Disclaimer: Features some violence (not graphically described, but still), and two males sleeping together, and not in a platonic way. If you can’t deal, don’t keep reading.
I can’t even pretend to own the characters or concepts behind Star Wars in any of its various incarnations. And they aren’t yet in the public domain, although they should be, dammit! So, all hail to George Lucas and LucasArts and Skywalker Studios and you all know who you are. And just in case anyone’s confused, here's where real Star Wars stuff can be found.
“But that’s not what you said,” snarled Obi-Wan again. He was starting to lose patience with his teacher, and most of all, with himself. How could he have fallen for such a foolish trick? He was ashamed of himself, and irritated with his teacher for leading him on that way.
“I know,” said Qui-Gon in his most placid voice, trying to calm his young student. He looked out at the sun, barely visible through the nest of clouds surrounding the floating city. “We should get some food before the rains start.”
Obi-Wan shrugged in despair. Maybe he wasn’t meant to be a Jedi Knight. “N’Kata’Jala promised to hold a place for us.” He started gathering the remains of his lightsaber. It would take all night to repair the damage, and if he didn’t get any food on top of his growing lack of sleep, he was eventually going to make a more serious mistake than the one he had made today.
“Let us go there, then.” Qui-Gon helped him gather up their supplies, and they started walking back to the center of the city. They walked in familiar, companionable silence for a little while. “Once there was a little boy,” said the Master suddenly, surprising Obi-Wan out of his gloomy contemplations. “His father had promised him something wonderful for his birth-celebration.” The Master paused in his story while they were scanned by the gatekeeper ‘droids, and admitted back into the city. “Finally, the day came, and the little boy carefully opened the package to reveal a large, grey rock.”
Obi-Wan stared at his Master, for a second, trying to decide if that were the end of the story or not. But Qui-Gon said no more, and they entered N’Kata’Jala’s hostel to get their midday meal. Actually, given the state of the planet’s agricultural systems, it was more likely than not going to be their only meal. Obi-Wan ate in stunned silence, trying to figure out the point of his Master’s story, if indeed there was one. Qui-Gon let him wander in his thoughts.
The rains started, a thick caustic veil that drove the surface dwellers to their underground caves and trapped the people in the floating city in whatever shelter they could find. Obi-Wan gazed morosely out at the rain, and went up to his room to start fixing his lightsaber. Qui-Gon settled their account for the day, and then followed him upstairs.
Qui-Gon watched his student struggle with the shattered components of his weapon, trying to salvage what he could. He took his own weapon from his belt, cracked open the case and lay it down in front of Obi-Wan. “The little boy took his rock down to the stream that ran behind his home,” Qui-Gon continued as if he’d never stopped telling the story. While he spoke, his skilled fingers were helping to arrange the pieces of the two lightsabers, to make them both functional. “He placed the rock beneath the waterfall at the end of the stream, and every year, he watched as the water leached out the stone grey, and wore away the harsh edges of the rock.”
Obi-Wan set the final module into place, and activated his lightsaber. He made a speculative riposte, testing the feel in his head and his hand. “The resonance is off, but it’s serviceable.” He looked up at his teacher, who was smiling in satisfaction.
“You are learning your weapon,” he smiled. “Indeed, you will need a new cycling element. We can get one tomorrow. Sleep now.”
Obi-Wan fought down the urge to roll his eyes in despair. He knew there was more to the story, but he was too tired and worn to try and get it out of his teacher. He went to his pallet, and lay down while Qui-Gon arranged himself for an hour or so of mediation. Obi-Wan didn’t fall asleep immediately. He lay, half-awake, and watched his Master in the dim light of their shared room. Obi-Wan envied his Master’s serenity. He didn’t think he would ever achieve that level of unity with the Force.
Obi-Wan turned away, and thought about the future. Was he really meant to be a Jedi? It wasn’t too late to return to his old life. Qui-Gon, of all people, would certainly understand if he chose to abandon the path. Better that than going too far, and falling prey to the Darkness that hunted every Jedi. If he gave up now, his weaknesses - his impatience, his anger, his frustrations - would no longer be a danger to himself and those around him.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes. And if he left, Qui-Gon would find another student, someone more worthy of his attention and more receptive to his training. He would never see his Master again - indeed, he would no longer be his Master. He would be just another Jedi, and Obi-Wan would be plain old Ben Kenobi again. He heard Qui-Gon approach the sleeping pallets, and sensed that he had already turned off the lights. Qui-Gon knelt down next to him, and laid a hand on his shoulder. Obi-Wan felt his Master assessing him, with both his eyes and his spirit.
“Sleep,” said Qui-Gon gently, and began stroking Obi-Wan’s back. The feel of his Master’s strong hands on his body immediately relaxed him. At the same time, it frightened and disturbed the young man, who had only recently realized that he was starting to feel more for his Master than was strictly proper. But he accepted that his Master was only worried for his well-being, and allowed himself the pointless pleasure of his touch. His worries faded away under the gentle massage, and he slowly fell into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.
Obi-Wan woke to find himself comfortably nestled in his Master’s arms. Qui-Gon must have moved the pallets closer together before falling asleep. He was still sleeping; Qui-Gon was used to days and nights longer than Standard Time. Obi-Wan sat up carefully, trying to untangle himself from Qui-Gon’s embrace without waking him.
Obi-Wan went downstairs to see about food to start the day, and to arrange a midday meal if possible. N’Kata’Jala beamed with happiness from all four of her luminous eyes as she told the young Jedi that she had managed to secure enough food to feed them for the next two days. Her ‘smile’ was infectious, and Obi-Wan returned to their quarters more cheerful than he’d been for some time.
He walked into the room, carefully balancing the tray of breakfast food in one hand while he held the jug of water and opened the door with the other. The smell of fresh waybread roused Qui-Gon, and his first movement was to reach out to the warmth where Obi-Wan had lay. Finding nothing, he stroked the empty space regretfully before opening his eyes.
Obi-Wan nearly dropped the tray, and barely managed to catch the jug before it spilled any of the precious water. He turned away and set the tray down. “Good morning,” he said quickly.
Qui-Gon sat up slowly. He had left his homeworld a long time ago, but his body still preferred his native thirty-six hour day to the Standard one. Sometimes it served him well, but today, he sensed that he was going to be very slow. “Good morning.” Qui-Gon carefully rose to his feet, and Obi-Wan handed him a glass of water which he accepted gratefully.
“Telloo has some spare parts. We could check there for a new cycling element before we start.”
Qui-Gon shook his head. “No lessons today, Obi-Wan. The rains will be starting two hours earlier today, so we will not have enough time to go out to the preserves.”
“Oh.” Obi-Wan considered. “We could stock up on supplies then. And we could find out when the next transports will be arriving.”
His Master nodded, and they sat down to eat their food before continuing with their day. Obi-Wan stole a surreptitious glance at his Master while they ate. He was still sleepy, but was coming slowly to full awareness. Obi-Wan tried not to think too deeply about what he had seen or what it could possibly mean, but it pleased him to imagine that his Master could think of him as more than just his student.
By the time they had finished eating their breakfast, Qui-Gon’s natural aura of calm awareness had restored itself, and Obi-Wan firmly shoved all thoughts of any relationship other than as teacher and student to the back of his mind.
They gathered the few items that they would need for a day in the city. On their way out, Qui-Gon let the hosteller know that they would be returning before the rains started. She chirped with gratitude, and accepted a few credits as earnest for their return.
The journey to the central market was a short one, but they had to walk the entire distance as their resources were beginning to dwindle. They had to conserve enough credits to get back to Coruscant, where both Jedi could receive their respective allowances before moving to another world to continue Obi-Wan’s training.
Obi-Wan frowned as he tried to calculate how many credits they had left. Internal components for a lightsaber were costly. He wasn’t certain they had sufficient funds, and knew that his Master would sacrifice his own comfort for his student’s needs.
“We can afford it,” said Qui-Gon softly. “You worry too much.”
Obi-Wan shrugged. “I’m young. Maybe I’ll grow out of it.”
Qui-Gon laughed. “Yes, you are.” He draped an arm around the younger man’s shoulders, and gave him a quick hug while they walked. “And you will.”
Telloo was not particularly pleased to see the two Jedi. He was eager to give them the latest news about transport arrivals and departures, but was reluctant to sell them the high tech parts they asked for.
Qui-Gon let his student do most of the talking. He stood back, and watched the young man wrap himself in the authority of the Jedi to convince the shopkeeper to deal fairly with them. He only interfered when young Obi-Wan tried to skimp on their purchases, insisting that they buy everything they needed now. At the end, they got the parts, but their means were now seriously compromised.
“Master, are you sure we need to buy all this now?” asked Obi-Wan as they bundled up their acquisitions. “We could have left some things until later.”
Qui-Gon didn’t reply until they were out of the shopkeeper’s hearing. “He wanted to sell those parts to someone else, and I doubt that we would have been able to find them later.”
“Who else would need the things we asked him for?” Obi-Wan was confused. “There aren’t many offworlders, and the next transport won’t arrive for another week Standard.”
“He mentioned a light cruiser from Ellestri.” Ellestri was a system far from the Galactic Core, and was well known for its corrupt Senator and resultant lawless ways. The Senator had begun her career by turning a blind eye to forged idents and cargo manifests, and now Ellestri was a haven for smugglers and pirates.
“Pirates?” said Obi-Wan doubtfully. “Nyree doesn’t seem like a good world to hide.” Despite its position as a convenient junction to the core systems, Nyree’s caustic atmosphere prevented all but the most determined settlers. The internal security forces of Nyree’s natives, coupled with the frequent passage of well-guarded merchant convoys, enforced a strict order that most other worlds and systems envied.
“If they were severely damaged, they may not have had a choice. Damaged shields on a light cruiser usually requires a number of cycling elements to repair,” Qui-Gon observed. “I think we should avoid the crew from the Ellestrian cruiser. Let us return to the hostel, and finish restoring your lightsaber.”
Obi-Wan nodded. In his current state, he would be happy to spend every waking moment alone with his Master. He was still seriously considering abandoning the Path, and that made these moments even more valuable.
The hostel was quiet when they returned. N’Kata’Jala trilled in despair when they entered. There was a stranger leaning on the bar, a dark man with parallel scars on both sides of his face.
“Greetings,” said Qui-Gon mildly.
“I understand that you might have some spare parts for sale.” The man stood up, and walked casually over to the two Jedi.
Obi-Wan noted that he had at least four companions in the dining area of the hostel. Two were armed with light blasters, and the man who was speaking and the other two had heavy blasters. He sensed that they were easily inclined to violence. Obi-Wan shifted the bundles he was carrying so that he could easily reach his lightsaber if necessary.
Qui-Gon stepped forward, effectively cutting off Obi-Wan’s view of the stranger. “You are mistaken. We have nothing for sale.”
“Then, perhaps we could buy the items we need from you. The merchant Telloo says he sold you some things that he should have saved for us.” The man had assumed a stance that was meant to be conciliatory, but only managed to look threatening. “We’ll pay for what we want.”
“I’m afraid we cannot,” Qui-Gon shook his head. “Our need is greater than yours. We have nothing to spare.”
“You might want to reconsider. We’ll pay well,” offered the man. He had shifted slightly, letting his hands fall to rest near his weapons.
Qui-Gon cocked his head to one side, as if listening. “No, you will not.”
Apparently, Qui-Gon had pushed beyond the limits of the pirate’s patience. “Are you calling me a liar, old man?” He grabbed Qui-Gon’s robe and pulled him up, so they were eye to eye with each other.
Obi-Wan stiffened, but his Master merely brushed the violence aside. With a simple shrug, he freed himself from the other man’s grasp. Two of the other pirates stood at that, assuming that a fight would surely follow. But Qui-Gon merely stepped away, still keeping himself between Obi-Wan and the others.
“If you had meant to pay,” said Qui-Gon as if he were speaking to a particularly slow child, “you would have come alone. You did not; if you are the crew of the light cruiser that Telloo mentioned,” here, Qui-Gon paused, as if awaiting confirmation, and the pirate started in surprise, as if he had assumed no one knew who they were. “You brought much of your crew with you, and well-armed, to deal with an old man and his student.”
“These are dangerous times,” smiled the man, but his eyes were grim and unfriendly.
“Indeed.” Qui-Gon looked through the windows. “The rains will start soon. If you intend violence, realize that you will be here with us for the remainder of the day, whether you succeed or not. That would be. . . unpleasant, I think. For both of us. You have spent too long in this discussion. You will not intimidate us, and you no longer have the time to force us and return to your ship before the Reeve’s men are alerted.”
“ Unless I’m willing to commit murder.” The man drew his weapon. “This is your last chance, old man.”
“Enabling you to repair your ship will only lead to more violence. I will not allow that.” Qui-Gon’s voice was soft and sad; he had realized that violence was finally inevitable.
“Enough of this.” He raised his weapon.
Before the pirate could fire, Qui-Gon moved, smoothly disarming the pirate’s leader, and dislocated the man’s arm so that he could not draw another weapon. He followed that with a quick turn to face the other two pirates, and now he and Obi-Wan were standing side by side. They faced the room, silent now except for the groan of the pirate’s leader. The others were too shocked by Qui-Gon’s speed, and they didn’t have the courage to fight the calm fearlessness that now faced them.
“Let’s get out of here,” muttered one of the other pirates. They gathered their fallen leader, and left quickly by the rear exit.
The Jedi let them leave. The Reeve’s men would deal with them, or the Navy would. They couldn’t leave the planet until their shields were repaired, and this incident would not go unnoticed even if they didn’t report it personally.
Qui-Gon smiled at N’Kata’Jala, and then walked upstairs as if nothing had happened. Obi-Wan made sure he still had all the things they had just purchased in the city before following his Master.
Obi-Wan walked into the room, to find his Master in a restorative meditation pose. He was shaking with some suppressed emotion. “Master? Are you all right?”
“A moment.” Qui-Gon spoke quickly. He was frightened, or rather, he had been.
His emotions were quickly retreating back behind his normal shell, but right now Obi-Wan could read them as clearly as if they were written out for him. His Master had been frightened because the pirate had aimed for Obi-Wan.
Just before Qui-Gon managed to pull away from the suddenly too-open link between them, Obi-Wan found what he was looking for, and basked in the emotional warmth of his Master’s love for him - both as a student, and as a man.
Both men gasped, and Qui-Gon sprang to his feet.
“I’m sorry - I didn’t mean to - ” Obi-Wan started to retreat across the room, but his Master, his beloved Master, caught him and held him close.
“You really do worry too much,” murmured Qui-Gon, and then he kissed him.
Their emotions touched at the same time as their lips, wrapping them in a cocoon of mutual assurance that each wanted the other very badly. For Obi-Wan, it was like a dream come true, rich with possibilities and predictions of what was to come. The games he had played as a boy were nothing compared to this. “You desire me,” he breathed in surprise.
“We usually do,” said Qui-Gon. “It is traditional for a Master and student to be everything to each other, when circumstances and species permit it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that?” asked Obi-Wan.
“One waits for the student to learn such things.” He kissed Obi-Wan again, deeper this time, testing and tasting every surface that he could reach in the younger man’s mouth. Qui-Gon moaned in surprise as his student demonstrated remarkable skill in this discipline, meeting his tongue with openness and stroking it with his own.
Obi-Wan let his Master lead him to where their pallets lay on the floor. They sank to the floor, still locked in a passionate embrace.
“What - ”
“Pleasure,” his Master answered. “That’s all for now. No more.”
Qui-Gon pulled off his outer robes, and Obi-Wan did the same. Qui-Gon kissed him again, before sliding his hands down Obi-Wan’s body. He had touched his student countless times before this, but never before as a lover. He was lean and strong, a pleasure to touch and a joy to hold. Obi-Wan’s body rose beneath him like a wave in the ocean. Qui-Gon let himself be swept to the side, cradling his student’s body in his arms.
Obi-Wan’s kisses raced from tempestuous to passive, and back again, while Qui-Gon’s hands glided beneath Obi-Wan’s clothes and between his legs. The older man met his passion with desire, his passivity with hunger. Their kisses alone could have been enough to satisfy their need to touch, but fell just short of calming the storm.
Mimicking his Master’s movements, Obi-Wan slid his hands beneath Qui-Gon’s clothes. He explored the broad shoulders and stroked the well-muscled chest, as he worked his hands down to the root of Qui-Gon’s manhood. He was too shy to do more than hold it, but he was pleasantly surprised to find that Qui-Gon was already rock-hard.
Qui-Gon had one hand on Obi-Wan’s hardness, and supported Obi-Wan as they lay side by side with the other. He caressed Obi-Wan gently at first, then with more determination as his own need grew. Soon, the younger man overcame his reserve, and let his hands become more daring on his Master’s throbbing staff.
Panting and groaning between fiery kisses, Qui-Gon let his emotions flow freely. His soul burned to become one with Obi-Wan. He’d never felt so fiercely for anyone before, not even for his own Master. Obi-Wan had a sensual touch, equal parts of innocence and desire, coupled with an emotional strength unlike anything that Qui-Gon had ever experienced before.
Qui-Gon felt a telltale quiver run down his lover’s body, and knew that he would come soon. He redoubled his efforts, striving to make this experience perfect. Obi-Wan shifted himself closer, and Qui-Gon pulled him as close as he could.
“Master,”gasped Obi-Wan, and came. Qui-Gon kissed him again, drinking in the feel of Obi-Wan’s satisfaction.
The younger man never stopped moving his hands, and after a few moments, Qui-Gon came as well. He shuddered as his body reached completion, and then the two Jedi lay silently beside each other in the still night.
Outside, the storm of acid rain started to fade.
“Finally,” said Qui-Gon softly, “the boy became a man. He could no longer check the stone every year as he once had. One day, when he came to the stream behind his house to look, he could not find the rock. The waterfall had worn away the rock completely, revealing what lay at its heart.” He opened the neck of his shirt, moved Obi-Wan’s fingers to the necklace that he wore there, and let the beautiful green-white gem rest in Obi-Wan’s palm.
Obi-Wan watched in amazement as the stone darkened in response to his touch, turning first black, then gold. “Is that adelphite?” A rare and exceptionally precious stone, a piece of adelphite this size could buy a starship.
Qui-Gon nodded. “A suitable reward for patience and faith.” He lifted the chain over his head, and fastened it around Obi-Wan’s neck. “Now, sleep.”
The next Parable: The Mouse and the Cookie