Archive: M_A, SWAL,QJEB, The Nesting Place-- anybody who wants
it, really
Archive Date: April 24, 2000
Author's Webpage: http://thesleepydragon.com/nesting/darkangel.html
Category: AU
Disclaimer: The real Qui and Obi belong to George - these two are
incredibly similar so I have to write this but they're still mine -
mine, mine, mine, mine, all mine! Bwahahahaha!
Feedback: If you like it please let me know. It's a great ego
booster!
Notes: Chocolate Obi-Wans and Qui-Gons covered in whipped cream
to Chris & Heather - my goddesses of beta.
This is dedicated to Holly - a great writer and an even greater friend!
Pairing: Q/O
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Rape
Mmm ... thirsty...
Here, ahmaté, drink.
Where am...?
Shhh, you are safe from all harm here. I will keep you safe. Rest now, ask questions later. A large hand brushed over a furrowed forehead, leaving serenity in its wake. A suggestion of slumber was given silently and the young man succumbed, falling into peaceful dreams once more.
Next to the bed, Lord of Heaven Jinn breathed a sigh of relief at long last. His chosen was out of danger - now they could both rest. Gently smoothing a red-gold lock of hair from the face of his young Adonis, Qui-Gon brushed his lips against the now cool brow, and felt the spark of the soul-bond once more. For now they would begin to learn of one another as he prepared the young man to take his rightful place at Qui-Gon's side. In a few cycles however... already he felt the need for a deepening of the bond, and it was only days old. How difficult the coming years would prove to be, until his soul mate was old enough...
Chuckling softly, Qui-Gon caressed the youth's cheek, as he anticipated the cycles to come. "I don't even know your name yet, ahmaté."
The warmth of the sun on his back teased Obi-Wan into wakefulness. Rolling over, he sleepily rubbed his eyes and looked around. His eyes widened as he realized he was not at home in his own bed, but in a strange, magical room. It was large and airy - seemingly carved out of living stone. A wall of windows was opposite his bed, darkly opaque now, and yet he had vague recollections of bright sunlight.
The room was sparsely furnished but every piece was exquisite. The bed Obi-Wan lay on was almost as large as the entire living area of his parent's home. Rich tapestries decorated the three stone walls of this room, interspersed with ornate mirrors. Looking up, Obi-Wan's breath caught. There were high vaulted ceilings painted like the dome of heaven. The mythological star creatures painted there were beautiful in the extreme.
Where am I? he thought, wonderingly.
A shadow fell across him, startling Obi-Wan and causing him to jerk back in surprise. This brought a hiss of pain to his lips as his still healing body protested the abuse his mind was only just remembering.
Shhh, stillness ahmaté. You were badly wounded, a lightsword pierced your left side and you are still recovering. Move gently so it doesn't re-open the injury.
The voice was not spoken aloud, it was in his mind! How was this possible? Looking up once more to search for answers, Obi-Wan's startled gaze was caught by Lord of Heaven Jinn's placid eyes.
I am in the home of the Lord of Heaven! Obi-Wan thought, hardly daring to believe it.
"Qui-Gon," the Lord spoke, his voice as smooth as brandy-cream.
"Your pardon Lord?"
"My name is Qui-Gon, my ahmaté, and it would please me greatly to hear you use it," Qui-Gon replied, smiling down at him. "Though I do not yet know your name?"
"I am called Obi-Wan, Lord," he whispered reverently.
"Qui-Gon," the Lord repeated, reminding him.
"But that would be disrespectful!" Obi-Wan burst out. To use the Lord of Heaven's given name when he was merely...
"My Chosen. You are my Chosen young Obi-Wan, and there is nothing 'mere' about it. However, if it will make you feel more at ease, you may call me Master, but only for the time being ahmaté," Qui-Gon admonished. Sighing inwardly, he accepted that for now he would have to live with this. But one day soon, his soul bonded would use his true name, else wise it would make their lives together a challenge.
"If it should so please you, Master," Obi-Wan replied, pausing as he tried to figure out how to pose the question nagging him.
"What do you wish to know Obi-Wan? You may ask me anything you like with freedom, do not be afraid to question me on anything," Qui-Gon encouraged as he sat next to Obi-Wan on the great bed.
"I was wondering, Master, what does that mean? The word you keep calling me, I have never heard it before."
Qui-Gon considered for a moment. Ahmaté, in the purest sense of the word meant 'one whose life is forever entwined with mine.' It was more commonly used as an endearment that meant 'love of my life.' With the soul-bond between them both were true, and yet Qui-Gon was hesitant to share the meaning of either with his Chosen. Now was not the time. First Obi-Wan had to be told about the soul-bond and what it truly was. First the younger man had to accept it. Then there was the matter of his being Qui-Gon's Chosen.
Normally, a Chosen was trained for five cycles, then sent to other villages to teach for another two cycles before being elevated into the Light Order. Until that time, Obi-Wan was his apprentice. Qui-Gon had to train him in the ways of the Order. To do this properly he would sometimes need to be harsh with Obi-Wan. If handled incorrectly, this could do damage to their bond. Finally, there was Obi-Wan's age. Qui-Gon estimated that he was between fifteen and seventeen cycles, so the final merging of souls could not happen for two to four cycles at least.
"Master?" Obi-Wan's honeyed voice called Qui-Gon back from his introspection.
"How old are you, my Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon asked, completely oblivious to his possessive turn of phrase.
Unsure of how his age had anything to do with the question, Obi-Wan still answered. "I am sixteen cycles old, Master."
So his estimation had been correct. Three cycles. By the light it seemed an eternity. "I will make you a promise my Chosen one. Upon your nineteenth cycle I will tell you exactly what ahmaté means, in every possible sense. For now, be assured it means that you are an important and necessary part of my life. Can you be content with this?"
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan promised. "Master, what is to become of me?" he asked, with some trepidation. "Am I to remain with you or to be returned to my family? Oh! My family, are they...?"
"They are safe and well, I promise," Qui-Gon reassured him. "As for you, this is now your home. You are my Chosen Obi-Wan, and will be trained as my eventual successor. I will one day be too old to be an active Lord and will need someone younger to take my place. The Light guided me to you when I least wanted or expected to find an heir. I had been badly hurt and feared I would never heal, and yet the Light guided me to you - and in your single, selfless act you healed scars I feared would never fade. It was the will of the Light that I should find you. So - you shall be taught all of the secrets I have, and one day you will be Lord of Heaven Obi-Wan and my heir."
"But for now, we will start small. Considering your quickness and agility in the village, I think we shall begin teaching you how to use a lightsword. As well, we shall work on your mental acuity and shielding. I think this will be enough for the moment. I have a feeling you will be a quick student and will keep me on my toes." Qui-Gon chuckled. "For now, rest my Chosen. When you have recovered some more we will begin. Sleep." Qui-Gon once more nudged the youth into a healing slumber, watching as Obi-Wan tried to struggle against the suggestion but finally giving in with an exhausted sigh.
Qui-Gon Jinn, Lord of Heaven, Master of the Order of Light, sighed happily, an almost foolish smile on his face, as he watched Obi-Wan sleep. His ahmaté was as exquisite as a dream when he slept, so pure and innocent, but when he was awake. Qui-Gon sighed in happy remembrance of sparkling blue-green eyes, a mischievous smile and a happy soul. The aura surrounding his Obi-Wan was joyous and alive. The energies danced with the vibrancy of youth, sang with the kindness of the young man's soul and whispered of the generosity of his heart.
Pressing another reverent kiss to his beloved's forehead, Qui-Gon rose, and left his soul bonded to sleep. He had things to do. Most importantly he had to contact his Master and ask the elder to visit him. Qui-Gon wanted the soul bond confirmed and declared. Now that he had Obi-Wan with him, he was not about to let anything separate them again.
"Did you see the way he protected that whelp of a cousin of mine? Sith, if dearest Obi was stupid enough to step in front of my blade he should die!" Xanatos snarled, pacing his rooms like a caged animal. "That wretched little wimp has always been so nice. It's nauseating. Damn him, I'm just going to have to kill him too..." before he could finish the sentence Xanatos went flying across the room.
"You will leave the boy alone!" Maul growled dangerously. "Hear me well pup. If that boy is harmed in any way, it will be you who suffers the most. I shall show you pain unlike you have ever imagined. Do you understand?"
As he spoke, Maul took Xanatos by the throat and lifted him, pinning him to the wall a foot above the ground. "I said Do. You. Understand?" With each bitten off word, Maul squeezed harder and harder, until Xanatos couldn't breathe at all. Nodding desperately and sending over their bond his compliance, Xanatos tried desperately not to black out.
He was dropped as suddenly as he was attacked, and gasped, filling starving lungs with air as he knelt at Maul's feet. "For... forgive my impudence Master... I will never assume again..."
"Very good my precious. I have need of you now. Into my chambers - remove your clothes and prepare yourself for me as I have taught you." Violence always aroused Maul. Violence coupled with the thoughts of his soon-to-be pet made dark need howl through him. In his present mood Maul would require extra stimulation to give him total satiation. Strolling over to a cabinet, Maul opened it and chose one of his favorite toys, a five-tailed whip.
Maul removed his clothes, folding them neatly and laying them aside. Picking up the whip, the Lord of Darkness entered his chambers to find a subservient apprentice abasing himself on the floor, erection bound tightly in a leather harness and bisected by the cock pin, pierced nipples weighted down and anus greased and being stretched by a massive, synthetic plug. Oh yes, a great deal of extra stimulation would be required. Maul grinned ferally as he softly slid the door shut behind him.
Xanatos bit back the whimpers of pain that threatened to break free, as he regained consciousness. To show anything but joy at his abuse would only bring more brutality. His cock already ached and throbbed like a living thing. He was fully erect and aroused. How he adored his Master at times like this. He was prone, his hips grinding into the floor for stimulation and his Master was covering him, laving at the wounds the whip had left behind. He feasted on the pain and lust that was transmitted through his apprentice's crimson blood.
The violence had faded to manageable levels thanks to his chastisement of his apprentice, but Maul was now more aroused than ever. One need had been satisfied and now another beckoned.
"Ahhh, my precious darkling love is awake at last. I am so proud of you my dark heart. You lasted much longer this time. Shall I reward you now?" Maul purred.
"Master... please, whatever you want!" Xanatos gasped, need racing through him. The pain always brought with it the clarity of need and want. His master could do with him as he wished, Xanatos was his willing slave.
"What I want, my apprentice, is to possess you, own you, violate you. I want to feel the black heat of your soul, watch it consume you. I want you corrupted, abased and defiled. I want you to grow into a mighty Sith," Maul whispered , luring the young man deeper and deeper into their shadow world.
"Yes Master, anything... everything for you," Xanatos moaned, bucking his hips backward in a show of submission.
"You are so good to me, my apprentice," Maul growled, as he knelt above Xanatos. He pried apart the younger man's ass cheeks and pulled out the plug that still invaded Xanatos' body, only to replace it with the hard bar of his flesh. Slowly and gently, he began to move, arousing his young lover and taking him with a softness that shattered.
"More, more please Master. I am yours to claim - PLEASE!" Xanatos cried, trying to increase the depth and severity of his Master's strokes. He needed the violation and degradation of being used. Maul had conditioned him so well that the only time Xanatos felt truly loved was when his Master was abusing him. Xanatos was truly the Sith Lord's private whore, trained to please his Master in every and any way.
For it was in pleasing Maul that Xanatos felt the dark fire of the Sith burn the hottest within him. This was what he was meant to be. Maul's plaything. This was what it was to be possessed by the Lord of Darkness.