Within

by Kylara Dee (kylara_dee@yahoo.co.uk)

Archive: Um, well, MA, and anywhere else that doesn't hate me for what I did ;) Just ask me first please.

Category: AU. Angst. First-Time. POV.

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Character death. CrazyDelusionalSemi-Evil!Obi (*runs away quickly*)

Spoilers: Well, TPM, but that's a given.

Summary: Start the movie, pause it when QG leaves to go into Mos Espa, then begin reading :)

Feedback: Yes, I'm normal; I'd like some plz ;)

Disclaimer: Alas, the boys aren't mine (or anything else SW-ish) and I ain't making money from this. Pleased to meet you, have a nice day, bye bye! Now SCRAM!

Notes: Big thanks to Yogie ^x^

..... = a pause to take a breath, to find ones centre, whatever.

Oh, please don't hate me :) I didn't make Obi evil! Honest! It just seems like it for a few posts...

Part 1: Obi-Wan

Clarity. It's an amazing feeling. I'd always thought the Force was completely open to me. I mean, I've been a good student, haven't I? I listen to Its promptings and loyally act on them, even when the suggestions go against everyone else's instincts.

But now there is this...light. Amazing. It's like I've opened my eyes for the first time in my life. I don't understand, but I don't need to understand, so long as I get to keep this clarity.

I see it all now: not the distant blur of possibility lurking on the horizon, I'm talking about right before my eyes, crystal-clear. No doubt at all.

I see all their deaths and I feel rather numb. Yes, it seems I play an integral part in their demise, but I can live with that. Do you know why? Because now that I know, I can change it! Merely knowing alters the future, so there is hope! The universe irrevocably shifted upon the unbinding of my eyes and I won't let it fall back into the shadows.

I see the path we would have taken. Back to Coruscant, standing before the Council... Oh, Master, how could you be so naïve? I don't believe you would say the things you were destined to say, but if the Force is showing it to me, I suppose you were to suffer from your own form of blindness.

I know you respect your prophecies, and I do know the faith you put in them. I truly, truly know the strength of your connection to the Force; I know you would never question what it tells you. But did you ever take into account the influence of the darkness that hovers nearby?

Balance to the Force? Can't you see? The Light rules over the Dark at this moment, why does it need changing? Balance would mean increasing the Darkness, and you want to train the boy who's supposed to do this? I don't know how you strayed from the path of the Light, but I will endeavour to set you right, Master. I promise you.

I saw his death too. Master, gone, at the hands of a dark being that could only have been a Sith. That will change. Knowledge can make such a difference to a situation, and I won't let him die.

All those innocent lives, all because of that dark master. I know his face now. Perhaps I should contact the Council so they can deal with him. Whatever. We'll decide that once I'm done saving Master's life.

That task, as daunting as it might sound, what with fighting against fate and all, will be very easy. Not only do I have the approval of the Force why else would It have shown me what was to happen? but I've also seen the perfect opportunity to solve the most prominent problem. The boy.

He is the key. Yes, you would call him the Chosen One, Master, but you are excused for your temporary lapse in logic. Anyway, my point, the boy is the key. My master is meeting him right now, probably just beginning to work out this whole Chosen One prophecy thing. He'll be in some kind of race, and the boy's success, or failure, will be the moment. The most important moment in the entire galaxy.

And I can bend it all to my will. Isn't that wonderful! Everybody is running around following their destinies, and here I am in a narrow bunk being contacted by the Force Itself and given orders to change the very thing spurring everyone else on. Oh, I know it sounds strange...why would it even be their destiny if I was destined to come along and change it all?

I think I've worked it out. See, what I saw in my vision was what was going to happen, but after the path was decided upon, the Force went and changed whatever is supposed to be Its mind. And so now it has fallen on my shoulders to set everything on its way towards the new future the Force has shown me.

I wouldn't say I'm an adept at mechanics, but I know the basics; enough to keep a ship in the air and on the right course. I think my problem lay in the distance. I was still playing guard to the ship that had landed us on this Force-forsaken world my home planet, would you believe? and hadn't realised what the boy was doing. If I'd known the opportunity to dispense with the brat would arise before the race even began, I would have been able to prepare better.

As it happened, the only warning I got was through Master's transmission. While he was talking to me of solutions to our situation, I was easing past his voice and into his surroundings. I simply had to see the boy who would be the death of a galaxy.

When I brushed against his presence I was hard pressed to retain enough sensibility to continue the conversation with my Master, such was the darkness that enshrouded this boy.

Anyway, once I saw what the boy was doing, I decided to try a little intervention... I mean, there's no point in leaving everything to the last minute, is there? I much prefer the odds when I've got more than one chance at something. So, when the time came, I reached out with my senses towards Qui-Gon, using his presence as a marker for the boy's location. Master's aura was slowly beginning to cloud the shadow collecting so smoothly that he couldn't recognise its proximity. Or its danger.

The cause of this was so easy to find by his stained existence in the Force that I marvelled at Qui-Gon's inability to notice it. Unfortunately, it would have been stupid to even try and influence that mind, so I had to settle instead for the machine he was sitting in.

I knew, if the engines were pushed so far, it would all be over and my task would be completed earlier than expected. Apparently I didn't put enough strength into it though, and only the stupid Gungan died. I hung around, hoping to discover that there was too much damage to enter the vehicle in the race, but no, the boy is so wonderful, he's even a genius at fixing things. Great.

That left me with no other choice than to go deal with the brat in person. Off I traipse, in the middle of the desert night so that Master wouldn't try to contact me on the ship and find me missing, and follow the bond to Qui-Gon straight to the boy's house. Damn, it was tiny! How they all managed to find a flat surface to sleep on I don't know! But my senses were tuned in enough to know that I wouldn't be able to get to the boy that night.

Oh, sure, the Force shows up all glowy and bright, revealing what the future will hold if I don't intervene, making it very clear that I have to take some major steps to fix it all, but does it provide me with the chance to do these things? No. The only consolation I can take is that during the race tomorrow it will take the barest nudge to wipe the kid out.

This city is a dump. There are lowlifes everywhere; stealing, scamming, dealing... Still, it's a good place to get lost in. It's not like I can camp outside the door nearest my Master, so instead, until morning, I'll just have to associate with the scum that lives here.

Harsh words for a Jedi? Perhaps. But I have a certain justification, you know. I could have ended up as one of them, if the Force hadn't found me.

Part 2: Qui-Gon

I would never think to claim my connection to the Force as perfect. I have been proven incorrect and unfocused along with the best of them. Yet in all my years, I'd hardly ever imagined that the Force could be so mystifying.

Let me say this outright, before I revert back to full denial.

I desire my apprentice.

I'm not proud of the fact: as a Jedi Master, I'm fairly mortified by it. There are far too many bad things that could happen because of my inappropriate feelings for Obi-Wan, and so I do the only thing available to me: release what emotions I can, and bury what I can't.

The good things that could come from admitting the truth? You don't think I dream of what could be? I do, believe me, I do. He is a boy and I am more than double his age and yes, I know it shouldn't matter but I am supposed to be his role model, his mentor, his master.

Of course I question why I should feel this way - and the way I feel is still uncertain. Lust or love, I just don't know; although the former would ruin any faith I have in myself and truly test my belief that I am not a shallow man.

And love...love...if it were love... Could my heart handle rejection if it were love?

Obi-Wan knows he could win a dozen hearts with a look, and if I merely lusted after his body he would understand that I am just a lonely old man. But if he thought that I loved him...I would lose him.

It is a trial that must have been faced by many other Jedi before me, I'm sure. Yet still I have no solution.

.....

There is more to this tale that my misdirected affection.

Though perhaps I shouldn't blame it, I have often, in my more frustrated moments, appealed to the Force about the situation, demanding to know the importance that desiring my padawan holds in my destiny.

It never did answer me.

Fair enough, It wants me to deal with it myself. Fine.

Now I'm not so sure. It is entirely possible that I received no answer because my connection has become distorted somehow.

A strange theory perhaps, but considering what happened in Mos Espa, I find myself more and more convinced of it.

It started with the boy, Anakin. When we met, my instincts jumped within my mind, and I knew he would play some role of importance in the near future. Later, when events carried us to his home, I saw fully how things would progress: the race, Naboo, his training, his knighting...

Where did it all go wrong?

How could I have been mistaken? The signs had been consistently clear and precise, but then...then in the space of a heartbeat it all fell apart.

And it was all my fault.

His mother's eyes burnt into me, as I stood apart from the crushed wreckage of his racer. Her anger hazed the air like fog. He wasn't dead, thank the Force. No, not dead, but broken. I had been sure he was the Chosen One... No, no, he is the Chosen One, the Force continues to tell me that much.

The path I had seen him taking, however - the path where I claim him as my padawan - has apparently been forgotten by the Force.

But why would it change so abruptly? When Anakin appeared in my life I could easily have predicted the exact turn of events concerning the Naboo situation; the people who would be there and the trials we would have to face.

Now I can't be sure of anything.

Jar-Jar died. I don't know why. He had an additional, important part to play, and yet a slight miscalculation on Anakin's part and he was gone. I should have seen it then: I should have seen that the pod wasn't ready to race.

Yet my narrow-mindedness didn't allow for any insight.

And so, at the end of the day, the Chosen One was carried home with just about every bone in his body crushed, every muscle torn. They had no money to pay for treatment, and Shmi wouldn't let me near him. Not that I could have done anything worthwhile.

I think the Force has taken Its leave of me.

All right, that was rather melodramatic, wasn't it? I am a Jedi Master, I should be above such things. I do not doubt the Force. If I didn't see the change coming, it was for a reason. I trust in the Force.

So why doesn't the Force trust in me?

Watto hovered nearby, as I wallowed in my self-pity, counting his winnings and leering at me from time to time. He was waiting for me to lead him to his new ship, making no effort to be subtle about it.

I made it my duty to see the young queen to Coruscant safely, but instead I gambled with her sole means of transport and lost. I had been certain the Force was guiding me to success.

The handmaiden was not impressed by my actions, which meant that the queen would be outraged. Padme demanded to know what I intended to do, and then she said something that cut me to the bone.

"Jar-Jar, Ani... How many more of us have to lose our lives before you stop taking these risks?"

They didn't seem like risks when I took them.

"Anakin isn't dead," I reminded her.

"As good as. Did you see him?! If he survives, he'll be scarred for life!"

"The Force..."

That was a mistake.

Her face darkened with fury. "You expect me, or any of us, to trust your Force after everything that has happened? All I know is what I see, and all I've seen so far is death and suffering. How do you intend to get the queen to Coruscant now?"

I said the only thing I could say.

"We will find a way."

Part 3: Obi-Wan

Ah, my dear, dear Master. How I admire your optimism. It's just a shame you don't know it was my delicate touch on the girl's mind that turned it so completely against you. Oh, I'm sure it makes you a little uncomfortable, and when the queen decides to take her leave of us, you might even curse the Force for a while. But I'm sure it will all be worth it.

When we are rid of these people, we will be able to cope with anything; just so long as it has nothing to do with a certain Sith and his blasted arrogant weapon. Who needs two blades anyway? Only a weak fighter, I'm sure. Hmph.

Let's see: the big-eared dolt, the boy, the queen - just as soon as that flying bug gets his hands on her ship - oh, and the boy's mother. I think that's about it. The queen's crew will follow her without question...so...I'm done! I've gotten everyone who could have led you back towards that impossible path out of the way!

Master looks rather dejected, but I can't really help that right now. I'll comfort him in time, once we find somewhere suitable to stay.

.....

Now there's a thought. Well, well. Yes, I see it so clearly now. I will comfort him, hold his hand as he questions where he went wrong. He will turn to me, wanting to lose himself within me.

He will be my reward for changing the future of the galaxy.

Yeeess... I think I like this turn of events. Thank you, Force.

Part 4: Qui-Gon

I hadn't thought about Obi-Wan at all that day. Believe me, that was an astonishing achievement.

The Jedi aren't customarily celibate. They provide the largest number of force-sensitive children and aren't encouraged to keep to themselves. An old master with his young, male, apprentice, however, would be received with a little less enthusiasm, I'm sure.

More important than the reaction of my peers, why would he want me?

This isn't the issue. It is of no concern to what happened to Anakin, what happened to the Force. Yes, Obi-Wan consumes my every waking thought. Yes, I desire him as I should not, but it makes no difference!

.....

It seemed to take a long time to get back to the hidden ship, and a dark cloud had apparently decided to take up residence in my head. My thoughts were turned to the impending conversation with Amidala, but would they stay focused? No.

This revered master was a mental wreck.

Finally, the ship came into view, blurred by heat waves and dust, but there nonetheless. As we neared, Panaka emerged from inside, his gaze instantly seeking the handmaiden's. Only then did he glance around our enlarged group with a frown. "What's going on?"

"I'll fill you in, Captain," Padme said, glaring at me before stalking ahead and into the ship.

I was surprised that my padawan had not appeared to greet me, and caught Panaka's arm before he could go back inside the ship, asking Obi-Wan's whereabouts.

"He went to look around, said he'd sensed something that needed investigation," Panaka replied.

"How long?" I did not like this. Fear is obviously not something I foster, yet once started, it's hard to shake. After the past few days I'd had, my mind was over-sensitised to all the possibilities of what could have happened to my absent apprentice.

"We found the note this morning."

I was already reaching out with my mind, tracing our bond until I found his presence. It was shielded, and rather far away, but he was all right.

Part 5: Obi-Wan

Oh, I know it was a risk to leave the ship and my alibi for so long, but I had my story sorted, and my unsuspecting Master would never think I was anywhere near him that day. I was just doing my job, like the good little padawan I am.

It's a shame I couldn't get back before him, but I had to check on the boy and his mother. I had to make certain neither of them would cause us any trouble in the future. That is the last thing we need.

I didn't have to worry about it really; they both had enough anger to keep them away from us for the rest of their lives. It was, however, clearly due to some subtle prodding by the Force that I hung around for a while. If I had returned any earlier, I would never have stumbled across that blasted Sith from my vision preparing to ambush Qui-Gon. Yeah, I know I'd seen a different setting for his death, but I had already changed the future by altering the outcome of the pod race, so perhaps the Darkness had compensated for it. Besides, even if it wouldn't lead to his death, I wasn't about to stand by and let someone hurt him.

So I dealt with the thing, whatever it was supposed to be. I say dealt - well, rather beat it up a bit, then let it run away. The Force didn't want me to kill it yet.

Anyway, I would have gotten back to the ship about the same time as Qui-Gon if I hadn't taken a detour to deal with the Sith. I admit the fight took it out of me, so I had to heal and restore myself before my master saw me, otherwise he'd bug me about what happened and who it was and...and...and...

There would be no keeping him on the planet if he knew there were Sith about. He would do everything in his power to get back to report the news to the Council. And I don't want him doing that. I don't want him going anywhere that would endanger his life.

Hmm. The Force clearly showed me the future so I could change it. I wonder if It will warn me again when he is at risk. After all, I'm supposed to keep him alive. If I weren't, then It wouldn't have told me how to avert his death!

But I digress. When I got back, everybody was in the process of removing the queen's possessions from the ship. Master practically ran to meet me, brimming with questions and concerns. Once I knew he would be my reward, I could see the affection the Force had been building within him, in preparation for our joining. It's funny, because I never thought I cared for him in that way, and yet, faced with a vision of his death, I realised just how much I love him.

Oh well, big emotional events often reveal sides to ourselves we would never usually notice.

I explained how I'd sensed a disturbance in the Force. How I went to find out what it was, as it seemed to be near the ship and I knew how important it was to keep the queen safe. It took so long because I couldn't pinpoint it, and I searched the surrounding desert, just in case.

Master was only half-listening to my words. I think his mind was preoccupied by what he saw as his failure and plans of how to fix everything. I wish I could have told him not to worry. That I had it all sorted and we would be just fine. He told me what happened and I nodded along dutifully, mentally ticking off all the times I had intervened.

I had a few regrets when I saw how the queen's anger hurt Qui-Gon. He didn't react on the surface, but I could sense his mental flinch. My poor Master, I'll treat you as you deserve to be treated. We might be stuck on this backward planet, but I will make it a paradise for you. Perhaps we could go to another world in the near future. Somewhere with lots of wildlife so you could be nearer to your living Force. Would you like that, my love? Of course you would. I will give you that, I've just decided. We will stay here while the galaxy adjusts to the shift in reality I've set in motion, then we will find you somewhere glorious enough to become your home.

The queen and her people cast off their Jedi protectors. She said they would find their own way to Coruscant to deal with the Senate. Qui-Gon tried to persuade her, but there wasn't much he could say. It was up to her if she wanted help, we couldn't insist that we go along.

The blue flying thing left with the ship, and then the queen's party began the long walk back into Mos Espa, leaving Qui-Gon and I standing all alone in a very big desert.

He didn't speak for a long time. I knew he was trying to make sense of what had happened, of the sudden change that totally contradicted the path he had been shown by the Force. I'm not a bad person, it nearly broke my heart to see pain in his eyes, but it wasn't the pain of dying, so it was okay. I touched his arm, drawing his blue gaze to mine and smiled up at him.

I know what he saw when he looked at me. Hope.

He probably thought I was being optimistic about the situation. But I was thinking about the beginning of our life together. It doesn't matter, it brought a smile to his lips. Albeit a weary one.

"What now, my young Padawan?" he asked, his tone flat with defeat. "We appear to have been excused from our mission."

I smiled again. "Now we find somewhere to sleep. You've had a hard day, Master, and I think rest is in order."

His eyes went distant then, and he bent mechanically to pick up the packs the queen had graciously left for us. "We will have to find a ship that will take us to Coruscant. We have nothing to pay for passage with, so I suppose we will have to persuade someone to take us." He handed me a heavy pack. "We should try to keep an eye on the queen, see that she gets on a transport, maybe even join her on it. We can't just let her go off without our protection."

"Master," I said, trying to keep the impatience out of my voice. "We were sent to negotiate with the Trade Federation, not baby-sit the queen. She's competent enough to find her own way to the capital. I know you want to get back to the Temple, but perhaps we could stay here a little longer."

And here I brought out the big guns, dropping my head slightly and looking up at him in a perfect rendition of innocence. "This was my home, you know."

He stared at me, obviously torn between what he believed to be his duty and my request. I wish I could read his mind, it would help a lot when faced with these circumstances. I've heard stories about bonded couples that share a telepathic link, so maybe when I've taken him, we, too, will be able to hear each other's thoughts.

Part 6: Qui-Gon

His home?

I blinked, not so much surprised at the revelation, but at the appeal to stay. It was our responsibility to see the Naboo situation through to some kind of resolution, even if we had temporarily lost the queen's trust.

We should have been taking steps to report back to the Council, and courtesy dictates it be in person. I wanted to inform them of Anakin. Crash or not, his midi-chlorian count was incredible, and there was still the chance he could be saved. The Jedi could send their best healers, take him back to the Temple and treat him there.

We shouldn't have even considered staying on Tatooine simply because it was Obi-Wan's birth planet.

"The Temple is your home, Obi-Wan," I said carefully. He had to have a reason to ask such a thing, but I couldn't tell what was going through his mind.

"I know, Master, and the Jedi are my family. But you understand that I want to know where I came from, don't you?" He paused, pale gaze turning pensive. "I sense something about this planet. My instincts are telling me not to leave so soon."

I wasn't sure if it was best to encourage him to discover his roots, although I could hardly question his instincts. One of us had to be tuned into the Force, and I'd already been proven temporarily blind. I had to chance it.

So I compromised.

"We will stay for a few days, but after that we should try to make our way home."

Obi-Wan's eyes sparked in a way that pretty much wiped clear my mind. I can't say I like being so out of control. It can't be the mark of a good Jedi to start going weak at the knees over their padawan's eyes in the middle of a pretty grave situation.

"Thank you, Master," he said. "That will be long enough to sort out this feeling, I'm sure of it."

I hope so, Obi-Wan, because if we find out the Force is misleading you as well, our report to the Council will be a sombre one.

Part 7: Obi-Wan

It's very easy to convince someone to do something when they trust you as much as Qui-Gon trusts me. All right, so I don't enjoy lying to my master, but it is for his own good. Besides, it wasn't really a lie, I had sensed something, it just wasn't exactly what I had hinted at.

The day had grown old by that time and it would have been almost morning if we tried walking to Mos Espa for the night, so I suggested we slept where we were. Sure, the desert is a cold place at night, but we had thermal blankets in our packs and we could share body heat... Can't we, Master dear?

I think he still felt a bit dejected after the day's events, or he might not have wanted to chance staying out in the open all night. We found a little outcropping of rock and settled in; building a fire, sharing some field rations, and lying down to sleep.

My mind at that time was consumed with the next few days. I had that long to make him so completely a part of me that I would be able to suggest our retirement to a paradise world, and he would agree without a single thought about the Jedi. I was convinced that it shouldn't be too hard; he clearly loved me, he just didn't know that he belonged to me.

So there we were, lying close to each other to share heat, but not quite touching, as the night wasn't too cold at that point. I was thinking about how to make him come to me when I realised it didn't have to be on his own terms. The trick lay in making him make the first move, but that didn't mean I couldn't nudge him in the right direction.

He was still awake, probably running the day's events through his head again; looking for something he could have done better. I pretended I was asleep, mumbled a little and rolled towards him. There, pressed nicely against his side. A little more shifting and I had manoeuvred myself enough to make a very good pillow out of his chest.

I don't think he knew I was awake, and if he did, he certainly didn't argue with me. We've had to share a bunk before on some missions, and as it's rather difficult to monitor your movements during sleep, contact is inevitable. You have to admire the guy's control, though. If he'd cared for me before this, then the times we'd become slightly entangled must have been rather difficult for him.

Be that as it may, a few days and he wouldn't feel uncomfortable around me, his new lover, ever again.

I fell asleep then, happy in the knowledge that the Force approved of my actions, instead of being afraid of the repercussions of loving my master. Oh, I've known many padawans who thought they were in love with their masters. They were so worried their affection would lead to them being separated by the Council from the objects of their desire.

I never felt fear about our relationship. The Force is behind it.

Part 8: Qui-Gon

It was hardly a new experience. The contact, the response... It didn't make it any easier to control though.

He was just cold, automatically seeking the nearest source of warmth and curling around it. Better me than the glowing embers of our fire, I suppose.

I tried to move, just a little, for comfort's sake. Instead, I only made my condition worse, unwittingly pulling rough fabric across painfully sensitive skin.

A Jedi Master, and I can't even keep a tight reign on my own body.

I'd contemplated coming clean with the boy, of course I had, but you can see why that idea could never seriously be considered. So much could go wrong, just because of a single admission.

And the only thing I have feared in my life is losing him.

I tried to push away the truth, bury it beneath logic: I'd never felt anything for a man; the notion didn't turn me on. That was true enough, but it didn't stop me from watching the way Obi-Wan seemed to flow instead of walk, it didn't stop me from noting the way he could fill a room with his light...

I even tried denial. I wanted someone my own age, someone with the same interests as me, someone who wasn't a Jedi, someone who wasn't a Jedi apprentice, someone who...someone...

I wanted Obi-Wan.

He shifted, while I agonized over my feelings for him, unconsciously nuzzling into my chest. At that point I decided I was being punished for lusting after my padawan.

Then I caught myself and reviewed my thoughts. Once again I found myself questioning the exact nature of my affections for him, and, once again, my mind seemed to haze at the query.

I didn't mention that before, did I?

In a moment of...clarity? Yes. Clarity, that's it. In a moment of clarity, I realised something: it wasn't my feelings that refused any classification, it was my mind, rebelling whenever I tried to analyse those particular feelings.

Oh, I don't pretend to completely understand it. The only way I can visualise it is as a mental block, set to distract me if I try to think too deeply about the issue.

Funny that it doesn't kick in when I need it the most, when I'm in such awkward situations as I was at that particular moment. I needed to meditate on the problem, sort out once and for all what was going on in my head. Of course, with Obi-Wan pressed rather intimately against me, the only thing I could do successfully was to worry about him discovering my body's betraying response to his proximity.

And all this, on top of being completely and utterly confused about why the Force had decided to change direction on me so abruptly.

It didn't make sense that my instincts could be so wrong. Not after years of being so finely tuned to the sway of life in the galaxy.

With a final sigh, I forced myself to sleep.

Part 9: Obi-Wan

Waking up was interesting. Master had gone to sleep aroused and woke up doubly so. I'm not surprised really, what with my morning erection digging into his hip and all.

I rolled away from him and kicked off my blanket. It was too soon to do anything else; I didn't want to push him and risk giving away my intentions.

"Good morning, Master," I said pleasantly, enjoying the sense of his struggle to control himself. "We don't have much water left but it will be enough until we get into Mos Espa and find a transport."

"Transport to where?" he asked as he sat up. His voice was strained with the effort to appear unruffled.

"Bestine, I thought. The capital. That's where my file says I was found."

"Are you sure you want to do this, Obi-Wan?"

So considerate, aren't you? No, to be honest, finding out about my family is secondary to our joining, but it is the best excuse I have for keeping you here with me.

"Yes, Master. I'm sure."

We walked into the city and, as I suspected he would, Qui-Gon decided we would find out how everybody else was doing. I think we might have to have a talk about his obsession with duty once we've resolved a few other matters.

Shmi answered the knock, took one glance at him and closed the door again. Qui-Gon is never one to give up so easily, and he caught the door before it was completely shut.

"Please, Shmi, how is he?"

There was that pain again, hidden deep in his voice and eyes. The slave woman turned back, slightly mollified by his obvious regret.

"No worse, no better. I can't afford to pay a medic to treat him and no one is going to help a slave for free."

"Will you let us try to heal some of his wounds?"

"I think you've done enough damage, don't you? I would rather you let him go in peace. He deserves to rest, not live a life of pain and disability."

Atta girl. And without my influence too! Excellent.

I know it hurts, Master. But you wait. It will all be worth it.

There wasn't any reason to hang around after that, so we left and went to check on Queen Amidala. The girl was easy to trace, considering she had swept through the city, sold all of her luxurious clothing for a meagre amount and then offered that money as the first quarter of payment for anyone willing to take her to Coruscant. As you can imagine most were dubious of her word, but greed always seems to win over these weak-minded fools, and so she had already left the planet on her way towards the galactic core.

That news was of some comfort to Qui-Gon, and I think my increasing delight was rubbing off on him a little. When we finally hitched a lift to Tatooine's capital, he actually seemed halfway relaxed.

Bestine sort of lay at the top of the Jundland Wastes, which meant either a rough ride northward through the rocky crevices, or a dusty straight line across the Western Dune Sea. Our speeder's pilot was apparently bone-idle and oblivious to the torrents of sand that billowed directly into our eyes, as it decided to take the latter path.

The raiders came out of nowhere - which, you have to admit, in the middle of the desert is a pretty neat trick - and quite simply caught us off guard.

The alien driving the speeder was hit first, and as it slumped, the craft wobbled and ploughed into the ground, spilling us before we could react.

I can't really say what happened next. There was a crash and I tried to roll to my feet but something must have hit me, because for the longest of moments, all I could see was...well...nothing.

Part 10: Qui-Gon

I caught the shift in our surroundings a split-second too late. How could I have missed the clamouring minds of our attackers? Then again, it did serve to prove something to me, once and for all.

My connection to the Force had become a mere formality.

I leapt clear of the speeder as it flipped over, lightsaber in hand and senses cast out to place the band of ragged creatures. I literally stumbled when I glanced to my side and found no one there.

Obi-Wan! Out went my mind again, this time focused on my apprentice. There, under the speeder. UNDER the speeder?! Yes, he was alive, but hurt! It was my fault, it had to be. Everyone I cared for, had hopes for or had promised to protect, was getting hurt.

Obi-Wan, my dear Obi-Wan, lay crushed beneath the crumpled speeder.

A wave of pain hit me. Not mine, I was too distracted to feel any pain of my own, but Obi-Wan's instead. I would be lying if I said I was in complete control of myself after that.

All I can remember is closing my eyes and not opening them again until every last one of our attackers lay dead at my feet.

Now I know what you're thinking. I gave into anger. And yes, I suppose a part of me was angry, but the rest of me was thinking very rationally. I knew the crazed band of opportunists would not give up and run away, even if they thought me a danger to them, and I had to help my padawan as quickly as I could.

Thus the quickest option was that which I took. And I took it for Obi-Wan.

Part 11: Obi-Wan

I opened my eyes to find myself in darkness, which didn't make much sense, since a moment beforehand, I had been baking beneath two particularly intense suns. Finally things cleared and I found myself staring up at the inside of the speeder.

My head hurt...to say the least...but I was soon distracted from the pain.

Oh, how can I describe this...

It was...it was... Glorious.

Somewhere beyond the metal of my unexpected roof, Qui-Gon was just sensing my predicament. And his reaction...oh, his reaction, it was more than I could ever hope.

Gathering the Force, I manoeuvred the speeder just enough so I could look out at the scene that played around me.

Mmm.

Qui-Gon was a blur of activity, the whirling glow of his saber cutting as easily through skin and bone as it did through air. His features were frozen, as if cast from stone, but determination and anger lit his face so brightly it took my breath away.

All fell at his hand, but they didn't matter. Nothing could ever matter when my master had tapped into such power. The energy crackled about him, his aura intense and beautiful, his emotions laid bare for anyone who looked in his direction.

Qui-Gon was killing them, taking their lives onto his conscience, their blood onto his hands, and he was doing so because they had hurt me. I never realised he felt this much for me, and to think! I never would have known if we hadn't been attacked...

Ah, the Force again. Intervening when it was needed, then stepping back to watch the wonder of Its creation. Perfect.

Well, I wasn't going to let this opportunity slip by, not when I had just seen the most arousing sight of my life.

Part 12: Qui-Gon

I went to him, once I could think straight again.

Trembling to hold back the power I had drawn into myself and which now threatened to rip apart anything that got in my way, I eased the craft up and off my apprentice, preparing my nerves for the sight that awaited me.

Well, to be honest, he looked fine. Fading out of consciousness, it seemed, but fine. There wasn't any blood, and everything appeared to be in the right place. I traced his body with my mind, for the first time in months having none of those thoughts along the way, but found no broken bones, no injuries, just a bump along the side of his head that was already swelling into a very nice bruise around his eye and cheekbone.

I was weak with relief. I mean really weak. I fell to my knees at his side and gathered him to my chest. Tears hovered on the verge of escaping my eyes but I couldn't let them show.

Obi-Wan was still half-conscious, blinking up at me with an unfocused gaze and opening his mouth as if to speak. I shushed him and hid my impulsive embrace behind the task of lifting him.

All right, so I was lifting him only to put him down again, but my response was automatic: I had been covering actions that would betray my feelings for some time, and the habit stuck even now.

"Master..." His voice was tremulous, sounding very much like the frightened child he had never been. I admit his true age often escapes me. Sometimes he seems wise beyond his years; his eyes tell of so much intelligence and experience. And yet other times he can act so incredibly vulnerable and innocent.

This was one of those rare times.

Gone was the twenty-five year old I knew so well, and in his place lay a trembling shade. My heart shuddered and before I could even think about it, I was pouring healing energy into his body.

He passed out then, and I fear it was because my attempt to help him had been too much for him to handle, too intense for his weakened state. With my recent history of misfortune, I would not be surprised.

Instead I sought a new tactic: to get him out of the desert and take him somewhere safe. I wanted to take him home, but that just wasn't possible until we found a ship to carry us there.

I started to work on the speeder, trying to establish if it would fly again without blowing up on us. Inside I was questioning why I ever let Obi-Wan talk me into staying on Tatooine, when we had other important matters to attend to. Yes, his interest in his family is important, but as Jedi we are expected to make sacrifices; especially when he could easily have returned to the planet at some later date. My anger was not, to be honest, directed at his request, but rather at my inability to see a bad idea for what it truly was.

I should have known this would happen. It always does! The most innocent-seeming missions have turned into life-threatening escapades and there I was thinking that nothing else could go wrong after Anakin... and Jar-Jar... Amidala... Shmi... Naboo...

...Xanatos...

There we go. The expected memory surfaces again and again. Always when it is most appropriate. Always when it is least desired. Shouldn't something I have dealt with be pushed from my mind? And why does it appear with no reason? It isn't the same situation, I'm not losing Obi-Wan to the Dark. Xanatos' fall isn't related to this at all.

Perhaps it was just the thought of losing him, full stop, no matter which way it happened. Obi-Wan's death would, I am sure, be a signal for my own passage into the Force.

At least we would be together there.

Right... I got the speeder running, settled Obi-Wan in and reluctantly asked the Force for a direction. I guess it must have given me some hint, because soon we encountered rock, rather than the endless reams of sand we had previously been surrounded by. Logically it meant we were leaving the Dune Sea, I just hoped it also meant we were nearing civilisation.

Perhaps there should be an extra line in the Code. Perhaps there already is, unwritten, but clear and proven time and time again.

There is no hope; there is the truth.

Well...as much as I hoped we would make it, the truth of the matter is that the speeder was not in good form. We didn't get far into the crevices and ravines before it gave up completely.

There wasn't much I could do after that; night was falling and we needed shelter. I glanced at Obi-Wan, pained to see his face so pale and empty. Even when he slept, emotions chased themselves across his features, and believe me, I've watched him sleep enough times to know that, but now, now there wasn't anything there.

Nothing.

Part 13: Obi-Wan

So it started out as pretending, but sometime after he lifted me into the speeder my feigned unconsciousness led to a certain amount of aimless drifting within my mind.

I decided that I liked very much seeing Qui-Gon's face beneath me. I decided I would have to make it occur more often. Then I realised he was actually above me, and my entire fantasy went out the window.

Still, I could be patient. Especially when I had this big ball of blue to float around in while I waited. Yeah, I don't know what it was either, it was just blue. Light blue. I would say like Qui-Gon's eyes, but his are darker than that. Maybe it was Qui-Gon's eyes, only I had fallen into them somehow and behind the midnight there was this pale noon.

I was happy to swim in his eyes, detached from my unsteady body and dreaming about seeing him beneath me, writhing with need and desire, pleading with me to take him and then I thrust, thrust and impale him in a single stroke and drive him wild with my love and then we come, together and high, floating in the pale blue of his eyes that hides beyond the dark of his denial.

I don't know what broke me from my dream, but when I woke the blue was marred by shadows and grey beings that stood absolutely still. Force, to have their patience and skill! I would be the envy of all padawans if I could stand as still as them! Nothing could shake them, I saw that right away. They could stand like that until the end of the universe and even then go on, and on, and on, like...like rocks in the desert.

Oh.

The rest of my mind pretty much woke up at that point. One side of my face was numb, my head pounded with annoying persistence. Moving didn't seem like a good idea, not when I felt like I was going to fall over, even though I was still lying down... I took the time to find out what was going on around me, reaching out with pain-tinted tendrils of the Force to locate my master.

He was away from my side, cutting at a crack in the rock, his head full of thoughts about shelter and protection, and me. Me!

He was obviously starting to have second thoughts about what he had done for me. I could sense the earlier deaths around him, clinging to him in unrecognised guilt, threatening to dig into his mind and drive him mad with remorse. But he did it out of love for me. What could be wrong with doing something out of love?

The plan that had come to me as I lay beneath the upturned speeder began to surface again. If Master thought I was injured and suffering from a blow to the head, I had total freedom to do anything I wanted. Anything at all.

Qui-Gon wouldn't be able to deny me a thing in that state. Okay, so he wasn't likely to deny me in any other state, but there was always the chance that he might go all moral and Jedi Master on me at the last moment. This way I had no worries.

The concern for me that had driven all his ingrained calm and restraint away was sure to work to my advantage. He was meant for me, made for me. He could never say no to me.

And once I had him, once he had taken me within his body and declared his love for me, I would have him.

Part 14: Qui-Gon

Obi-Wan was just stirring as I returned to collect him, which triggered another burst of relief. They were getting to be quite habitual, I noticed.

His face was no longer as blank, no longer as pale and his lashes fluttered apart to reveal at least partially focused eyes. When I looked at him closely, he smiled suddenly, banishing the shadows that fell across his features, bringing a similar response to my own lips.

He tried to speak, but I hushed him again, asking if he thought he could walk. He nodded and smiled again. He probably didn't really think he could, but my padawan has never been one to complain about trivial things. Well, things he sees as trivial.

Helping him to his feet, I was glad, in an obscure way, to feel him lean on me, rather than him trying to walk by himself.

When we were finally settled in our impromptu lodgings, I decided to try once more to heal Obi-Wan, this time restraining myself so as not to push him into unconsciousness again. I began to gently weave a curative blanket of the Force around him, watching him carefully where he lay beside me.

Before I could really get anywhere, he rolled to his side and rested his cheek on my thigh. The action broke my concentration, to say the least. Concern and worry about his health suddenly seemed unimportant. All I could think about was that fact that the man I...cared for...was nestled against me, so near, so...near...

It was because of the blow to his head, I told myself. Of course it was.

My hand moved as if of it's own accord and brushed over his short spikes, trailing down to his braid and twisting it about my fingers. A part of me was horrified by what I was doing, but I couldn't stop. It felt so good to be able to touch him, to imagine he was letting me do it because he felt the same way, to imagine holding onto the slender braid as we made love, moving as one, togeth-

"Thank you, Master."

The words were so quiet, so soft, and for a moment I thought I had imagined them. But then those beautiful grey eyes appeared before me, bright with emotion and, dare I hope, love.

I froze at the sight, lost in a world of fantasy and desire, completely oblivious to the implications of him leaning closer to me.

Feather-soft lips brushed my own, and I pulled back in surprise, staring in astonishment at my apprentice.

Part 15: Obi-Wan

I...

He....

I...

.....

I know he wanted it, so where was the problem?

I looked at him, shocked by his response. He might have hesitated, sure, I could understand that, but to pull away and act as if what I'd done disgusted him...well, it wasn't what I expected.

Could it be that I was wrong? That the Force was wrong to tell me that he loved me? No. No, it was Qui-Gon. Jedi Master mode had kicked in before we could get anywhere, that was all.

That was all.

So, disastrous first kiss, yes. What more is there to say? I kissed him, he pulled back. I had no other choice but to feign confusion at what had happened. Play innocent and use the surprise that had to be clear on my face. Make it seem as if I didn't know what I had done.

It didn't take much to convince Qui-Gon, he probably wanted to believe it was all a mistake. No, he didn't want to, but his Jedi sensibilities were telling him that it had to be so.

He clearly just needed a little time to consider that I wanted him, then the next time he wouldn't be so surprised.

And next time, he won't push me away.

Part 16: Qui-Gon

Obi-Wan looked about as shocked as I felt. Relief battled with disappointment for my attention. Did he look like that because I had reacted so badly, or because he hadn't realised what he was doing?

Which answer did I want to hear?

This wasn't right. Not the whole Master-shouldn't-sleep-with-Padawan issue, I mean Obi-Wan's behaviour. It wasn't like him.

But then, was any of this normal?

How could I try to judge normality when so much around me seemed out of place? It felt as if someone had changed the rules on me one night while I was sleeping and I'd woken in a different galaxy.

The silence dragged on, uncomfortable and awkward. Obi-Wan had long averted his eyes from mine, but I could still see the confusion in his face. The boy was wounded. He needed to heal, to meditate, to realise that he could never want someone like me. If he'd even thought about what he was doing. It had probably been a simple misunderstanding, an attempt to show his gratitude that had somehow seemed right at the time.

What else could it be?

I didn't want to get my hopes up by considering the possibilities.

Collecting myself with a great effort, I made the decision not to force him to talk about what had happened. It could wait until later, until we were home. Until he was himself again.

"Try to get some rest," I told him, keeping my tone gentle - which was an effort, considering how shaken I was inside.

.....

I couldn't sleep.

I was tired. My body was weak and my mind twisted in fatigued circles, but I could not sleep.

Obi-Wan lay by my side once more. He had fallen asleep instantly, having first placed himself a respectful few inches away, but for the second night in a row, he moved in his sleep to touch me.

It wasn't as awkward as the last time. He didn't drape himself across my body and nuzzle me through until morning. Instead, all I felt was the soft tug as his fingers blindly found a corner of my tunic and clenched the material tightly into his hand, behaving very much like a scared initiate on his first trip out of the Temple.

I was still disturbed by what he had done earlier, and yet there seemed to be no reason to feel that way. Perhaps it was just such a surprise to me. For the past few months I had been focusing so intently on my impending solitude and my belief that he could never love me as a man rather than a master, so to suddenly be presented with the possibility that he did care...

It astounded me.

There wasn't really much I could do about it, not then, not while Obi-Wan was behaving so strangely. And yet, try as I might, I still couldn't sleep.

My mind drifted aimlessly, reviewing for the thousandth time all that had happened since we'd been assigned to the trade dispute concerning Naboo.

Familiar, and depressing, scenes played over behind my eyelids, on and on, darkening my mood until I felt almost listless with regret.

And then I was forced to cease my self-inflicted reverie, as I came upon a memory I did not recognise.

Possibly because it was one of anger.

Now, irritation I've done. Impatience, annoyance, exasperation. But never anger. Anger that took control of my limbs and pushed aside my mind until it was done using my body to...to...

Kill.

To kill in anger.

Not in self-defence, not in protection of another - yes, Obi-Wan was injured, but he was safe from the attackers - not out of any acceptable reason.

I glanced down at my padawan again, troubled by the frown that now creased his forehead and the way he clung tighter to my clothing.

I had unnecessary blood on my hands. I had lost control and killed in anger. For Obi-Wan.

They could have been easily scared off, spooked into running to safety, alive to see a new day, perhaps even to change their ways and start a new life.

Faces of strangers appeared unbidden in my head. When I closed my eyes the scene replayed, ended and began again, eternally, clenching my heart in the cold grip of fear and sorrow.

Eyes open again, but now sounds. Pitiful moans of the dying, whimpers pleading for redemption and mercy and then silence. Silence. The silence of death, brought down upon the lost souls by an unforgiving weapon swung by my own hands.

I looked at them, unsurprised to find they seemed different, almost detached from my being. These weren't the hands of a Jedi Master. They were the hands of a murderer.

And then there was need. A strange need, but still strong and demanding. I needed to see my victims. I needed to look at their faces, into their eyes. I should bury them, burn them, release them into the Force. They deserved a far greater fate then to become the food of scavengers, facedown and exposed to the harsh sun of day, the cold dark of night.

It was I who deserved that end.

Part 17: Obi-Wan

My dreams were wonderful that night. Blissful. The golden sparkle of promise whispered through them all, lighting the way for a future that consisted of only myself and Qui-Gon.

He was warming to the idea of my desire. I could sense it as I slept. My dreams reflected his emotions and only good thoughts could have produced what I saw that night.

When I woke, things were different. In a positive way. It was as if I'd lost a piece of myself at some point in my life and only just rediscovered it in those first waking moments. A new sensation was joining itself to my being: I could almost feel the individual tendrils as they found the ragged ends of my soul and bound themselves to new partners.

In place of my uneasy peace there appeared a work of art that filled my head with light and lifted my heart to impossible heights. Smooth, silken strands of energy wove an intricate bond, beautiful in its strength and texture. In its binding of myself to another.

As I stretched in contentment, I became aware of Qui-Gon's absence. Well, physically anyway. In my mind hummed our new bond, alive at last with the simple alignment of our emotions. I knew he would come around after a night's consideration.

Now all that remained was a mere formality. I already had him, after all, firmly secured in my soul.

Outside, I was surprised to find the suns weren't even up yet. Puddles of shade lingered on the ground, slowly fading with the lightening sky, but refusing to vanish until the deadly rays of the two bright stars passed across them.

The air was already thick and cloying, and yet nothing could bother me that morning. For the first time in my life, I felt whole. Content. Complete.

I spotted Master some distance away, climbing unsteadily across the rocks and distinctly heading in the wrong direction. I don't know where he thought he was going, but it wasn't towards me, and that had to be amended.

I called out, even though he was too far away to hear. I would have run after him, but that made my vision swim, so I had to settle instead for walking fast. Three more times I called out, even using his name on the third try in order to get his attention.

No response.

As I stepped around him and halted his progress, I became aware of his posture: slumped and weary, as if carrying a burden that only he could sense. This was not my master. I don't know what was wrong with him; I mean, he was finally tied to me, flooded with the light of my soul, just as he had desired for so long. There should only be happiness in his eyes, not exhaustion. Which, incidentally did not concur with the glowing bond that sang between us. How could he look that way at the same time as experiencing such ecstasy?

"Master." He looked at me with uncertain eyes, then moved to walk around me. Surprised, I intercepted him again, catching his arms and turning him back towards the rocky face where we had spent the night. "Come back inside. You don't look well."

"Obi-Wan?" he asked in an unsteady voice. His eyes focused on me, full of sorrow, and he lifted a hand to trace my bruised cheekbone with his fingertips. "Those raiders...they...they..."

"Shh, Master. They've gone now, they can't hurt me anymore." So that was why he hadn't woken me to declare his undying love for me. He had succumbed to the guilt of the attackers' deaths, allowed the shame to taint our wonderful connection. Knowing Qui-Gon, he'd probably even let his concern for me feed the remorse. Whatever the details were, it meant he was now confused and unable to direct his attention to the most pressing matter.

Us.

"I need..." he began, his voice dazed and hesitant. "I need to..."

"Yes, Qui-Gon. I'll make it all better." All right, so I was getting a little impatient with all the distractions he'd managed to create when we had something of great importance to deal with. What's a bit of impatience? No one ever said I was perfect.

The expression that crossed his face was one of complete bewilderment. It took me a while to work out that my words had surprised him. Or rather my familiarity with his name and the tone in which I'd used it. Oh well, he was yielding to my gentle tugs and following me back over the uneven ground, that was all that mattered.

It was slightly cooler in the saber-cut shelter, but I helped Master out of his cloak and outer tunic before pushing him down to sit on the floor. A brief rummage in our packs revealed a rather meagre amount of water remaining, and I had to give it all to Qui-Gon, in case it was the heat doing this to him, rather than simple guilt.

He was glancing uneasily at the entrance, perhaps planning to try and leave again. Surely Jedi Masters shouldn't be this easily confused...

I knelt before him, effectively drawing his gaze to me and cementing it there. The deep blue eyes lacked their usual vibrance, and moreover, appeared weak and defeated.

Yeah, this was definitely guilt, not just a case of too much sun.

In that instant I came to an important decision. Since I'd begun to understand my feelings for Qui-Gon, I had been under the impression that he should come to me. He was to be mine; my reward, my prize, so really, he should offer himself to me, rather than I offer myself to him.

But why did anyone have to do the offering? I'd already made the first move with that kiss, so why not just keep going? There wasn't any great need to talk about the whole thing first.

Not now we have this new bond between us.

Part 18: Qui-Gon

Death probably isn't all that bad. You don't have to live anymore: that has to be a plus. Perhaps we're envious of the dead. That's why we revere them so - give them grand send-offs and sigh over their memories for months after they've gone.

I don't suppose I'll ever know. Not until I'm dead myself, that is.

I'm not sure how to take that line in the Code. There is no death, there is the Force. Technically 'death' could just be an easy way to explain what happens when someone passes into the Force. It's a rather pointless line if you look at things that way.

The Council would have a collective apoplexy if they heard that kind of talk. Question one line of the Code and you might as well question the whole lot. Still, they've always labelled me a rebel, so I might as well live up to it.

Even more so, with what was happening between my Padawan and I.

I don't know if I'd rather know about these things before they happen or not. Perhaps I could deal with it better if I knew what was coming. Then again, perhaps it's better to live in the moment and let instinct carry me through. I just don't know.

I felt something come alive between my padawan and I that night. At first I was convinced all my dreams and hopes had come to light and a true bond of mutual love had appeared. Naturally, I was wrong.

Just as they had permeated the rest of my thoughts that evening, the faces of my victims appeared once more before me and began to point out some pretty harsh truths. At great length too.

My mind must have shied away from the issue again, because the next thing I knew, it was morning and Obi-Wan was awake, kneeling before me and staring at me with such an intent gaze that I had to wonder just what he was thinking about.

Or, in fact, what I had done...

Whatever it was, it had involved the removal of my cloak and tunic.

Obi-Wan smiled suddenly, a heart-felt grin that lit his face with honest emotion. And yet, for some reason, the action sent a wave of pain through my body. The bond - bonds I should say, training and this new, unusual bond - in my head reverberated with something that made me distinctly uneasy.

My vision hazed and my body numbed briefly, and when it had passed, I found myself with a lapful of padawan who was eagerly trying to invade my mouth with his tongue.

And it felt so right to open up and let him in.

Part 19

Lips crushed together in sudden and desperate need, surprising even Obi-Wan in its intensity. However, the young Jedi took little time to study the sensation, focusing instead on the taste of Qui-Gon on his lips, his tongue consuming the other's mouth.

But a kiss - even one gladly returned - was not enough for him, and he was soon pulling off his master's clothes with no decorum whatsoever; his fingernails leaving thin trails in their rough passage.

Qui-Gon, through all this, was too stunned to think, or even respond very well. He willingly leaned in to return Obi-Wan's kiss, but when the youth pulled away and turned his attention to other areas of the older man's body, Qui-Gon found himself unable to move.

Before long he was on his back, naked and twisting beneath Obi-Wan's eager mouth. Steadily, his mind began to fill with the tainted light from their curious, and indefinable, bond; slowly enough for him to sense it, but too quickly for him to gather his strength and stop the invasion.

Obi-Wan, unaware, or unconcerned by the consuming 'light' that emanated from the strange bond, continued his ministrations, lost to the task of marking his master's skin in as many places as he could.

Across Qui-Gon's chest he built up a tapestry of teeth marks and love bites. The more intricate patterns were formed by his none-too-gentle nails. Each touch left evidence of its passing, and the sight of his master prone and temporarily tattooed by his every caress had Obi-Wan fairly fighting to hold himself back.

Breathing hard, he sat back on his heels, lustful eyes half-closed and tongue darting out to lick his lips. For an eternity he paused, raking his gaze over Qui-Gon's body, committing the details to memory and very deliberately waiting for the older man to ask for further contact.

"Obi-Wan..." Qui-Gon growled quietly, his eyes pleading with his apprentice, his erection standing out between them, dark and weeping and aching to be attended to. "Please."

Obi-Wan hid his grin of triumph and slowly, so slowly, undressed himself, luxuriating in the needy weight of his master's gaze and preening with his obvious control over the other man.

When he, too, was naked, Obi-Wan leaned forward, briefly caressing a hip as he crawled up Qui-Gon to claim another kiss.

Obi-Wan was like pure energy against his master's mouth, taking quick teasing nips, then settling in to suck at the older man's lower lip.

Qui-Gon twisted his head, trying to bring his mouth to the one tormenting him, but his padawan deflected each attempt: running his tongue across Qui-Gon's lip before ducking out of reach and focusing on an earlobe.

And then the youth brought their erections together, grinding his hips down into Qui-Gon's, forcing a groan out of his master.

Qui-Gon seemed to come alive at the contact, hands surging up and grasping at the younger man's waist, trying to pull him closer, but Obi-Wan deftly disentangled himself and looked down at his master with faint reproach in his eyes.

"Turn over," he commanded, suddenly very much aware that he had to take control of the situation, lest Qui-Gon fall back into his accustomed role as 'master' and try to reverse their positions. In his mind, the youth could think only of Qui-Gon as his prize. A possession to be taken at his will.

All that remained was to make sure that Qui-Gon knew his place.

As the thoughts and images flashed through his head, Obi-Wan reached out instinctively to the Force, easing subtle suggestions into Qui-Gon's mind, encouraging him to remember all the dreams he had ever dreamt about this moment. With such memories in his head, he would co-operate with Obi-Wan...at least long enough until it was too late to turn back, to realise what was happening and to try and stop it.

Had he possessed the power, it would have been no effort at all to directly influence Qui-Gon, but his attempts would be quashed the second he tried to initiate them. No, he was going to have to weaken Qui-Gon further, before he could really own what he rightly deserved.

The Jedi Master, now misty-eyed and bemused by how real his fantasy felt, rolled over obediently onto his hands and knees, then crossed his arms on the rock and rested his head on them.

Obi-Wan placed a discarded robe on the ground and knelt on it, oblivious to the notion that Qui-Gon might also need such comfort against the rocky ground. With a steady hand, he stroked down the older man's spine and into the inviting cleft directly before him.

"I'm going to take you, Qui-Gon," he confided happily. "You will be mine in body, mind and soul."

The Force hummed around them, which Obi-Wan blindly took as encouragement, but the sensation was one of unease, not support.

Still happily distracted by his daydream, Qui-Gon paid no attention at all to the shift in the air.

Obi-Wan hesitated briefly, wondering suddenly about lubrication and preparation, but with his cock throbbing impatiently for contact, the thought vanished and instead he simply pushed forward and began his determined penetration.

Qui-Gon cried out at the sudden intrusion, his head lifting and his hips instinctively moving away from the cause of the pain. Obi-Wan gripped him tightly, holding him still, pushing in further.

"Let me in and you'll feel better," he promised, through gritted teeth. The pain worked both ways, although his was undoubtedly easier to bear. Beneath him, Qui-Gon's breath had become ragged and shallow. His head dropped and he tried to use the Force to ease Obi-Wan's entry, but his attempt was crushed as his apprentice thrust hard into him, sheathing himself to the root with a satisfied grunt.

"Obi-Wan...I...can't..." And he couldn't. All the faint control Obi-Wan had managed to gain over Qui-Gon slipped away with his words and in an enlightened moment, he realised how wrong the situation was, how wrong it all felt.

And yet, Obi-Wan was quicker, empowered by his progress and Qui-Gon's vulnerable state. He skilfully twisted invisible bonds around his master's limbs, smothering Qui-Gon's mind with the full strength of his influence. His confidence, and consequent success, was given life purely because of the Jedi Master's shock.

And his betrayed heart.

"Shh, Master. Don't worry. Open up for me, let me in."

Obi-Wan smile wryly at his own tone, his automatic reassurance.

So with that thought, he began to thrust rhythmically, fingers keeping a bruising grip on Qui-Gon's hips to hold him steady.

"You are mine, Qui-Gon. You belong to me." Obi-Wan's tone was one of conviction, he had no fear of his words being wrong, or his actions being against the Code. All thoughts of the Order he had spent his life training to serve were forgotten, lost in the growing power he held within his body; the power he held over Qui-Gon.

"No..."

The word came out on a breath, but even had he shouted it, Qui-Gon would never have been loud enough for Obi-Wan to hear. The pain bled through him, physical and mental anguish consuming his mind, his focus, his entire being. His body was held by the weight of domination, tied down with flimsy strands that he should have easily thrown off, and yet they remained, holding him prisoner to the one person he would never believe capable of hurting him.

He had no energy to fight back, to try and stop Obi-Wan's violent thrusts.

And he realised, as his apprentice hammered into him, that it was violence. There was no love in the youth's actions.

There was only possession.

"Let. Me. In. Master," Obi-Wan ordered, his words no longer asked or attempted to comfort, they were laced with energy, raw power. With darkness.

He sent out a probe, testing the strength of his master's shields, trying to reach in along the two bonds they now held to each other. The new tie he had so recently forced upon Qui-Gon's weakened mental state glowed with hunger, and yet it remained unsatisfied. The Jedi was still fighting back against the efforts to reach into his mind. He might not be very successful, but it was enough to keep Obi-Wan from his goal.

Reaching one hand down to grasp Qui-Gon's flagging erection, Obi-Wan repeated his command, punctuating it with a squeeze of his master's cock.

Qui-Gon bit back another yelp of pain, but he knew he was draining quickly. Every nerve in his body screamed against the abuse. The Force, so distant and unwilling to help, projected the mistake that was their joining, although it would not interfere without Qui-Gon's direction.

And he lacked the strength to give it.

"Let. Me. IN."

Obi-Wan's hand tightened again, and it was too much...too much for Qui-Gon to endure any longer.

With the abruptness of snapping bone, his shields crumbled. Not gradually, but in an instant, a heartbeat. Then Obi-Wan was there, claiming it all as his own, revelling in the flood of Qui-Gon's being and trying to take it all into himself.

The power of the moment triggered his orgasm, his hot seed filling Qui-Gon and his exultant cry so loud it reverberated even in Qui-Gon's head. Obi-Wan's pleasure flooded out from his body, unconsciously forcing Qui-Gon into his own reluctant release.

The master's pained sob made a marked contrast to the apprentice's gleeful shout.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the frozen tableaux of submission and domination wilted, the two figures breaking apart and falling to the ground, well away from each other.

Both were shaking and breathless, their thoughts twisted and stained by their actions and the darkness that had seeped into their minds sometime during their mission.

They passed out, weak and empty.

Broken.

Part 20: Epilogue

Bejah Fer Dr'uuch was a Mind Healer. In fact, she was the most talented and adored Mind Healer the Order had seen in centuries. Her dedication was commendable and had never once wavered, despite all the terrible cases she had seen over the years.

Until now.

As she stood over the sleeping form of Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn, she suddenly felt as if she'd met her match.

The tall man's bed was lined up with the large window, to provide something to look at when he was awake. The early afternoon sun streamed in through gauzy curtains that fluttered gently in a weak breeze and tumbled across Qui-Gon's face, banishing some of the pallor from his skin, but not all.

His features were smooth and relaxed, his hair arrayed out across the white pillow beneath his head. His breath was steady and strong, and were an uninformed person to look upon him, they would be forgiven if they guessed he was at peace with the universe.

Bejah knew differently.

A constant reminder raged behind the shields she had constructed to protect his exposed and vulnerable mind from any sensitive passers-by; the memories of his time on Tatooine repeating as though in a feedback loop of agony and heartbreak.

Bejah had experienced everything. She was deep in his mind for many hours of the day, such were the demands of being a Mind Healer, and thus she probably knew Qui-Gon as well as he knew himself.

Bejah idly smoothed the plain sheets covering her patient. She felt the pain of this man. He had not been hurt many times during his life, but the incidents in which he had suffered had been horrendous.

Among the worst, of course, were the fall of one apprentice, and the breakdown of another.

The door to the room opened to admit her assistant, former apprentice and newly promoted secondary Mind Healer. The young girl was very much like Bejah herself - in ability, personality and appearance. As a result, the older woman often wondered if Taliana was the baby she had passed onto the crèche masters all those years ago.

Before she could drift into the world of possibility and regret for not keeping a closer eye on her child's progress, Bejah raised a questioning eyebrow at the young girl. Taliana shook her head sadly.

She had taken her master's role as Obi-Wan Kenobi's mind-shield and personal Healer. Mostly it was to give both men constant attention all day, but also as a necessity. When Bejah had tried to hold both their mental presences together in her mind - as she had done in the past with injured teams - hostile and fearful emotion had almost flooded herself and the two men.

Bejah still didn't quite approve of her young assistant taking on such a difficult task so soon after her elevation in status, especially when Obi-Wan's mind was so twisted with anxiety and gloom. As Tali adroitly pointed out, however, she needed the experience and Bejah needed the help.

Before either of the Mind Healers could speak, the door opened again and the Masters Yoda and Windu joined the women around Qui-Gon's bed.

"Did it take long to calm him?" Mace asked quietly as he glanced down at the sleeping Jedi Master.

"No time at all," Bejah told him. "He slipped into a sort of daze just after you left and from there I was able to make him sleep."

She lifted her brown eyes to meet the Council Member's. "Obi-Wan, on the other hand, has not stopped trying to destroy everything in his room."

"He is angry with himself," Taliana informed the group with a sigh. "But he doesn't know why he feels that way. After he finished his story, and I stopped coaxing him into the memories, he simply repressed them again. Almost instantly." She dipped her head in disappointment. "He will not believe them."

"And Qui-Gon? Does he believe them?"

"I'm afraid so." Bejah passed a weary hand across her face, then folded her arms. "It is better that he does," she added, noting the councillor's expression. "But he is so sad. He was manipulated by Xanatos, and sees his own weakness as the main factor in the boy's fall. With Obi-Wan however... With Obi-Wan it was love. Pure and simple. Oh, he didn't want to admit it, even to himself, but he couldn't deny the feelings. He dreamed of Obi-Wan coming to him with the same secret."

Bejah hesitated, momentarily distracted by the memories of her patient. "On Tatooine, Qui-Gon believed there was something wrong. The Force had told him certain things, but those things never happened. He thought his connection had distorted somehow. Later, when they were attacked, he lost control. His doubt about his connection, and then his guilt over killing unnecessarily, and then his concern over Obi-Wan's injury... It all collected together and weakened his mind."

"And then Obi-Wan's determination forced a new bond to form between them," Tali continued solemnly. "He didn't know he was doing it, but then he didn't really know he was doing any of it. His fear of losing his master took over his mind, and everything from that point on was directed by his delusion. His obsession."

"The bond served to weaken Qui-Gon further. Through it, Obi-Wan was able to stir his master's feelings of love, convincing Qui-Gon that it was right for them to touch, to kiss, to make love." Bejah closed her eyes, recalling the joy that had filled the Jedi Master's heart at the prospect of being with his apprentice.

"But it wasn't love. You saw how they each reacted as we neared those particular memories. Obi-Wan's mind was so warped by then, he thought he'd done the Force a great favour and Qui-Gon was going to be a reward for his success. Qui-Gon..." Taliana glanced up at her master for confirmation. "Qui-Gon was simply too weak to stop him."

Mace stood silent and motionless, absorbing the two Healers' words. "Is there any possibility that some of the things they said were wrong? Perhaps they imagined half of the things they claimed happened," he asked finally.

"No. I'm afraid not. Tali and I have been there with them. We lived it through their eyes and minds and everything they told you was correct. Obi-Wan's fear consumed him and he became obsessed to the point of turning to the Dark. You can't just imagine something like that."

"What kept him from turning?"

"When they climaxed together, their minds joined. Well, to be more precise, Obi-Wan pulled Qui-Gon's into his. The shattering of Qui-Gon's shields and his mental breakdown was apparently enough to destroy Obi-Wan's unsteady grip on reality, and disperse his power. In joining, Obi-Wan was pushed away from the edge of darkness." Bejah looked sadly down at Qui-Gon's expressionless face. "I don't think he would see it as saving his student, however."

Silence fell in the room as each examined their own thoughts of what might have happened if either man hadn't burnt out at that exact moment.

Yoda, who'd remained quiet since entering the room, had settled himself in a nearby chair and listened intently to the conversation. Now he eyed Bejah with a question. "Troubled, you are."

The Mind Healer nodded without any sign of surprise at the small Master's observation. "We know what happened, but we only know why it happened to a certain extent. Yes, Obi-Wan was driven by fear of losing Qui-Gon, and Qui-Gon was susceptible to influence because of his doubts. What we don't know is why they suddenly woke up one day as different people."

Taliana settled a hand on Bejah's forearm in silent support. "We can allow for the Force changing, for visions and the such, but one detail troubles us more than all the others."

"Obi-Wan claimed not to have felt this kind of desire or love for his master prior to his premonition," Bejah reminded the two councillors. "Not once during this incident did he feel real love. At certain points he believed he was doing it out of love for Qui-Gon, and used the excuse readily, but as Taliana can attest, he didn't truly feel anything beyond the affection a student has for his teacher. Were love behind all of this, then we would have no trouble in linking everything together."

"But love wasn't behind it."

"And so we have to wonder what power managed to influence the boy so much that it effectively erased his free will."

Masters Yoda and Mace Windu exchanged a long glance.

"Will they recover?" Mace asked at last, looking down and absently brushing a hair from Qui-Gon's forehead. He rested his palm against the sleeping man's skin as if to try and sense the answer for himself.

Bejah glanced at Taliana. "To be honest, Mace, we don't believe we should have forced them to remember so soon. I know the Council needed the story, but..." She waved a hand at Qui-Gon as evidence. "The mind is such a fragile thing, and to relive something like that, not just remember it, can do a great deal of damage if the person isn't prepared. I'm afraid we might have misjudged just how deep this goes."

"Will they recover?" Windu asked again, unwilling to accept her answer.

"It's difficult to say. The trauma they suffered was immense. They could probably regain enough sensibility to look after themselves, after a long time in therapy of course, but I don't know if they will ever be the same people they were before."

"Will they recover?" Mace asked for a third time, dark eyes focusing intently on the Mind Healer's face.

After a mournful silence, Bejah Fer Dr'uuch reluctantly answered him.

"If they do, they will have to live each day with the memories. For now they are safe within their denial. Would you want to recover from that?"

Silence settled across the pensive group again. After a while, the councillors bid farewell and departed to report to the rest of the Council, leaving the Mind Healers alone to watch over the two traumatized Jedi.

Taliana turned to her former master, after the councillors had left. "Will they?" she asked quietly, hesitantly.

Bejah simply avoided her eyes and didn't answer.

The End.