part' of his Master that was not accessible to him.

The invitation to join them both for supper one evening had come out of the blue as far as Obi-Wan was concerned. He had stammered his acceptance, and then spent the rest of the afternoon wondering what he had been thinking ! Did he really want to be the proverbial third wheel between two senior Masters ?

He he been therefore, pleasantly surprised to discover that he enjoyed the evening, once he had overcome his first few attacks of nerves. His Master was certainly very different in this relaxed setting....Or perhaps he wasn't ? Perhaps it was simply Obi-Wan's perception of Qui-Gon that had changed, enabling him to appreciate the man behind the Master ?

It never once occurred to Obi-Wan that it gave Qui-Gon the same opportunity to observe the man behind the Padawan.

Other invitations followed, and it became a regular event, although the first meeting with Master Windu in the corridors of the Temple had been a slightly awkward affair. Obi-Wan was having difficulty connecting this tall severe Master with the man who had spat tea all over Qui-Gon during the telling of a particularly tall-tale involving a field trip to Vedlus IV. However, he had acted appropriately, greeting the Master with a deferential bow and a quiet - 'Master Windu'. He had seen a glimmer of approval in the Master's dark eyes and the awkwardness had passed.

Obi-Wan's classmates soon found out about these evenings and quizzed him on his time spent with the two Masters. Obi-Wan simply smiled and said he was learning a lot about diplomacy and gaining an appreciation for Telurian tea.

It was after one long evening spent at Master Windu's, as he and Qui- Gon returned to their own quarters, when he had made a discovery.

He had made some rather silly comment which had amused his Master. Qui-Gon had chuckled softly, raising his hand to ruffle the soft hairs at the back of Obi-Wan's neck. Obi-Wan had looked across at his Master and in that moment he knew.

{I love you.}

It wasn't a blinding revelation, more the subtle realisation of something that had existed for a long time. He just hadn't been aware of it before. He had ducked his head to hide the sudden blush which stole across his features and walked the rest of the way in silence.

He had lain awake all that night, trying to come to terms with his self- discovery. He was in love with his Master. He loved Qui-Gon. The physical attraction, which had never overly concerned him before, now took on new and startling dimensions. Obi-Wan had fairly dived into the shower cubicle next morning.

That first week had been a shambles, with his Master growing concerned enough to mention visiting the healers. Obi-Wan was only grateful that his Master seemed to have no clue as to what was causing his Padawan to act like an idiot.

It had taken some time, but gradually he had achieved the necessary control over his feelings, enabling him to look at his Master without blushing scarlet and allowing him to speak without stumbling over every word.

He had accepted the hopelessness of his love, and had learned to savour its bitter-sweet nature.

Now his carefully erected walls were about to come crashing down around him, and he wasn't sure he would be able to maintain his complex facade.

Dry-eyed he turned over onto his back and stared at the featureless ceiling. For the sake of a spoiled aristocrat he had destroyed his life and lost the friendship and respect of the one man who encompassed that life.

What was left for him now ?

Chapter X

Despite their obvious relief at recovering the errant Duke, the Jacaarans were restrained in their gratitude. The young man had clearly caused them a great deal of embarrassment, not to mention a diplomatic incident and a near-brush with war. They thanked the two Jedi quietly and made promises of favours owing to both the Jedi Order and the Republic.

Qui-Gon, for his part, was grateful for the Jacaaran's restraint. He wanted this mission to end as quickly as possible. For the time being he had been successful in silencing his tumultuous emotions, but every moment spent in the company of his Padawan tested this fragile control. He longed for the familiar, soothing quiet of the Temple. He desperately needed the guidance and support of his friend.

Qui-Gon had already sent a communication to Mace, he hadn't given any details, just that a 'situation' had arisen, one which threatened to snap the tight rein he had held over his feelings.

Qui-Gon wasn't sure when he had fallen in love with his Padawan. He only knew the moment when he had first become aware of it.

Obi-Wan was performing a fifth level kata. The youth had leapt high above the exercise floor, stepping easily from platform to platform, never faltering despite the fact that each foothold was no larger than a child's fist.

Qui-Gon watched silently from below, noting with detached approval the fluid grace with which his Padawan moved.

At the end of the exercise Obi-Wan had somersaulted to the ground, flushed from his exertions and radiating delight from the katas successful completion. Qui-Gon had looked into the familiar face, grey-green eyes bright and laughing, and felt stomach clench in fear, as he realised he was in love with his Padawan. Not a safe paternal love, but the full heart-stopping rush of the 'real thing'.

He had dismissed Obi-Wan somewhat curtly, imparting a few words as to how Obi-Wan might improve on his performance, and had fled to find Mace Windu.

His friend had at first been alarmed by his whirlwind arrival and then amused when a white faced and shaky Jedi Master, had finally 'confessed' his terrible secret.

"Really, Qui. Do you think you are the first Master to have fallen in love with his apprentice ?"

Mace Windu had done much to help him in those first few difficult days, reassuring him that there was absolutely no need to find Obi- Wan a new Master, or to confess to the boy how he felt.

"Though it may be something you want to consider in the future." Mace had added somewhat cryptically.

Qui-Gon was pretty damn sure that this was not something he would ever choose to share with his Padawan. He could almost imagine Obi- Wan's look of dismayed horror were he ever to do so.

Eventually things had settled down. He sealed his inappropriate feelings for his apprentice away, marked 'never to be opened'.

Obi-Wan, thankfully, had been blithely unaware of his Master's inner torment during these difficult early days.

Soon, things were back on pretty much an even keel. He was the quiet reserved Jedi Master and Obi-Wan was his obedient Padawan, and that - as far as he was concerned - was the way things should be.

Why Mace should suddenly announce his attention to invite Obi-Wan to join them for supper one evening was beyond his comprehension. He had pleaded with his friend to reconsider, but Mace was quite adamant, saying Qui-Gon needed a real test of this apparently unbreakable control and Obi-Wan needed to get out more.

Personally, Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan got out more than enough, perhaps even, a little voice whispered, more than he liked ?

Ignoring the same voice, one which rejoiced in the idea of having a little more of Obi-Wan's time. Qui-Gon had himself issued the invitation, fully expecting Obi-Wan to try and wriggle out of it. The young man's somewhat stammering acceptance had thrown him totally and the knowing look in Mace's eyes had him equally confused.

Qui-Gon had steeled his nerves for one terrible evening, telling himself he could get through this since it was never likely to happen again.

He was utterly amazed when it was a complete success. Mace was, as always, the genial and entertaining host. Obi-Wan, once he began to relax, was a delightful as only he could be. When Mace suggested they repeat the evening sometime soon, Qui-Gon was surprised to realise it was his voice supplying possible future dates.

Since then, things had only become better. He had never felt so light- hearted, or content. He still marked his feelings for Obi-Wan as inappropriate and out-of-bounds, but he had learned to accept them, absorbing them into his life. Now he was able to simply enjoy the sensation of being in love, with all the pain and pleasure such self awareness brought.

Until this.

Qui-Gon felt destroyed by his Padawan's betrayal. How could Obi- Wan have gone against his wishes so completely and in doing so put himself at such terrible risk ?

Shame compounded his torment. Qui-Gon knew he should be ensuring the well-being of his Padawan, but he could go no further than reassuring himself that Obi-Wan was not physically hurt. His own emotional upheaval made it impossible for him to offer his Padawan counsel, another reason for his urgent desire to return to Coruscant.

Fearful of losing control, and blurting out something which would reveal his feelings, Qui-Gon kept his distance from Obi-Wan. Once their dealings with the Jaacarans were finished, he ushered the young man silently back onto their ship. Taking the place previously occupied by Obi-Wan in the cockpit, Qui-Gon went through the flight check, coolly dismissing Obi-Wan's soft offer of assistance.

Without sparing a glance for the youth, he sent his Padawan back into the belly of the ship; telling him to mediate on his reckless disregard for his Master's authority.

His misery palpable, Obi-Wan had slipped away as silently as a ghost. Certainly there was something wraith-like in the young man's increasing pallor and haunted expression.

Qui-Gon fought hard to maintain his indifferent facade in the face of his Padawan's obvious distress. Closing the cockpit door he turned his gaze out into the coldness of space, feeling the ice settle around the shattered pieces of his heart.

Chapter XI

Obi-Wan stumbled through the ship, clutching his robe tightly in an attempt to stave off the bone-deep chill which pervaded his body. Wandering blindly, he was brought to a halt by the immovable bulk of the ships supplies. He sat automaton-like, stiffly manovering his limbs into a basic meditation pose; one of the first his Master had taught him.

{His Master.}

Biting back a sob, Obi-Wan closed his eyes and concentrated on the task he had been set - to meditate upon his failure.

It took some time. He concentrated on his breathing and carried out all the basic relaxation exercises, before finally he was able to slip into a light trance. It was the best he could hope for under the circumstances, and was just enough to enable him to recall what had occurred. He unfolded the events carefully in his mind, observing them as an outsider, just as his Master had instructed him.

Normally they went through this procedure together after each mission; now his enforced solitude tore at him. Hot tears welled up, clinging to his lashes. He brushed them away angrily and rebuilt his broken trance.

Ready once more, he began to replay the events that had brought him here.

The mission had been fairly routine, albeit not terribly successful, right up until the point when Bedela had made his unexpected offer. Then everything had begun to fall apart.

Obi-Wan frowned as he recalled his Master's inexplicable anger. Granted, Bedela's idea of an acceptable trade was, perhaps, morally questionable, but did it really deserve Qui-Gon's sudden burst of outrage ? Obi-Wan knew the anger his Master had displayed in Bedela's throne room was only the tip of a very large iceberg. He had been reaching out, seeking reassurance and what he'd felt before Qui- Gon's shield slammed down, had left him shaken to his core.

Rage, pure blind rage....and something else....Something Obi-Wan was sure he must have read incorrectly - jealousy.

Why would his Master feel jealous ?

Troubled, Obi-Wan pushed the thought aside and quickly scrolled through what had happened next, pausing when he reached the point where he had been alone in Bedela's quarters.

Cold fear clawed at him. What had he been thinking ? Had he really been prepared to give himself to Bedela ? The very idea left him aching and hollow.

Obi-Wan did not consider himself to be an 'innocent'. He had seen and experienced more in his nineteen years than most people did in a lifetime. Such was the life of a Jedi. However, in - as Bant had once so charmingly put it - 'matters of the flesh', Obi-Wan had very little experience to draw upon. At nineteen years of age, Obi-Wan had yet to experience the complete nature of physical love.

There were very specific reasons for his reticence to engage in such an intimate act, reasons which were only in part to do with his love for Qui-Gon. Reasons which had followed him through almost all his adolescence, and now seemed set upon pursuing him into adulthood.

Maintaining the trance with some difficulty, Obi-Wan let his mind drift further back, to a time before he'd discovered his feelings for Qui-Gon. To a time when the physical desires stirring in his maturing body were still fresh and exciting and a little alarming.

Obi-Wan had escaped relatively unscathed from some of adolescences less kind side-effects. Though his growth spurt wasn't much to speak of ( he sadly accepted that he would never attain his Master's noble height), he had overtaken some of the other human Padawans his age and was by no means the smallest of his classmates.

Besides, there were those who would argue that what Obi-Wan lacked in height, he made up for in other areas. His figure was certainly appealing enough to catch the interest of several Padawans, and more than one or two knights. Strong and slender, Obi-Wan's whipcord muscle gave him the sleek, supple appearance of a feline, with the same fluid grace and elegant gait.

Much to Obi-Wan's mortification, Bant had overheard a Master tell his companion that 'Padawan Kenobi, saunters through the corridors as if he owned them'.

Obi-Wan had kept his head down and walked quickly for some weeks after that disclosure.

And Obi-Wan's appeal wasn't restricted to his figure. He had grown from an attractive child into an equally pleasing youth. His skin honey-gold and flawless. His short, spiky hair seemed to catch the rays of the sun, transforming it from the colour of dark wheat, to a rich auburn-red. 'Flame-kissed' was how one adoring young Padawan described it to her equally smitten friend.

Last, but by no means least, were Obi-Wan's eyes; which even the odd senior knight had been heard to call remarkable. Their colour, quite simply, seemed to defy definition; varying - according to the source quoted - from hazel, to blue, to grey, to green. Storm-coloured was the best most would settle on, as changeable and unpredictable as any tempest.

Obi-Wan wasn't oblivious to the odd admiring glance cast his way. He was a Jedi; he was trained to be observant. However he wasn't exactly inundated with offers of dates.

This was primarily because, unbeknownst to Obi-Wan, most of his admirers preferred to admire him from a safe distance, well away from the watch-dog gaze of Master Jinn. The Jedi Master didn't exactly exude disapproval when anyone approached his Padawan. However, the interested party was left in no doubt as to what his or her 'fate' would be should they hurt the boy in any way.

Besides, Qui-Gon was a much sought after diplomat, and neither he or his Padawan spent a great deal of time on Coruscant.

That situation had changed for a few weeks one summer, when Obi- Wan had just turned fifteen and Qui-Gon had been confined to the infirmary with Jethrusian flu. Not a serious condition for any of the humanoid races, but isolation was necessary as several other species reacted to the virus far less favourably. Obi-Wan was kept in quarantine for a few days, until it became clear that he had escaped infection. Then he was allowed back into the main Temple and told to continue with his lessons while his Master recovered.

A somewhat bereft Obi-Wan had found himself alone. He had never had a large number of friends, Bant and a handful of others formed the close circle he had been part of since early childhood. All of them were currently off-world, either visiting relatives or on missions.

Lost and lonely, Obi-Wan had been grateful for the attention of one of the older Padawans, a boy called Aramon. Two years older than Obi- Wan, Aramon was popular and well-liked. He was quiet with a serious air about him, but he also had a ready wit, and was quick to come to laughter. He was also very good looking, with dark hair and light grey eyes.

He had first approached Obi-Wan in the practice room, asking if the younger boy would mind performing a Se-el-ta kata with him. Since the kata was one of Obi-Wan's personal favourites, he was more than happy to agree. They practiced for some time, performing first the Se-el-ta, and then advancing through the entire range of related katas. Both boys were hot and sweaty when they finished in the late afternoon. They'd had the exercise room to themselves for some time, everyone else having already departed for the dining hall.

Smiling, Aramon had complimented him and Obi-Wan had glowed beneath the older boy's honest praise. Most of the older Padawan's either resented, or were in awe of Obi-Wan's lightsaber skills. Having bested Aramon more than once that afternoon, Obi-Wan had fully expected the older boy to be resentful or sullen - as was usually the case when he duelled with senior Padawans. Aramon was clearly somewhat surprised at having been so easily beaten, but he didn't seem at all troubled by it, merely adding that he would have to practice more and he hoped Obi-Wan would be willing for a re-match.

Obi-Wan had agreed eagerly.

They wandered into the deserted shower room and Obi-Wan was soon enjoying the feel of the hot spray spilling over his sore muscles. He was startled when a soft voice asked if he would mind having his back washed, too surprised to do more than nod.

There was a slight pause, and then strong, soap-slicked hands rubbed the muscles of his back and shoulders, working out the knots and aches. After his initial unease, Obi-Wan began to relax. With unwitting sensuality he arched his back, pushing into the other boy's confident touch like a cat craving attention. He jumped again when Aramon's hands slid around to stroke his chest, lightly brushing over his nipples, which came to hardness instantly. The older boy was breathing raggedly. Obi-Wan felt something brush against his leg, he looked down and swallowed hard when he saw Aramon's erection nudging his thigh.

"Can I touch you ?" Aramon asked quietly, almost shyly.

Again, Obi-Wan just nodded. He heard Aramon gasp softly and watched as the older boy's hand stole around to touch his awakening flesh. Then it was Obi-Wan's turn to gasp, as his legs almost buckled beneath him. He had touched himself there before, many times, but never had he imagined that another's hand could feel so incredible. Aramon's fingers enclosed around him gently, while his other arm wrapped itself firmly around Obi-Wan's waist. Obi-Wan whimpered in mindless pleasure as Aramon began to stroke him. Instinctively his hips began to buck, thrusting into the boy's hand.

Suddenly, Aramon released him, before Obi-Wan could protest he was spun around to face the older boy. Aramon pulled Obi-Wan close, whispering, "Touch me." Hesitantly, Obi-Wan reached out and curled his fingers around the boy's rigid member, feeling blood-warmth and slippery, satin-smooth skin. With wide-eyed curiosity he brushed his finger over the drop of fluid at the tip. Aramon gave a little cry and convulsed against him.

Obi-Wan snatched his hand away. "I-I'm sorry..I-I.," he stammered, aghast.

"Sssh. It's alright," Aramon whispered. "I liked it. It's nice. See." He repeated the gesture on Obi-Wan, who almost came on the spot.

Aramon seemed to sense his nearness and he moved his hand away. "Touch me again."

This time Obi-Wan obeyed less hesitantly, quickly finding a rhythm which seemed to please the older boy. Aramon's fingers reached for him again and Obi-Wan shuddered with pleasure.

"Harder," Aramon gasped.

Distracted by the feel of the other boy's fingers around his own straining flesh, Obi-Wan struggled to comply. Aramon's free hand closed around his, guiding him. At the same time Aramon increased the pressure and speed of his other hand, bringing Obi-Wan to completion.

With a broken cry Obi-Wan came, his seed shooting over Aramon's hand and belly.

The other boy gasped, "Oh, yes."

Obi-Wan was dimly aware of Aramon shuddering and stiffening, before hot sticky fluid gushed over his fingers. Aramon released Obi- Wan's spent member and pulled him close, holding him tight as they both stood trembling, slowly recovering from the rush of release.

Obi-Wan was barely able to stand and he leaned gratefully into the taller youth as the water washed away all traces of their encounter.

When they had finally moved apart however, Obi-Wan felt shy and awkward. He was embarrassed by Aramon's warm gaze and couldn't meet it. Still feeling uncomfortable, he followed the older boy out of the shower and into the changing room, where they dressed in silence.

As Obi-Wan turned to go, unsure what - if anything - to say, Aramon caught his arm and pulled Obi-Wan toward him. He placed a quick, almost chaste kiss on Obi-Wan's surprised mouth.

"Tomorrow," he said, smiling, before releasing the younger boy and leaving the room.

Obi-Wan was left feeling uncertain and confused. He couldn't deny that physically what had occurred had been more than pleasurable. He had never experienced an orgasm like it. However, he was at a loss to explain the strange 'emptiness' he had experienced when it was all over. It was as though there were something missing, but he couldn't work out what. He only knew that he felt...used.

Not that he held any kind of resentment toward Aramon, far from it, he felt in turn as though he had used the other boy.

Sadly, he had wandered back to his quarters, choosing to curl up on his Master's bed, whereupon he had fallen into a troubled sleep.

The next day he had been torn between wanting to avoid the exercise room, and the guilt he felt at having agreed to be there. Finally he had made himself go in, feeling a fresh burst of guilt when Aramon smiled happily as he entered, walking over to greet him.

"I'd almost given up on you," the older boy joked.

Obi-Wan forced a smile onto his face and apologised for his late arrival.

"Oh, don't be silly. It doesn't matter. Besides we get the place to ourselves again this way." Aramon grinned suggestively.

Obi-wan tried to swallow past the lump in his throat.

He managed to forget his concerns as they warmed up and began to practice. Aramon was extremely skilful, and Obi-Wan enjoyed duelling with someone who was, more-or-less, on his level. It certainly made a pleasing change from being repeatedly knocked on his backside by Qui-Gon.

His sense of unease returned when they finished and put away the equipment. Aramon linked arms with him and led them into the changing room. Smiling, the older boy had stripped quickly, darting into the shower, seemingly oblivious to Obi-Wan's rising distress.

Still, Obi-Wan made no objection when Aramon quietly asked if he could touch him, even enjoying the feel of the other boy's hands on his body. They were both young and healthy and their climaxes came quickly. Aramon licked Obi-Wan's essence off his fingers with a contented expression, whilst Obi-Wan awkwardly rubbed the other boy's seed off his hand against his thigh.

Again they dressed in virtual silence, Obi-Wan unwilling to meet Aramon's eyes - uncomfortable with the affection he thought he saw there. This time the older boy claimed a slightly longer kiss, his tongue flickering out briefly to probe Obi-Wan's tightly closed lips.

"See ya tomorrow, Obi."

So it went on. Obi-Wan felt as though he were caught in a cycle with no hope of escape. Briefly he toyed with the idea of approaching Master Kereff, who had been charged with looking out for him while his own Master was recovering. However, he quickly rejected the idea. Obi-Wan wasn't sure this was something he would even wish to discuss with Qui-Gon. Besides, what could he say ? There was nothing 'wrong', exactly, and he had no wish to get Aramon into any trouble. He liked the older boy. He wished his body would refuse to respond to Aramon's caresses, but physically he felt nothing but pleasure when the other boy touched him. Emotionally however, it was a very different matter and the emptiness he felt was eating away at him.

He tried to tell himself that it was alright to enjoy the physical nature of their relationship, and not to worry that he felt nothing for the other boy beyond a light friendship. It didn't do any good. Obi-Wan knew in his heart that it wasn't enough for him, the sense of guilt he felt was compounded by the certain knowledge that Aramon entertained deeper feelings for him.

Matters came to a head one day, when Aramon attempted to insert his finger into Obi-Wan. He mistook the younger boy's squirm of discomfort for desire and whispered that he wanted to be inside Obi- Wan, 'one day soon'.

Obi-Wan was quite sure that was not what he wanted. Just that one slender finger had been enough. It hadn't been painful exactly, just uncomfortable. The whole sensation had been unpleasant and it was enough to wilt his erection.

Unperturbed, Aramon dropped to his knees and took Obi-Wan into his mouth. Distressed, despite the amazing sensations, Obi-Wan tried to pull away, but his orgasm overtook him and he came in the other boy's mouth.

Inexplicably close to tears, Obi-Wan fled into the changing room. He dressed hurriedly as a bewildered Aramon joined him.

Without looking at the older boy, Obi-Wan managed to stammer out that he thought it best if they didn't meet again.

Aramon had protested, quickly voicing that he if it was about anything he had said or done, he would never dream of making Obi-Wan do anything he didn't want to.

Sighing, Obi-Wan had finally turned to face the older boy, not surprised to see tears glistening brightly in Aramon's gentle grey eyes. Feeling like the biggest heel in the galaxy, Obi-Wan said he knew Aramon wouldn't force him into anything, he just didn't feel ready for this. Besides his Master was due out of the infirmary the day after tomorrow and they would undoubtedly be leaving Coruscant soon after.

Aramon had tried to persuade Obi-Wan to spend the remaining time they had together, but Obi-Wan resisted, knowing he had to do this, for his own sake and for Aramon's.

Aramon had finally accepted that Obi-Wan couldn't be shaken from his decision. They had finished dressing in silence and parted company without their accustomary kiss.

They had passed each other in the corridors several times after that. Aramon always smiled sadly before turning away.

If Qui-Gon noticed anything strange about his Padawan's behaviour, he probably put it down to Obi-Wan's resentment at having his weeks of 'Masterless freedom' brought to an end.

Obi-Wan meanwhile, was shamefully relieved when he heard that Aramon and his Master had accepted a posting to Gerussa, a planet which would make their visits to Coruscant an infrequent event.

Almost a year had passed before Obi-Wan again felt the pull to act upon his desires. His encounters with Aramon hadn't put him off exactly, but they had left him wary. He had no wish to find himself trapped in another awkward relationship, and he certainly had no wish to trample on any one else's feelings.

It was during a mission, or rather just after its successful conclusion. He and Qui-Gon had been invited to join in the jubilant celebrations; one of the young noblemen had asked Obi-Wan to dance. Obi-Wan had glanced across at his Master, but Qui-Gon was engaged in a conversation with the first minister. Since Obi-Wan decided it wouldn't hurt to 'let go' a little, he had accepted.

They danced for some time until, tired and breathless, his partner had drawn him away from the noisy crowds and into the gardens. Taking his hand, Obi-Wan's companion led him into a tall-hedged maze. The only light came from the trio of moons high above them in the dark velvet sky. Now and then the silence was broken by a playful squeal or giggle. Once or twice, Obi-Wan caught a glimpse of lovers kissing or talking softly - heads bowed together. His own companion, who had introduced himself as Dionay, found a little wooden bench in a private arbour and gently pulled Obi-Wan down onto it. They exchanged stolen kisses and some fairly innocent touches.

It was only when things began to get a little heated that Obi-Wan began to feel uncomfortable. It just felt 'wrong' somehow, not quite sordid, but something close. Despite the desire burning through his body, Obi-Wan felt empty. This was not what he wanted.

Apologising, he had drawn away. His companion was confused, but Obi-Wan managed to assure Dionay that it was nothing the young man had done wrong, he just didn't think that his Master would approve.

Sadly, Dionay had taken him back to the dance hall. Obi-Wan's discomfort and embarrassment did much to cool his ardour and he re-entered the hall convinced no one knew what he had been doing.

That was not quite the case. Several people had seen the young Jedi leave with Dionay, now they smiled knowingly as the two young men returned, flushed and rumpled. No one minded in the least, with the possible exception of one tall, Jedi Master, who had witnessed his Padawan's departure with an aching heart and was now struggling to quell the mysterious emotion churning inside him. Qui-Gon was still some years away from discovering his feelings for Obi-Wan and he put his current ill-humour down to a headache from the wine and the tedium of the first minister's conversation (which had largely centred around the breeding habits of Belum snails.)

Obi-Wan, of course, was unaware of any of this. He had made his excuses to Dionay and returned to his Master's side, where he remained for the rest of the evening - to the mutual satisfaction of both parties.

After that Obi-Wan came to the conclusion that he didn't want to experiment any more. He had politely refused any offers that came his way over the next two years, admittedly sometimes with a tinge of regret.

Then at eighteen came the discovery that ended any ideas he might have had about rethinking his decision, for that was when he realised that he was in love with Qui-Gon. To engage in another relationship after that seemed like a betrayal of what he felt for the older man, and Obi-Wan had accepted that he was likely to remain untutored in 'the ways of the flesh'.

He had almost convinced himself that it wasn't such a terrible thing. His previous encounters had been disastrous, why should future ones be any different ? Maybe he wasn't missing out on all that much ? When that argument didn't really work, he had told himself that he would be a better Jedi for his abstinence. Some willingly chose to take a vow of celibacy in the belief that it kept the mind and body free to 'fully'embrace the Force'. That helped a little. Besides, what did it really matter ? He had the close companionship of the man he loved. That had to be enough.

Obi-Wan chose to ignore what might happen when he was knighted.

Obi-Wan blinked sharply, breaking his trance, a sharp pain slicing through his head. He raised his hands to cradle his throbbing temples, and was unsurprised to discover his face was wet with tears. Moving slowly, his limbs numbed from the cold metal floor, Obi-Wan staggered to his feet. He made his way back through the ship as far as the sleep cabin. Deciding he had meditated enough on the misery of his situation, Obi-Wan collapsed wearily onto the narrow cot.

Exhaustion over-rode his mental state, shutting down his mind and letting him fall into an uneasy, troubled sleep.

Concluded in Chapters XII to XVIII (91 Kb)