Archive: By Master & Apprentice, my site, WWOMB and
SithChicks
Pairing: O/Other, Q/Other, O/Q
Category: Alternate Universe
Rating: NC-17 for the series; this episode R
Disclaimer: George, you want me, come get me. I'm probably a
better writer than you anyway (not that that's saying much luv,
sorry...).
Warning: Het content.
Summary: Follows canon. Qui is dead, and in building a new
lightsaber Obi accidentally finds a way to move to different
realities, where he discovers many strange and wondrous things
in his quest to be with his beloved Master again.
Notes: I'm paying homage to the great SF author, L. Sprague
DeCamp with this story. Back in the 30's-40's he wrote the
definitive AU novel called "The Wheels of If", which conceit
I'm borrowing here. Thanks (as always) to Beta Readers Par
Excellence Fox, HiperBunny and Emrin Alexander. Thank you,
ladies, my cup runneth over with your support.
The sharp bang of displaced air rang through the dim garden,
scaring some birds into flight, but there was no one and nobody
else around to hear it. After a moment, a Jedi Knight strode
out from a dark corner into the early evening air, pausing by
the chuckling fountain to look around. Above him, the crowded
Coruscant skies gleamed with all manner of air ships, and all
around the lights from the high-rises surrounding the Jedi
Temple drowned out the starlight. He smiled faintly. Though he
looked young, his eyes had a sadness to them that made him
appear older.
Nodding to himself in satisfaction, he walked into the Temple
proper. It was dinner hour or just after, so there weren't a
lot of people about. He moved to one of the public terminals on
the Main Concourse and called up some information, which
evidently pleased him from his reaction. Erasing the
information, he moved to the lift.
As he waited for the lift to arrive, Obi-Wan Kenonbi couldn't
help but remember the last time he was in the Temple - a Temple
that was empty and crumbling and very, very lonely. A Temple
which only housed one Jedi, and which now housed none. A Temple
where he had first made love to Qui-Gon Jinn. This Temple was
completely opposite, alive, vibrant, and filled with people...
with Jedi.
The third level was quiet, but from behind some of the doors he
could hear muted voices or music, and occasionally smell
cooking odors. Nervously, he approached one door, very much
like all the others, and rang the chime.
Shortly the door opened to reveal a tall, dignified Jedi
Master. Qui-Gon Jinn frowned down at the young man in his
doorway and said, "Obi-Wan? What are you doing back? You're
supposed to be on the transport to the seminar at A'Kar'shi."
// Shit, // Obi-Wan thought to himself briefly, // I'm alive
here too. Forgot to check for that. // He opened his mouth to
speak but nearly couldn't. This Qui-Gon had no beard! He looked
so much... younger, Obi-Wan thought. Different. Finally, he
found his voice. "I-Qui-Gon. Master. I'm sorry, I'm not really
Obi-Wan. It's a long story. May I come in?"
Puzzlement and a touch of anger colored Master Jinn's voice as
he answered, "You live here, Obi-Wan. What in the Force
is wrong with you? Where's your braid?"
Unconsciously raising his hand to where his braid had been over
a month before, Obi-Wan quirked a smile. "That's part of it.
I'm not the Obi-Wan who lives with you... I'm from, oh hell,
this is ridiculous. May I come in and explain?"
"I think you'd better." That chilly tone of voice was used only
for extremes of disgust or disappointment, and Obi-Wan gulped
despite himself. Qui-Gon retreated to stand near the sofa, his
arms crossed, his legs planted. "I saw you board that transport
myself, Obi-Wan, four hours ago. Now here you are, no braid...
wait. Your hair is different. You look different." Deep
blue eyes raked him up and down, frowning.
"I AM different, Master," Obi-Wan said ruefully. "I'm from...
well, I'm from a different reality. Different dimension.
Whatever you want to call it; the Temple I grew up in is about
four realities THAT way," he finished, rather ridiculously
pointing with his thumb over his shoulder. "In my reality,
you... you died. On Naboo. I suppose we never went there in
this reality."
"A different reality." Qui-Gon's expression became, if
anything, more thunderous, and Obi-Wan could feel the man's
probe along his shields. Not wanting to hide, he opened himself
enough so that Qui-Gon could at least feel his truth level.
"Y-yes. I've been to what, four - no, five - of them already?
The Sith have taken over in at least two of them, maybe
starting to in a third. Senator Palpatine is..."
Abruptly, Qui-Gon walked directly to him, invading his personal
space, and with one large hand grabbed his genitals and
squeezed, hard. Obi-Wan yelped in shock.
Not releasing his firm hold, Qui-Gon narrowed his eyes as he
looked down on the young Knight. "You must be telling something
of the truth," he growled. "You can't be MY Obi-Wan anyway. You
still have your testicles. Tell me more, whoever you are."
Eyes widening in shock, all Obi-Wan was capable of thinking was
// Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit // as his fried brain tried
to parse the meaning of Qui-Gon's words. Qui-Gon, who was still
standing VERY close to him and who still had a firm grasp
around his penis and balls. A firm, rather possessive, grasp.
"It's true," he managed to squeak out finally. "I'm from an
alternate reality. I'm looking... I'm looking to figure out how
I got here and how I can get home," he lied quickly, easing his
shields up more firmly. He was becoming quite afraid of this
particular reality, not to mention this particular Qui-Gon.
"So you say you are Obi-Wan Kenobi, but from a different... a
different reality?" Qui-Gon finally said, easing off but not
releasing the smaller man's genitals. "From a Temple that does
not emasculate the pleasure boys?"
// Oh shit oh shit oh shit // the litany began again as Obi-Wan
realized just how deep he was getting. "Um, he's one of the
Masters at my Temple. Here, if you would let me go, I have some
things in my pack to convince you," he said with sudden
inspiration.
Reluctantly, the big man let him go and stepped away. Obi-Wan
quickly sidled over to the table, where he made a show of
removing his satchel, while turning himself away from Qui-Gon
and quickly unclipping his 'saber. "I'm sorry, he said, as he
thumbed the power, "this one is too much for me." With a bang,
he disappeared.
The clap of displaced air was still echoing in the apartment
when Obi-Wan appeared, falling to one knee in nausea and
reaction. He managed to turn off his 'saber just in time to
avoid slicing into the carpeting. // Shit! I'm still in the
apartment! // he thought to himself. A crash made him look up,
still swallowing back bile, and his jaw dropped.
"Anakin?" he breathed. The young boy stood at the door of the
kitchenette, the remains of a clean, wet casserole dish at his
feet where he had dropped it in shock.
"Padawan?!" A woman's voice rang out from the other room. As
Obi-Wan struggled to his feet, a tall, attractive, older woman,
with long, graying, light brown hair entered the room from the
bedroom. She was dressed as a Master and had a lightsaber in
her hand. When she saw Obi-Wan she stopped and staggered back
against the door frame. Anakin ran to her and she wrapped one
arm around him, obviously as much for support as to comfort
him. "Obi-Wan?" she breathed.
"He - he just appeared, Master," Anakin babbled, clinging to
her.
Obi-Wan reached to the table for support, still woozy from
shock and the transfer. This woman looked so familiar...
In a deep, mellifluous voice, she said to Anakin, "Run, Anakin.
Get Master Yoda. Hurry." Watching the Knight suspiciously,
Anakin eased his way around the outer wall of the room and
darted out.
"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan said, "I didn't mean to frighten Anakin.
Your Padawan. I don't usually initiate the transfer inside..."
"Who are you?" the woman asked, her voice level, but with an
underlying shakiness.
"I-I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi. I'm a Knight of the Jedi..."
"Obi-Wan Kenobi died over a month ago, on Naboo," she said
harshly. "I was there. He died in my arms. Now why don't you
tell me the truth?"
Closing his eyes, Obi-Wan scrubbed his face with one hand. "I
AM telling the truth. I'm sorry. It's been a long day for me.
Do you mind if I sit? If Master Yoda is coming, he'll be able
to confirm what I'm saying. He did a few realities ago anyway."
Without waiting for her permission, he sank into one of the
chairs at the table. "I'm moving between realities. I've come,
oh, I don't know, unstuck somehow. At least that's how I feel.
Gods. The last one..." He dropped his satchel on the floor at
his feet and leaned back in the chair. "I'm so sorry to have
frightened you."
The woman had not moved and was still staring at him, her gaze
still shocked, and curiously hungry. "You... don't feel
insane. Are you a clone?"
"No!" he said vehemently. "I'm sorry. I ran into a clone of me
a couple of realities back and it shook me up. It was a Sith,
you see" He shook his head ruefully. "Didn't bother me as much
as meeting myself did though. I don't suppose I'm making much
sense. But I'm not insane. Just tell me, is Qui-Gon still alive
here? Or... oh Force, is there even a Qui-Gon here?"
She looked confused. "Who?"
Before he could answer, the door whooshed open to admit Anakin,
carrying Yoda on his back. The wizened Master had the boy
kneel, then came over to Obi-Wan, who fell out of the chair to
his knees to greet him. "Master Yoda," he said, relieved. "I
was beginning to think I'd never see you again."
Yoda seemed just as surprised to see him as the female Master
had. "What have we here then, hmmm?" he asked, as much to
himself as to the others in the room. "Obi-Wan Kenobi it seems
to be, yes."
"I am Obi-Wan, Master Yoda. I was building myself a new
lightsaber. When I tested it, it somehow transferred me to
another reality, another dimension," Obi-Wan said. "I talked to
you.. I mean, one of yous... on the second, no third, reality,
and you said it was a world of 'if', that 'if' ruled all. If a
tree died, the world would be different than if the tree had
lived." Obi-Wan realized he was on the verge of babbling, but
he was so rattled by this time he couldn't stop himself. "Every
time I ignite my 'saber, I move. I shift. You, I mean, that
other you, advised me never to move except while outside, and I
usually do, but the last time..." he shuddered. "I had no
choice. I'm sorry to have frightened you," he said again to the
strangely familiar Master.
She was still standing in the same place, and Anakin had come
to stand before her, his little face twisted in puzzlement.
"You can't be Obi-Wan," Anakin finally said, in a reasonable
tone of voice. "Obi-Wan died. Master Mar-Gon and I were at the
immolation." He looked up to the Master and took her hand,
squeezing it in sympathy.
"Nevertheless," Yoda said, putting one hand thoughtfully on
Obi-Wan's head, "Obi-Wan he is. How this is possible, I know
not. Familiar you are with events on Naboo?" Obi-Wan nodded
mutely. "Then tell us, you will, what happened to you."
Closing his eyes for a moment, Obi-Wan tried to find his center
and calm down. // Why does it always have to begin with the
damn story? // he thought in futility. "Master and I were sent
to mediate a dispute with the Trade Federation. When we got
there, the Federation attacked Naboo. We managed to get the
Queen off the planet, but our ship was damaged and we had to
make an emergency landing on Tatooine. That's where we found
Anakin." Obi-Wan smiled briefly at the boy, who smiled
uncertainly back.
"Qui-Gon felt he was the 'chosen one'," and here Obi-Wan
struggled to contain the anger he always felt at that, "and
presented him to the Council for training. I told him, probably
too often, that Anakin was too old, but he did anyway. When
they rejected him, he pushed me aside and took Anakin as his
Padawan Learner. We went back to Naboo, where a Sith creature
attacked us in the Nubian power plant. We fought it, I got
separated from Qui-Gon, and the next thing I knew it had cored
him. I managed to get out from the rotating fields and barely
managed to kill the thing, with Master's 'saber as mine got
dropped in the melting pit."
Here, he pulled out Qui-Gon's 'saber and handed it to Yoda.
"Qui-Gon died in my arms, making me promise to train Anakin.
About a month later, I built my own 'saber, tested it, and I've
been moving ever since. I've seen things..." He looked up then
and saw the strange Master's face white with shock.
"Yoda..." she said, her voice strangled.
The small green Master was examining the 'saber in his claws.
"Your 'saber this is, Mar-Gon," he said. "Bigger it is, but
essentially same."
Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, that's Master Jinn's 'saber,
Master."
"I am Master Jinn," the woman said.
Dumbfounded, Obi-Wan's head snapped around and he gasped.
"What?" he asked, his voice several octaves higher than normal.
"I am Mar-Gon Jinn," she said, shakily taking a seat at the
table, Anakin still at her side. "And everything you've just
said..." she shook her head. "What did the Sith thing look
like?" she suddenly demanded.
"It was ugly," Obi-Wan responded, whispering. Without noticing,
he had dropped from his knees to his butt and his head was
whirling. "Bald, with tiny horns on its head. It looked kind of
Zabrakian. It had red and black patterns all over its face,
like tattoos, it's eyes were orange and it had disgusting
teeth. It fought with a double-bladed red lightsaber."
Yoda and Master Jinn stared at each other for a long moment,
then Yoda nodded, and she buried her head in her hands. "This
isn't possible," she murmured in a choked voice. Anakin patted
her back awkwardly, trying to comfort.
"My Padawan," Yoda said gently, "to the bottom of this we will
get, yes. Center, you must."
"You're Qui-Gon?" Obi-Wan said, his brain still trying
to encompass it. "This isn't - I don't - oh, Force," he moaned,
closing his eyes and burying his head in his hands, "I can't do
this. I can't. This after the last one...!"
Impatiently, Yoda tugged on his hand. "From Padawan of my
Padawan, expect such behavior I do not," he said sternly. "Come
with me you will. In my quarters will you sleep tonight. Talk
again tomorrow we will." He looked over at Anakin as he tugged
on Obi-Wan. "Young Padawan, look after your Master you will."
"Yes, Master Yoda," Anakin said, his chest puffing with pride.
"I'll take good care of her."
Smiling, Yoda tugged Obi-Wan again, urging him to his feet.
"Know that I do. Speak in the morning we will, Mar-Gon."
Looking up at the now standing Obi-Wan, Yoda said, "Cloak do
you have? Not good to be seen yet, I think."
"Y-yes, but it's black. I lost my other one and forgot to bring
one from the last..."
Looking at his Master for confirmation, Anakin said, "I'll go
get one from your closet, Master. Master Yoda's probably right,
it would be too confusing."
Nodding absently, Mar-Gon never took devastated eyes from
Obi-Wan's face.
Thankfully, Yoda lived on the same level, but a few corridors
away. He walked slowly, with a cloaked and hooded Obi-Wan at
his side. Obi-Wan's brain was simply too numb to try to reason
why Mar-Gon Jinn would have one of his cloaks in her closet.
Reaching the diminutive Master's apartment, Yoda waved him
inside, set the privacy lock, and indicated he should take one
of the full sized chairs. He did, gratefully sinking into the
depths and putting a hand over his eyes.
A few minutes later, Yoda presented him with a cup of tea, then
took a seat on the small bench he used as a sofa. He examined
Obi-Wan with shrewd eyes while the Knight sipped his tea -
prepared exactly the way he liked it - and spoke when he deemed
the panic level had dropped sufficiently for coherence.
"Padawan room have I," he said, indicating one door off the
main room, "sleep there you will tonight. Mar-Gon was last
resident, big enough for you, the bed is."
"Thank you, Master," Obi-Wan murmured.
"Hummmph." Yoda merely replied. Then after another moment's
silence, he added, "Eaten, have you?"
"Not... not for a while, no," Obi-Wan said, "but I'm not really
hungry."
Another inarticulate noise and Yoda hopped off the bench and
disappeared into his kitchenette, returning with a large
sandwich of cold meats and cheeses, as well as a chilled
bottle. "Left over this was from your last visit," he said,
giving the bottle and the sandwich to Obi-Wan. "Your favorite
it is. Drink it, no one else will."
The bottle was unfamiliar, the drink smelled pungent and
earthy. Obi-Wan sipped, then guzzled. "Oh, it's good. What is
it?"
"Root beer," Yoda said, satisfaction radiating out of him. "Not
have it, do you, where you come from then."
"No. It's glorious. Do you have any more?"
Cackling, Yoda said, "Six pack have I. But price there is, for
each bottle. Tell me, you will, all that has happened to you."
Wolfing down the sandwich he hadn't realized how much he
needed, Obi-Wan nodded. "Gladly, Master. After the last place I
visited..." he shuddered. "And... and I found Qui-Gon. But he
was alone, all alone, and he, he died again. Oh, Master Yoda,"
he whispered, very near tears. Some small, still rational part
of his brain noted with dispassion how his emotions appeared to
be careering all over the place and wondered why.
Yoda must have been reading him; the great golden eyes were
narrowed in concentration and the ears were perked up with
interest. "To healers, you should go, tomorrow. Psychic damage
there may be. But for now, tell me all, then sleep you will."
They stayed up long that night. Obi-Wan talked, polishing off
four of the six bottles of root beer, telling Yoda of all the
places he had seen and been. When he spoke of Palpatine being a
Sith lord, Yoda's eyes grew even larger (if that was possible),
and he nearly shook with rage before visibly calming himself.
"Long time have I mistrusted and disliked that
son-of-a-mynock," he grated out, and Obi-Wan blinked to see
Yoda actually furious. "Report this, I will, to Council. But
later."
Oddly enough, Yoda seemed most interested in the last version
of the Temple he had seen. When he described how Qui-Gon had
identified him by grabbing his genitals, Yoda put a claw over
his eyes and began making strange strangled noises. After a
moment, Obi-Wan realized he was laughing.
"It wasn't funny, Master," Obi-Wan said in a somewhat aggrieved
tone of voice.
"When 900 years old you are, Padawan," Yoda managed to wheeze
out, "find humor in such a situation you will too."
Finishing the last bottle as well as his tale, Obi-Wan finally
fell silent. Then he added, as an afterthought, "I can't seem
to grasp the idea of Qui-Gon as a female. Perhaps I should just
go."
Shaking his head, Yoda said, "No. Realize you must, 50-50
chance there is in gender in all worlds. Mar-Gon my last
Padawan she was. Great in the Force she is, stubborn too.
Always questioning, she is, thorn in the Council's side she
is." Obi-Wan was surprised to hear the same half-exasperated,
half-proud tone in Yoda's voice he often used when describing
Qui-Gon; then he wondered at his surprise.
"She really IS Qui-Gon," he murmured, half sadly.
Nodding Yoda said, "Events you described on Naboo, same they
were here. But realize you must, put you... put Obi-Wan aside
Mar-Gon did not. Realize now I do that Anakin must be
trained. Realize this you do too, in your heart."
A bit ashamed, Obi-Wan nodded. "I-I think I do. I do. I never
really disliked Anakin, just..."
"Envied him you did," Yoda finished for him, softly,
understandingly. "As did Obi-Wan here. Fought they did, on way
to Naboo."
"We did too," Obi-Wan whispered, his eyes misty.
"Sacrificed himself he did, to save his lover, on Naboo."
That brought him up short. "They-they were lovers?" he
stuttered.
"Yes," Yoda said, eyeing him shrewdly. "Vows they were to take,
on his knighting day. Not so on your world, yes?"
Obi-Wan closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of the
chair. "No. No, we weren't. Everywhere ELSE but where I was,
apparently," he added bitterly. "Why, Master Yoda? Why didn't
he see how much I loved him?"
"So sure you are that he did not?" Yoda asked gently. "Wait for
you, he could have, in power plant. Yet he did not. Why?"
"Oh, I don't know, pride? He didn't feel he needed my help? He
didn't want me to get... to protect... oh, Force." Sudden
understanding cascaded in on Obi-Wan. "WHY didn't he TELL me?!"
he suddenly howled, burying his head in his hands.
Yoda climbed off his bench and came over to stroke Obi-Wan's
hair gently. "Perhaps for same reason told him you did not," he
said quietly. "Ready then, you were not. Ready now, you are. I
sense much growth in you over last few days. Emotional,
spiritual. Adjusted to it you have not. For a few days, rest
here you will. Adjust. Help you I will."
It was a calmer Obi-Wan who finally dragged his hands from his
face. He looked into the understanding, wise eyes before him
and sighed. "I will. Thank you, Master Yoda."
His ears perking up, Yoda said, "My job it is. Help I provide
with root beer and consolation. The obvious I point out. To bed
with you now; 900 years old you may not be but tired you are."
On the verge of laughing hysterically, Obi-Wan got himself
under control and nodded. He stood, shouldering his pack, and
made his shaky way into the Padawan's bedroom.
The next morning, a cloaked and hooded Obi-Wan went with Yoda
to the healer's section, where he was poked and prodded and
scanned until they had nothing else to do to him. Yoda left
half way through the multi-hour ordeal, asking him to come to
the topiary garden when he was finished. Exhausted and hungry,
for the tests had taken him beyond the midday meal, Obi-Wan
finally sought out the little green Master.
The topiary garden had always been a favorite of Qui-Gon's, a
quiet place in which to meditate and listen to the living
Force. Not many went there, and nearly no one young did, since
it was designed as a place of quiet contemplation. Obi-Wan felt
the Force envelop him the moment he stepped out into the
sunlight, and he lowered the hood of his robe to allow the sun
to shine on his face. The stress of the last few days began to
recede under the calming influence of the garden.
He did not sense Yoda's presence. But in a sunny spot, near the
yew that was painstakingly shaped as a pouncing feline, Mar-Gon
Jinn knelt in meditation. He spotted her, hesitated briefly,
then turned to go.
"Please stay," she said, so softly he almost didn't hear her.
After a moment, he turned back, shed his robe and knelt near
her, not in her direct line of sight. "My meddlesome Master
decided that we needed some time alone together," she said, not
opening her eyes. "Which is why he left me here to wait for
you."
Obi-Wan chuckled softly. "It seems that Yoda is the same no
matter what reality I'm in," he said.
"I would find it hard to believe he could change," she agreed
seriously. "He is rather sot in his ways."
They fell silent, each basking in the sun and the serenity
surrounding them, allowing tension and other negative emotions
to recede. Eventually, calmly, she began to speak, her voice
low.
"Obi-Wan and I became lovers on his 21st birthday," she said.
"I knew he was in love with me, but really had thought it was
just an infatuation on his part. He proved me wrong. Every one
of my objections he refuted with a logical argument. When I
finally gave in, I realized the depth of my love for him as
well. Our bond went very deep, to my surprise. I felt 20 again,
instead of the decrepit old Master I am."
The normal denial sprang to Obi-Wan's lips; it was with an
effort he swallowed it back, preferring instead to listen.
"Naboo was a trial to both of us. I said things I did not mean
to say, and I'm sure he did as well. We argued about Anakin,
about the Gungans, everything. And I hurt him, very badly, in
the Council Chamber."
Her face still serene, Obi-Wan was beginning to sense the
turbulence beneath her calm demeanor. "I never had a chance to
explain. I never... we argued all the way back to Naboo. It was
not how I would have chosen to spend my last days with my
lover. But we seemed incapable of moving beyond the pain we
felt.
"When - when he was injured, he apologized. It should have been
me apologizing to him. He told me I was right, that Anakin was
the chosen one, and he gladly stepped aside for him. Then he
died in my arms."
Shuddering, she hugged herself tightly, opened her eyes and
turned to Obi-Wan. "That is NOT what I wanted to do," she said
firmly. "Never, ever did I want to push you away, push him
away, for Anakin. I never got to say it to him, so I say it to
you. Forgive me. Forgive me for hurting you so."
Biting his lower lip, Obi-Wan looked at her for a long moment.
His hand came up without his realizing it to trace the line of
her nose. "Your nose was broken," he whispered.
She looked stricken. "Yes. I was ten..."
"And you climbed the S'Patha fountain and fell in," he
finished. "I know. You told me."
Letting his hand drop back to his lap, Obi-Wan said, "When
Qui-Gon stepped behind Anakin and said he would take the boy as
his Padawan Learner, my life just shattered. He didn't know how
much I loved him, at least, I don't think he did. I remember
the look he gave me, over his shoulder, an expression I simply
can't describe.
"We did talk, once we got back Naboo, I apologized and he
accepted my apology. I always thought he wanted to say more,
but he never did. And then events just occurred too rapidly for
any other words."
His eyes closed in memory. "I was trapped outside the cycling
fields. Qui-Gon and that Sith thing were almost all the way
inside. Qui-Gon knelt in meditation, showing off, something, I
don't know. But when the fields cycled, they began fighting
again, and he wouldn't wait for me. I was trapped between the
force-fields and had to stand there and watch as that thing
stabbed him."
He felt a soft touch on his cheek, opened his eyes to see
Mar-Gon staring entranced at the tear she had wiped from his
face. "That's exactly what happened," she murmured, "but it was
you. You wouldn't wait for me. Why?"
A world of pain dwelled in each pair of eyes. "Perhaps we were
all just trying to protect the ones we loved," Obi-Wan
whispered harshly. "At least you knew he loved you. I didn't
have that luxury."
She looked deep into his eyes. Her own eyes were the glorious
indigo of Qui-Gon's; the lashes were perhaps a tad longer, the
face just a bit rounder, the voice an octave higher. But she
was definitely Qui-Gon, there was no longer any doubt in his
mind. When she spoke, her voice carried that faint burr that
Qui-Gon's often did when he was overcome with emotion. "He
loved you," she said, firm conviction in her words. "I cannot
imagine being me and not loving you. He - he just didn't know
how to tell you."
There was nothing he could say to that, no way he could reply
to the hurt and pain in that strange and familiar face. With
exquisite timing, his stomach rumbled, and she swallowed,
quirking a smile.
"You've been with the healers for most of the day - not
something either of us like - and missed noonmeal. Come back to
the apartment. I'll get you a sandwich or something."
Nodding, not trusting his voice, he rose and followed her back
into the building, raising his hood against inquisitive eyes,
as she did. As he followed her, he realized how much even her
aura felt like Qui-Gon's; she was shorter, but not by much, and
still had an inch or so over him.
Once in the safety of the apartment, they removed their robes
and she moved into the kitchenette. "Anakin is at class this
afternoon. I've got some of that sweetbread you like and golath
fruit."
"That would be lovely," he said, his voice sounding strange to
his ears. "Do you... Master Yoda had a drink last night..."
She laughed, and it was Qui-Gon's laugh. "You and your root
beer. You're lucky, Anakin seems to be developing a taste for
it. You know I hate the stuff." Suddenly she froze in the
middle of removing a dark bottle from the coldbox. "I mean...
Sith. Never mind."
They sat at the table, she took some sweetbread for herself to
be polite, and Obi-Wan filled his rebellious stomach. She did
her best not to stare, but it was obvious she was having a hard
time of it, and he felt increasingly uncomfortable.
"Yoda tells me," she said, struggling to break the desperate
silence between them, "that you have had some very...
strange... adventures. And what is this about Palpatine?"
Taking a swig from the bottle, he snorted. "That was something
I discovered at the second.. no, third... reality. Palpatine
had set himself up as Emperor and had created an army of Sith."
"No!"
"Uh-huh. Naboo never happened there, at least I don't think it
did," he continued, finishing the last of the fruit and leaning
back in his chair. "Almost the entire Council had been wiped
out by a bomb, planted by the Sith, and he had whittled the
Jedi down to just a few hundred or less."
As he told the tale, the awkwardness between them began to
ease. She fetched him another bottle of root beer and got
herself some tea. He then briefly described his first two
trips, and glossed over the fourth. "Xanatos?" she said,
musingly. "I-I have vague memories of the name. Rina was my
first Padawan, and Arthapa Depriss my second. Thapa was a
handful too. Then of course I lucked out with you... I mean..."
Obi-Wan began talking quickly to cover her error. "I think you
were lucky then. Xanatos was Qui-Gon's second Padawan, he
turned to the dark. Qui-Gon.. I mean, my Qui-Gon, was forced to
kill him."
"I'll look him up in the Temple records," Mar-Gon decided. "I'm
certain I've heard the name before. Hard to believe that one
person could wreak such havoc."
"That's what I said. I'm still getting used to this, I think.
The last reality..." he shivered and she looked at him oddly.
"You'll have to be more specific than that, Obi-Wan," she said,
and he realized that was the first time she had called him by
his name.
Briefly he described what had happened, while her jaw dropped
farther and farther. "Pleasure boy?" she finally choked out,
unable to decide whether to laugh or gasp in astonishment.
"That's what he said," Obi-Wan said sourly, finishing the last
bottle of root beer. "I didn't stay around long enough to get
more details."
"I should say not!" she agreed, her eyes dancing. "But I've
always said you would make a fine pleasure worker if you
weren't..." Suddenly seeming to realize what she was saying,
she pressed her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide in distress.
"I'm sorry," she choked out. "This isn't working. I can't... I
know you're not him... but..."
"I'm sorry too, Master," he said quietly. On impulse, he rose
and quickly walked around the table to where she sat, then bent
to one knee next to her chair and took her hand. "I've been
searching for my Master," he said, quietly, "to tell him some
things. The Qui-Gon I made love to the other day was not my
Qui-Gon, and even had he not died, I don't think I would have
been happy staying with him."
"Are you so sure, Obi-Wan?" she asked, her other hand on his
face, the callused thumb tracing his lower lip.
"Yes, I'm sure, because I never had the urge to tell him
this... that I'm sorry. Sorry for arguing about Anakin, sorry
for not guarding your back better, sorry... sorry for not
telling you that I loved you..."
Her hand on his mouth made him stop. "No need, Obi-Wan," she
was saying, fighting back tears. "No need. I know. He knows.
And I'm sorry too. Sorry for so many, many things."
She brushed his lengthening hair back away from his face
tenderly. "I miss your braid," she murmured. "You used to laugh
at me when I used it to tug you towards me, kept saying 'that
is not a handle, Master,' every time I did..."
He captured her hand in one of his and gently kissed her
fingers. "I'm sorry I'm not him, I'm so sorry," he said, his
voice low and rough.
Shaking her head roughly, in negation or denial neither of them
knew, she pulled him towards her with both hands and kissed him
roughly, invading his mouth with her tongue and pouring her
soul into his. After a stunned moment, he kissed her back, just
as deeply.
They both broke away, panting for air, at the same time. "You
even taste like him," Obi-Wan groaned, running his hands over
and through her hair.
"So... so do you," she gasped, sliding to the floor next to
him. "Need... need you," she said, her lips meeting his in
another kiss.
"Want you," he murmured, his lips wandering over her face and
neck, to nip and then suck at her earlobe. She gasped and
pulled him closer for a moment, then suddenly seemed to come to
herself. She pushed him away, gently, to hold him at arm's
length. Taking deep breaths, she got herself back under
control.
"This is not wise," she said slowly and firmly, studying the
floor between them. "You are not the man I loved, and will be
moving on. Yes?" At that, she looked up, hope and despair
warring on her face. "You do know, you have a home here, if you
wish it. A stopping point."
Nearly overcome with emotion himself, Obi-Wan forced himself to
calm down, to think again. "I-I don't know..." he said slowly.
"I haven't... oh gods. Master, I don't know what to do."
Closing her eyes, she sank back on her heels. "Then this is not
the way to think about it, is it?" she asked gently, wrapping
her long arms around herself.
"N-no," he agreed, reluctantly. Part of him wanted her so bad
it hurt, and that part made him smile a bit through his
confusion and lust.
"What?" she asked gently.
"I-I don't know," he answered, helping her to her feet. "It's
just funny, I guess. Male or female, we seem to be destined to
be together some way or other."
"Even as a pleasure boy, evidently," she responded, wryly.
He laughed, a little, forced thing. "Even as that. I couldn't
see you as Qui-Gon at first, now I can't see you as anything
else."
That troubled her for some reason she couldn't put her finger
on. Rather than worry at it, she took a deep, cleansing breath
and re-centered herself. "It seems we have excess energy to
work off. Would you care to spar? It always seemed to work in
the past."
Obi-Wan nodded, agreeing that it might help indeed. "But I
can't use my 'saber," he said.
"Oh, that's right. Wait here." She slipped into her bedroom
briefly and returned with a 'saber, which she handed to him.
"Yours wasn't lost. I've kept it... as a memory."
Mouth open in shock, he took the 'saber from her and hefted it.
It was, indeed, his 'saber and he swallowed in emotion as the
familiar grip slipped into his hand. "Thank you," he whispered.
"I-I don't know what to say."
"That's enough," she said, her own voice rough. "Let's go
spar."
Sparring with Mar-Gon was both alike and different than
sparring with Qui-Gon. She hadn't quite the reach or the
strength of Qui-Gon, but did have an increased agility and
tendency to go to aerials that he had not. It didn't take
Obi-Wan long to adapt to her slightly different style, and they
both enjoyed themselves.
He joined her and Anakin at dinner, along with Yoda, who said
little but watched all with bright, inquisitive eyes. Anakin
chatted with Obi-Wan, easily accepting that which his elders
had difficulty with. Obi-Wan found himself unconsciously
slipping into teacher mode frequently, since Anakin's classes
had been mechanical engineering and theory, something the boy
excelled at instinctively. After dinner, he helped Anakin clean
up, over the boy's weak protestations, then sat and listened
happily while Mar-Gon, Yoda and Anakin spoke of the latest
Temple gossip. Soon it was Anakin's bed time, and he bid the
child a sleep well with a peaceful heart.
Soon after Anakin, Yoda stood. "Retire, I shall too. In need of
sleep does old Yoda become, like young boy." He looked between
the two left, silently assessing. Then he turned, and as he
left, said, "Door I will leave keyed to you, young Knight. See
you or not I will at breakfast."
As the door closed behind him, the two Jedi laughed gently. "So
much for subtlety," Mar-Gon said. "Can I get you another root
beer?" she asked, rising.
He stood to follow her. "I'd love one, but I can get it." He
fetched the bottle from the coldbox as she put water on for
tea, then sipped it as he watched her prepare the leaves, milk
and honey. She turned before the water boiled and caught him
staring at her. "I'm sorry," he murmured, looking down.
She moved to stand directly in front of him and with a gentle
touch, lifted his chin. "It's all right, Obi-Wan," she said
softly. "This is not a situation I would wish upon my worst
enemy."
He quirked a brief, sad smile at her. "If I stay, we'll always
have this tension between us, won't we," he asked. "Even if...
even if we become..."
Swallowing, she gave him an anguished look. "You aren't him,"
she whispered, caressing his cheek, a touch he unconsciously
leaned into. "I'll always know it, deep down."
"It's the same with me," he murmured. With the realization and
admittance came a lessening of the strain between them, and
finally their eyes could meet honestly. "I would... I would
give you a gift tonight, before I leave," he said, slowly. "But
I have no wish to hurt you, and I think it might."
"You always were wise beyond your years," she said, ignoring
the teapot whistling behind her. After a moment, she turned and
poured with shaking hands, steeping the tea. After a few
minutes more, to let it cool, she sipped. "I cannot deny that I
am sorely tempted," she said in a dreamy voice. "To be able to
hold you in my arms one last night..."
Hesitantly, Obi-Wan put his bottle on the counter, then took
her teacup and set it down as well. Then he carefully enfolded
her in a tight embrace. Some small part of his brain marveled
at how close in height they were, while the rest of him fought
to keep his physical reactions to a minimum, without much
success. They stood wrapped in each other's arms for a long
moment, simply taking comfort in the other's presence.
For one brief instant, Mar-Gon let go her grief and let herself
fall into fantasy. She once again held the man she loved more
than anyone in the galaxy. She felt his hardness nudge against
her crotch, enveloped herself in his smell, feel and aura once
again. From the wetness between her legs, she dispassionately
realized how much her body wanted his, regardless of what her
head felt.
Reluctantly, they drew apart. "I'd best go now, I
think," he said roughly.
"Yes," she gasped, her hands falling from his neck.
Before stepping away, he leaned in and kissed her once more, a
hot, hard kiss that stole breath. Then he backed out of the
kitchenette, his eyes not leaving hers until he turned in the
sitting room to walk out.
It was the hardest thing he ever did.
Yoda said nothing at all to him at breakfast, merely served him
some of his favorite hot sticky buns and juice. After they had
broken their fast, he said, "Given you clean bill of health,
the healers have. Meditate more, they suggest. Share meditation
with me this morning you would like?"
"Yes, Master," he replied quietly. "I would like that. Then...
I think I should go, by noonmeal or just after." Meeting Yoda's
sad gaze, he continued, "It's just too painful to stay. For
both of us."
Sighing, Yoda said, "Understand I do. Sorry, I am. But right
thing you are doing. Proud of you, I am. Very proud."
Unaccountably, that brought a huge lump to Obi-Wan's throat,
which he barely managed to wash away with the last of the
juice. Then they knelt together in a sunny patch of Yoda's
apartment and meditated, the presence of the aged Master a
great comfort and support to Obi-Wan. He emerged from
meditation calmer and more at peace with himself than he had
felt in days.
After noonmeal, they went to the main statuary garden, the site
of so many of Obi-Wan's transfers. Yoda reiterated what another
version of himself had advised, that Obi-Wan should always
initiate the transfer from outside, at least where possible.
Yoda had also replaced his rather battered satchel with a
sturdier backpack, and as Obi-Wan hefted it he heard a
tell-tale clink of bottles.
"Only one six-pack," Yoda said, cackling. "When gone it is,
gone it is for good. But give you pleasure it will for a
while." After a moment, he added, "When change you do, seek me
out you should first. Help you I will, I think, more than any
other."
As they made their way through the garden, heading for the
quiet corner Obi-Wan knew to be out-of-the-way, a shout behind
them made them turn. Mar-Gon and Anakin were hurrying across
the grass towards them, out of breath.
"You weren't going to leave without saying goodbye, were you?"
Anakin demanded, his face stricken.
With a pang, remembering how he left his own Padawan behind,
Obi-Wan knelt and held out his arms to Anakin, who swarmed into
them. "I'm sorry, Ani," he whispered. "I didn't mean to. I
just... didn't want..."
"To hurt Master Mar-Gon again," Ani whispered back, seriously.
"I know. I promise, I'll take good care of her."
Swallowing around his tears, Obi-Wan said, "I know you will. I
know you will." Then he stood and faced Mar-Gon. Her face was
composed but her eyes were suspiciously bright. They hugged
tightly, and kissed chastely. He pressed his lightsaber into
her hand. "I have yours - his," he said harshly when she tried
to protest. "This is all you have left of him. I can't take
that from you."
"Take care, Obi-Wan," she said, her voice rough with tears.
"The Force will be with you, I know." Kissing him gently one
last time, she released him, mouthing, "Remember me."
"I will," he mouthed back. Quickly kneeling again, he felt
Yoda's blessing upon his head. Then he stood, moved into the
shady, sheltered corner, drew his 'saber and with a bang,
disappeared from their lives forever.
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