Warning: the following story contains implications of a m/m
relationship. STOP NOW if you are below 18 years of age OR if
you are easily offended.
Disclaimer: all hail almighty Lucasworld and its attendant
minions. And also please note: this story is not for profit,
only written for the satisfaction of my readers.
Archive: MA archive?, personal homepage
Category: violence (lots of it), AU, angst
Pairing: Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan
Rating: NC-17 (for dark imagery)
Warning(s): Speculative fiction. Post-TPM.
Summary: Trials of knighthood and trials of a different kind.
This story takes place after "Negotiations", "Alternate
Perceptions" and "Vision". Obi-Wan faces a trinity of trials.
Brief outline: The series "The Watcher and The Watched" is a
sequel to the "Lycanthrope" series where Qui-Gon becomes
infected with lycanthropy. In this alternate universe, Qui-Gon
doesn't die. Instead, he and Obi-Wan become co-Masters to
Anakin Skywalker. Insofar, Qui-Gon has managed to control his
lycanthropy and has suggested Bonding with Obi-Wan.
Dedicated to Cleo who suggested the trinity of trials.
Trial: Resurrection
He padded stealthily into the sunlit glade, his lightsaber
humming in his hands. For a moment, he paused, wiping his brow
with his free hand.
Obi-Wan Kenobi took in the tranquility of the glade, seeing the
glow of the sunlight on the smooth stones. There was a soft
gentle breeze rustling through the shrubs and the trees; leaves
spoke with their own invisible language, whispering, caressing.
Somewhere, a running stream could be heard. Birds sang.
Everything looked so perfect, so beautiful that he was almost
lulled into complacency. Instead, Obi-wan heaved his
lightsaber, glad for its familiar weight in his palm. He was on
trial and he shouldn't let his guard down.
They watched him in their serious silent ranks. Not a word was
spoken. At the furthest corner stood an exceptionally tall
figure, emanating a sense of majesty, of grandeur.
The figure didn't speak as well. It only watched.
A twig snapped and Obi-Wan looked up, his warrior instincts
flaring into swift alertness. Something someone was
approaching.
It was humanoid. Shrouded in black. Holding
A lightsaber
With two blades of glowing red.
Obi-Wan found himself shuddering automatically. That was
supposed to be dead. Dead. Sliced into halves. Even as he
backed ever so slightly, relaxing his stance into combat mode,
the humanoid unveiled its face, revealing the same
black-and-red demon visage. It was the same face, twisted with
hatred, with the Dark Side.
It wasn't a ghost. It looked pretty much alive. Flesh-and-blood
alive.
The red blades shrieked through the air like cursed undead
souls and Obi-Wan blocked the attack. In the back of his head,
an irrelevant thought nudged him: the birds were still singing
their sweet songs. It was so ludicrous that Obi-Wan fought
against the urge to smile. Then, he focussed on the evil
attacker, concentrating all his energies into his
counter-attacks, strikes and parries.
But this resurrected demon seemed tireless, delighting when his
opponent faltered, crowing his triumph as his lightsaber found
its spot on vulnerable skin. Obi-Wan cried out involuntarily as
his arm made contact with the red blade. There was the smell of
burning flesh and the sharpness of blood.
As Obi-Wan danced away, evading his attacker, he could see the
droplets of coppery blood on the grass. It was his blood. His
own life-force.
Something rose unbidden in his mind. Bits of a half-forgotten
memory. Qui-Gon bandaging his injured arm, his Master's face
drawn in an expression of concern. The salve was cool, stemming
the fire of the lightsaber-inflicted wound. And those blue
eyes, gentle and caring.
He tried to reach out to Qui-Gon ---
The bond was dead.
Obi-Wan felt nothing in his head. Absolutely nothing. Not a
single tinge of the bond.
What in the ---?
The tall figure turned slowly to face the silent watchers.
Tension crackled about the tall figure and one or two watchers
shifted uncomfortably.
The demon face leered unpleasantly, baring rotting teeth.
Obi-Wan held onto his lightsaber. He could feel the blood
welling up from the wound. He shook his head, trying to clear
it.
He was getting exhausted. And his attacker had sensed it like a
Nikoen deep-sea hunter shark homing in on the scent of blood.
This is impossible, Obi-Wan raged inwardly, feeling tendrils of
anger inch their way into his consciousness. I am one of the
best lightsaber duellists the Temple has ever seen and I am
being defeated by a resurrected demon? No, this must be an
illusion!
The anger took root and embedded itself, worming its way into
the core of his being. He became more furious, striking at the
Dark face with a battle cry. He gathered the Force around him
and hurled it at the demonspawn, taking uncommon pleasure when
the creature was flung onto his back with a howl of pain.
Then Obi-Wan leaped into the air and swung his lightsaber down.
This time, the tall figure gave an audible growl and one of the
watchers detached itself from the group. It held out a
placating hand but the tall figure refused to be calmed.
Entrails spilled out, gleaming sickly-red under the light. The
belly was sliced right through. As he stood, chest heaving, he
watched the blood darken the grass in an ever-widening pool.
His boots were covered with a layer of congealing blood; he
edged away from the body, suddenly revolted and shocked.
Obi-Wan shuddered violently, his anger drained away. He had
killed. Again. He had succumbed to his anger. Again.
He stared numbly at his lightsaber. The lightsaber. The weapon
of the Jedi Knights. It was made to protect the innocents,
serve the Galactic community. Instead, he had used it to kill.
Then, Master Kas'ren was right after all. He should be sent to
the Agri-corps where his murderous impulses could be curbed.
Tears of failure brimmed in his eyes, almost blinding him.
Trial: Nightmare
"Obi-Wan?"
It was a deep voice. It was a voice he had grown to love.
"I have failed, Master." Obi-Wan de-activated his lightsaber,
feeling soiled beyond measure. He glanced at the tall man
striding towards with the ease of a confident Jedi Master. The
long greyish hair, the intense blue eyes and the affectionate
smile made Obi-Wan feel even worse. Why must Qui-Gon smile at
him and make him feel smaller than a Tatooine dung-beetle? Why
must Qui-Gon love him?
"Never concede defeat," Qui-Gon's rumbling voice said and a
large hand rested on his shoulder reassuringly. "Come. You need
to clean up for the next trial."
"Next trial?" Annoyance shot through Obi-Wan's weary body. He
hissed when Qui-Gon touched the laceration on his arm gently.
"Yes. Come ." Qui-Gon said quietly and encircled the tired
young man with one arm. "Rest against my shoulder."
Obi-Wan breathed out slowly in relief and leaned back, letting
the strength of the older man comfort him. They walked silently
for a while. Qui-Gon was uncharacteristically reticent but
Obi-Wan shrugged it off, knowing that the older man had his
'brooding' days. He was used to it as a padawan. He wasn't sure
if the Bonding would change this aspect of the man whom he
loved. But the image of the silent but strong Qui-Gon was one
that warmed his heart and lifted his spirits.
"Master?"
Obi-Wan glanced up and stared into feral eyes.
The blue had taken on a predatory cast. Qui-Gon growled at him.
"Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan whispered, putting his hand on the man's
arm. "Control control." The damned 'Alter' was coming back
right in front of him!
The eyes narrowed.
"Qui-Gon, listen to me control it now "
To Obi-Wan's shock, Qui-Gon became the beast. The eyes of this
creature shone with an unholy light. The paws were tipped with
razor-sharp talons. Obi-Wan watched in a moment of fascinated
horror as the jaws parted to reveal fangs dripping saliva.
(Master?) He sent a frantic question but he was greeted by a
yawning silence.
Those wild eyes pinned him down, immobilizing him. He was
paralyzed as if the eyes had cast a spell on him. Somehow, he
could remember a lesson when he was an initiate. "Sometimes
some predators hunt by hypnotizing their victims "
It chilled him.
The beast Qui-Gon launched itself at him.
"What do you think you are doing?" The tall figure snapped,
barely controlling the anger that could be felt by all; it
rolled in great waves, crashing about the figure like jagged
edges.
"Watch," a quiet voice replied unperturbed at the evident
distress.
"Watch?" The figure responded cynically. "How can I watch?"
He ran.
Behind him, the darkness took on a form and gave chase. He
could hear the harsh panting and the snarling.
Suddenly, there was a blur of movement ---
Obi-Wan didn't know what he did next but there was a flash of
bright blue light, followed by a bloodcurdling howl
He was holding his lightsaber and at his feet lay the beautiful
snow wolf with its head neatly severed from its neck. Crimson
blood gushed out, swirling about his boots in a ghastly river.
As he stared, half-relieved and half-scared, the beast's head
changed slowly. It was replaced by a human head framed with
long hair
Tossing away his lightsaber, Obi-Wan sank to his knees and
started to sob.
The tall figure stood frozen at the sight of the young man
kneeling beside his doppelganger. He rested his head on the
glass window, wanting to hold the sobbing youth in his arms.
Instead, he whirled about and let the watchers feel the extent
of his fury.
"Do you think this" --- He snarled softly, his blue eyes
flashing dangerously --- "is going a little too far?"
"We have no choice," a masculine voice said. "He has to face
his fears."
"You have scarred him, you sadistic bastards "
"Cool down, Master Jinn. Padawan Kenobi is two-thirds into his
trials."
"I am not going to let you continue this " Another snarl and
the tall figure left, leaving a wake of coldness behind him.
Awkward silence.
"Master Yoda, do you think this is really necessary?"
An inaudible sigh. "Necessary, it is. Fears he has to face."
Trial: Aftermath
For a long time, Obi-Wan knelt beside the corpse, watching the
blood solidify. He ceased shaking violently and now he felt
only empty. He tried hard not to look at the severed head with
its sightless eyes staring at him.
"Obi-Wan?"
The voice woke him instantly. Deep, rumbling, gentle. Familiar.
He saw Qui-Gon approach him. Qui-Gon who was whole, complete.
Not dead.
Obi-Wan back-peddled out of sheer fear.
"Obi-Wan shhh " Qui-Gon frowned, disturbed at the picture
presented to him. His Padawan, his future Bond-mate reduced to
a fearful shell-shocked child. The blue eyes darted back and
forth nervously. "It is really me "
"You are lying," the voice wavered. Then blessed sanity
returned into Obi-Wan's blue eyes and he gazed back miserably
at Qui-Gon.
"This is only a simulated program," the Jedi Master extended
his hand and Obi-Wan touched his palm tentatively, as if the
young man was still uncertain. "Everything. The trees. The
brook. Even this " He let his voice trail away as he saw the
severed neck of the corpse. It was unnerving.
"This " Obi-Wan attempted to stand up. He crumbled back onto
the ground. The corpse faded away, followed by the trees. In a
few minutes, the two men were alone in a grey-walled chamber.
"I " Words failed him and he found himself falling into
Qui-Gon's arms.
"Come," Qui-Gon said kindly. The anger he had felt towards the
Council members lingered. How could they put Obi-Wan through
this? Trials? His own heart constricted at the memory of
Obi-Wan cutting down the snow wolf. The shock was fresh in him.
Watching Obi-Wan kill his twin. No. He felt as if Obi-Wan had
killed him.
That Obi-Wan would actually kill him.
"Obi-Wan?"
No reply. The youth had fainted in his arms.
He carried Obi-Wan back to their quarters. Anakin was there,
waiting. The lad's eyes widened but he tactfully kept his mouth
shut when Qui-Gon shot him a withering glare. The nerves of the
Jedi Master were already on edge; he had endured the
questioning stares from other Knights and curious Padawans with
a cool exterior. Look, don't ask, his chill eyes warned the
Knights and they quietly backed away from him.
"Hot soup," he instructed Anakin curtly and the lad headed for
the kitchen straight away. He returned with a bowl of steaming
soup and a spoon. Qui-Gon nodded his thanks and took the bowl
from the boy who retreated to a corner of the room.
Qui-Gon placed a spoonful of the soup next to Obi-Wan's lips.
The young man groaned, stirring.
"Obi-Wan, focus. Drink up the soup."
The eyelids flickered once. Twice.
"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon was now slightly worried. Obi-Wan's mental
shields had been literally ripped into shreds; he was weak as a
day-old kitten. The chance of going into a state of shock was
highly probable. (Obi-Wan?) He asked mentally, immensely
relieved at the presence of the bond. During the trials, Yoda
had suggested dampening the bond until it was virtually
non-existent.
The eyelids fluttered open. Obi-Wan blinked, shielding his eyes
from the light. Anakin quickly drew the blinds across the
windows.
(Qui Gon?)
(Obi-Wan) "Drink the soup while it is still hot."
The younger man obeyed and sipped the soup quietly, color
returning to his face. Qui-Gon gestured to Anakin and the boy
left, leaving the room to his co-Masters.
"Sleep," Qui-Gon advised. "Rest. Gain back your strength." He
drew his hand across Obi-Wan's brow gently. "But first, finish
your soup "
When it was done, Qui-Gon cleared away the bowl and dimmed the
lights. He leaned down and kissed Obi-Wan's lips. Sighing, he
stood up and prepared to leave when Obi-Wan stopped him by
pulling at his robe.
"You watched the whole thing, Qui-Gon." Matter-of-fact. The
Jedi Master sensed that there were changes in Obi-Wan.
Maturity. Understanding. Knowledge of the inevitable. The inner
calm of a survivor who had been through hell and lived.
"Yes, I did."
The blue eyes gazed back at him, unsettling Qui-Gon.
Silently, Obi-Wan closed his eyes and went to sleep. He had to
regain lost energy, rebuild his shields. As he sank back into
the comforting darkness, he could feel the tears seeping past
his shut eyelids.
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