Archive: yes
Archive Date: November 28, 1999
Author's Webpage: http://adult.dencity.com/PumpkinPatch/
Category: First Times
Disclaimer: Lucasfilm, Lucasfilm, Lucasfilm
Feedback: is always a treat
Notes: There are a few people I need to thank for seeing me through this story -Rina for general betaing and support, Gloriana for taming my spelling and grammar and for making me think, even when I didn't want to. And to michelle for encouragement, support, and allowing me to hog the brain :)
Pairing: Q/O
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Jedi ritual is observed as a relationship grows.

"There's no need to cry Obi-Wan, this isn't going to hurt, I promise you."

Large almost-blue eyes followed the creche Master's progress as he stepped back, giving the barber plenty of elbow room. Turning to the big man with beefy arms Obi-Wan watched him pick up a pair of scissors.

"Mummy likes it long."

"Heh. You don't want to keep this baby hair. A nice big boy like you shouldn't have this fine long hair. You don't want people to think you're a baby, do you?" The barber laughed as he spoke, clapping strong hands on Obi-Wan's shoulders. The toddler looked back at Master, his hands moving to the arms of the high chair he sat in, gripping them tightly. He screwed his face up very tightly as he tried to hold back his tears.

"You are Jedi now, Obi-Wan. You will find that there are many things here that we do differently from what you are used to." The creche Master's voice was low and soothing and Obi-Wan's shoulders lost some of their stiffness. It returned completely as a loud buzzing noise began, coming from the small device in the barber's hand which was moving towards Obi-Wan's head, growing louder as it came closer.

Ten minutes later, fine hair shorn down to his skull, Obi-Wan walked out of the barber's shop, small hand holding tightly to the creche Master's. He held his mouth in a tight line and his eyes were over-bright, but his cheeks were dry.

Obi-Wan tramped sullenly down to the main level of the temple, credit chip clutched tightly in his hand. He knew the way - he'd been here before, once every year, on his birthday, for the last seven years. As the white walls of the temple gave way to the brighter, more garish paint of storefronts he grew more tense.

"Baby-fine!" boomed the barber as Obi-Wan opened the door and crossed the threshold. "Is it that time of year again already?"

"Yes, sir," said Obi-Wan quietly as he handed over his credit chip and followed the large, round man to one of the chairs that lined the far wall. They had had the same conversation every year and though Obi-Wan was used to the man's teasing and loud manner, he didn't like it much more now than he had when he'd been two. Of course now he was one of the older initiates and couldn't let his annoyance show - he had to release it to the Force and be calm.

Giving the man his credit chip, Obi-Wan sat in what he had come to regard as 'the birthday chair'. He chose to sit in the same one every year to have his hair cut. This year it had grown more quickly than before and it hung well past his chin. It was something to do with 'burgeoning hormones', if he'd understood Master Etna right - one could never be entirely sure of information gathered while eavesdropping.

The dreaded buzzing sound started and Obi-Wan watched in the mirror as the small razor moved through his hair like a scythe through a field of wheat. In scant moments his scalp was exposed under less than a quarter of an inch of hair and the floor was littered with the reddy gold strands that had taken a year to grow.

"There - now you look like a man!"

"Yes, sir," Obi-Wan answered politely, refraining from pointing out that at nine, he hardly qualified as a man, no matter what his hair looked like. Besides, men got to choose their own haircut, so that definitely made him still a boy.

"Why don't you ever come get it cut during the year, huh? They let you do that you know." The barber hefted the credit chip as if weighing it before tossing it back to Obi-Wan, who caught it deftly.

"Once a year is more than enough, sir," Obi-Wan responded vehemently. This too was a part of the ritual. Happy to get away, Obi-Wan was gone before his hair had been swept off the floor and into the recycler.

"It would seem," said Master Jinn, coming to sit next to Obi-Wan on the youth's bunk, "that there is something I forgot to give you on your birthday."

"Yes, Master?"

"A haircut." Master Jinn ran his hands through the reddish length that was a little longer than it had ever been, as Obi-Wan's birthday had passed some weeks hence.

"That explains why I've felt as though I didn't really have a birthday," said Obi-Wan, trying for a light note. Master Jinn's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Nothing much got past him, Obi-Wan noted.

"You don't like getting your hair cut? Which would explain its length," he asked and then answered his question. "You go a full year between trims. Well, now that you are an apprentice we will have to see that it is kept short at all times."

"Yes, Master."

"It will be your duty to let me know when it starts to get long and needs cutting."

"Yes, Master."

Obi-Wan watched as Master Jinn took a small knife and a whetstone from his belt. Wetting the stone with a few drops of water from his canteen, he began to pass the knife over it in smooth strokes. The sound of the blade scrapping over the stone was almost hypnotic and Obi-Wan found himself mesmerised by the repeated flash as the knife caught the light on the down-stroke.

"Padawans have always worn their hair short, with the exception of the braid at their ear. The short hair is like a badge of office - the length of the braid denoting the length of service."

"Yes, Master."

"It is not meant as a punishment," Master Jinn told him as he tested the blade against his thumb and, satisfied, put the small stone back into a pouch on his belt.

"I know, Master. And I'm not so vain that I wish to have long hair for beauty's sake. It's just..."

"Yes, Padawan?"

Master Jinn settled onto the bunk and manoeuvred Obi-Wan into place on the edge in front of him, between the two long legs.

"My mother liked it long," Obi-Wan said softly. "That's the only real memory I have of her - her running her fingers through it and singing to me. I felt safe and loved then, like nothing could touch me."

"You didn't feel safety at the Temple?" Master Jinn grasped a handful of the hair and pulled the knife through it, placing the shorn hair on the bed beside him.

"I felt...alone."

"You are alone no longer."

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan sat still, enjoying the warmth coming from the big body behind him. It felt weird having his hair cut and not being in the big black chair, not watching in the mirror as his hair was once again shaved down to the skull.

"I like your hair like this," Master Jinn told him and Obi-Wan ran his hand over it, surprised to find that instead of being cut right down to his skull, he was left with almost an inch of length. His hand drifted down to his right ear, where a section of his hair had been left uncut. For my braid - my padawan braid. He sat a little straighter at the thought.

Master Jinn removed the tie from the long braid that hung nearly to his waist and cut off a small section of the brown leather. His hands returned to Obi-Wan's head and he began to braid the hair behind his ear.

"One strand for the Master, one for the Padawan and one for the Force. The Force winds around us and we around it. It is our ally, our friend, our greatest defence."

"There. Now you look like a proper Jedi Padawan."

Running his hand over the short, spiky hair, Obi-Wan grinned and wordlessly cleaned up the evidence of their activity. As he returned to the bunk, Master Jinn shifted to the top of the bed, patting the mattress beside him in silent invitation. Obi-Wan climbed in and lay down, resting his head on the solid thighs of his Master. He pulled the covers up, letting his eyes close as large hands fussed with the covers until they were snugly under his chin.

"Goodnight, Obi-Wan."

"Goodnight, Master."

He fell asleep to the sound of soft humming, long fingers running through the short length of hair on his head.

Obi-Wan sliced through the water, pulling with his arms and pushing with his legs, the cool liquid caressing his skin. Reaching the rim of the circle of Nevarian youths, he stood, the smooth pebbles on the riverbed massaging the soles of his feet. The water swirled around him, reaching as far as his navel, and the sun shone warmly on his torso, warming him.

"All right," said Ternos, the eldest of them at 17, "on the count of three."

Having missed the planning, Obi-Wan found himself in a very bad position when the water fight began, despite the countdown. He was caught in spray from all sides and reduced to aimlessly splashing water out in every direction. A warmth pressed against his side and with it came an extra pair of hands sweeping water at the others. He was nudged towards his right and, still splashing, he slowly made his way out of the main line of fire.

Shaking the water out of his eyes, he looked down on Imali, Ternos' lovely half-sister. Her eyelashes were spiky with water that glinted in the sunshine, long hair cascaded in wet waves from her head and her mouth was darkly red and curved into a laughing smile. She was as naked as he was and Obi-Wan found himself distracted by the water beading on her breasts.

Imali looped her hands behind his neck and pulled Obi-Wan down into a kiss. Obi-Wan pressed his lips tightly against hers and tentatively wrapped his hands around her waist. Her skin was so soft, her lips even more so. She was running her hands through his hair now, over the short spikes and down along the swath of hair behind his ear.

Obi-Wan pulled away, hand reaching for his braid.

"Oh no!" The braid had been undone, the beautiful Imali's hands tangled in it. Grabbing her hand, he pulled it from his hair. "Where's the tie?" he asked, almost crying as he searched in vain for the small piece of worn brown leather that had bound the hair for slightly more than three years.

"Relax," Imali's eyes twinkled up at him as her fingers began to comb through the hair that reached just past his clavicle. "I'll fix it after."

"No!" Obi-Wan practically shouted the word at her, pulling her hand from his hair yet again and striding unhappily from the river. The water had grown thick and it clung to him, weighing him down as he waded back to the bank where his clothes lay neatly piled. He began to dress quickly, not even bothering to dry himself and the clothing became damp, adhering to his skin.

"Well. Excuse me."

Obi-Wan could hear the hurt in Imali's voice and he hung his head, turning back to the river. He watched the sun glinted over the surface, looking for patterns.

"I'm sorry," he said, miserably, looking at her now, his arm stretching towards her. "It's just..." His voice grew soft and he couldn't finish. The ritual of his braid belonged to him and his Master and he could not share it, even to soothe the hurt in this pretty girl who had only wanted to please him. "I'm sorry," he said again, turning and making his way back to the city, blind to the colour and noise around him.

He'd managed to get himself back under control by the time he reached the rooms he shared with his Master. He was relieved to find the man sitting on the balcony, a book in one hand, a glass of something cold in the other. He stood respectfully at Master Qui-Gon's side, watching as the condensation on the glass slowly beaded into a sufficiently heavy drop before sliding along the cup's surface and plummeting to the ground.

Master Qui-Gon set down his glass on the ground beside his chair and turned the open book onto his knee.

"Yes, Padawan?" he asked, acknowledging Obi-Wan's presence.

"Master, my braid..."

Master Qui-Gon looked up, squinting against the sun a moment before pulling Obi-Wan over to stand in front of him. He raised an eyebrow as he noticed the loose hair blowing in the light breeze. Obi-Wan shivered as it tickled across his neck - he didn't like the sensation.

"You've come undone, Padawan."

"Yes, Master. It was Imali. She didn't know. And then it was too late and the tie was lost and I'm so sorry, Master." Obi-Wan spoke quietly, hurriedly, as his earlier agitation came flooding back.

"There are other ties," Master Qui-Gon suggested.

"But this one was special."

"Oh?"

"It was the one you cut from your own when you tied my braid for the first time."

"Well then," said Master Qui-Gon as he pulled out the band that currently bound the customary braid down his back. "We shall have to cut you a new one." Suiting action to words, he pulled his knife from his belt and cut a small length from the leather tie. He indicated the ground before him and Obi-Wan slipped quietly to his knees in the space between his Master's legs. Master Qui-Gon began to braid the hair that hung behind Obi-Wan's ear, working it into the plait that marked his years of service.

"One strand for the Master, one for the Padawan and one for the Force. The Force winds around us and we around it. It is our ally, our friend, our greatest defence. The Force is with us before we are, while we live and when we are no more. We are thrice bound."

"Thank you, Master."

Master Qui-Gon smiled, retying his own braid with the truncated tie. He sat back in his chair, picking up his book to resume his reading, one hand resting on Obi-Wan's shoulder. Obi-Wan rolled and turned slightly to sit at Master Qui-Gon's feet, watching the sun find its way across the sky.

Obi-Wan came out of the 'fresher towelling his short hair dry. He was hungry from fasting and his muscles ached vaguely from a full day of new katas and routines. He ran a hand through the hair on his head, freshly cut in honour of his eighteenth birthday the following day. He let the hand run down the side of his face, pulling the water out of the thin tail of hair behind his ear. He quickly rubbed it dry before tossing his towel into the laundry.

Wearing only his thin sleeping pants, as he planned to meditate and then go to bed once his braid was done, Obi-Wan snagged his special brush from Master Qui-Gon's dresser. Bowing formally to Master Windu seated on the couch as he entered the common room, Obi-Wan knelt between Master Qui-Gon's legs, back to the chair his Master sat in. It was Master Qui-Gon's favourite chair - a roomy, deep armchair that managed to dwarf even the large Master. Obi-Wan sat quietly as the two Masters continued their debate on the merits of the fifth meditation over the eighth.

"Well, Obi-Wan," said Master Windu, turning his attention to the younger man. His cool voice held a hint of warmth in it as he spoke to Obi-Wan. "Tomorrow is the day that marks the 18th year of your life."

Obi-Wan inclined his head in agreement.

"This is traditionally the time in a young Jedi's life when we acknowledge that he is now an adult and, while still under the tutelage and care of a Master, can take responsibility for himself. It is at this time that young Jedi are asked to formally accept the life they have been brought up in and to eschew outside influences such as family and home-planet commitments, honours and such. There isn't a formal ceremony, but certain questions must be answered in the presence of a Council Member. These questions have been handed down from generation to generation since the beginning of the Order."

Obi-Wan didn't realise he'd grown tense until Qui-Gon's hands came to rest on his shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze and he relaxed immediately. Master Qui-Gon had told him about this and he had spent the day meditating on it, even though he knew that it was his destiny to be a Jedi. But Master Qui-Gon had asked him to give the question all due attention and so he had. Still, here was Master Windu, making the whole thing suddenly official.

"Many padawans return to their home-worlds - to say goodbye, to be sure the Jedi are what they want and to make the decision with the very real reminder of what they are leaving behind. Few, very few, do not return. You have chosen not to do this?"

Obi-Wan inclined his head, indicating yes.

"You are released from your vow to honour silence to answer these questions," Master Qui-Gon told him.

A slight nod to Master Qui-Gon, his still silent 'yes, Master', and Obi-Wan turned back to Master Windu.

"This is my home, here is my family. I have no need to travel away from them to know that it is here where I belong." Obi-Wan spoke with quiet certainty and a seriousness not often found in one so young. Master Windu smiled approvingly.

"The purpose of this journey is two-fold. The second is to mark the occasion as important. Have you otherwise marked it?"

"Yes, Master. I have spent the day in silent contemplation, fasting and performing the complete katas of obedience as well as the routines of reflection."

"Very good," pronounced Mace. He closed his eyes and meditated for a moment. Obi-Wan waited quietly, Master Qui-Gon's hands warm and comforting on his shoulders. Taking a deep breath, Master Windu came out of his light trance and began his questions.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi, padawan learner to Qui-Gon Jinn, master of the Jedi, are you ready to assume the responsibility of yourself?"

"Yes, Master, I am." Obi-Wan's voice was quiet, but strong, his certainty ringing true in the Force.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi, padawan learner to Qui-Gon Jinn, master of the Jedi, do you relinquish and deny any outside commitments of your birth-right? Do you leave behind your loyalty to your birth family?"

"Yes, Master, I do."

"Obi-Wan Kenobi, padawan learner to Qui-Gon Jinn, master of the Jedi, do you accept the ways of the Jedi as your own; do you wish to live by our codes and our tenets and to dedicate yourself to bringing peace to the universe?"

"Yes, Master, I do."

"Then it is my duty to welcome you." Master Windu stood up and came over to Obi-Wan's side. Leaning down, he kissed both of Obi-Wan's cheeks. "Welcome and be one of us."

"Thank you, Master." Obi-Wan completed the ritual with a small smile.

Master Qui-Gon added his own kisses, reaching around him, and Obi-Wan couldn't help but notice the differences. Master Windu's kiss had been impersonal, lips dry and firm. Master Qui-Gon's lips had been warm and soft and Obi-Wan's cheeks burned where they touched.

"Well I can see that you have a braid to attend to, Qui-Gon. I shall take my leave now." Master Windu turned to Obi-Wan, smiling at the padawan. "The Council will be pleased to hear that you have chosen to stay, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan bent his head in quiet acceptance of the compliment. It was a rare thing indeed, coming from Master Windu who had a reputation as a grave man. The door closed softly behind him.

Master Qui-Gon's hand slid down to Obi-Wan's chest from his shoulder, and the young man handed the brush to him. Leaning back against Master Qui-Gon's chair, pressing against the side of his Master's legs, Obi-Wan closed his eyes. They used a special brush on his hair, one that Master Qui-Gon had purchased for him on Kashyyyk, the Wookie homeworld. It was a large oval with a strap around the smooth side that fit perfectly in his Master's hand. Obi-Wan sighed deeply, enjoying the pull of the brush through the short hair on his head, followed by Master Qui-Gon's fingers along with a slight application of the Force to encourage the short strands to stand upright.

Moving to the tail of hair behind Obi-Wan's ear, Master Qui-Gon pulled the brush through the length several times before putting it aside. He began to plait Obi-Wan's hair.

"One strand for the Master, one for the Padawan and one for the Force. The Force winds around us and we around it. It is our ally, our friend, our greatest defence. The Force is with us before we are, while we live and when we are no more. We are thrice bound."

"You have chosen the Force, as it has chosen you. The Force belongs to us and we to it. With our solemn vow we dedicate our lives to the Force."

"It's getting long," he said with a smile.

Still observing his day of silence, Obi-Wan rubbed his cheek along his Master's leg in thanks and agreement.

Master Qui-Gon ran his fingers along the braid once again, stopping to finger the small bead that now adorned it. Obi-Wan had given it to him the day before explaining why he had chosen it to mark this day. It's colour represented the Light that he chose to serve. It's material combined strength and fragility which represented a Jedi - the frail human combined with the all-powerful Force. Fingers drifting one last time through Obi-Wan's short hair, Master Qui-Gon gripped Obi-Wan's shoulders, giving them a brief squeeze.

"Go to bed, Padawan. There is plenty to do in the morning."

Obi-Wan rubbed his face against Master Qui-Gon's leg again, pressing a quick kiss there before going to his bedroom.

Kneeling at his Master's feet, Obi-Wan looked up earnestly.

"I need to speak with you, Master."

Master Qui-Gon regarded him in silence for a long while. Obi-Wan felt the passage of time, counting the seconds in the throb of the pulse at his wrists as he waited. Finally his Master broke the silence.

"Very well." His hands found Obi-Wan's braid and deft fingers undid the leather tie and began to comb out the braid, carefully placing the yellow bead on the side-table.

"Master?"

"You must come to me as your own man, not as my padawan." Master Qui-Gon said as he gently ran the back of his hand along the unbraided length, which now reached almost to the bottom of Obi-Wan's ribs. Obi-Wan watched in wonder, unaccustomed to the way emotions chased themselves across his Master's face and he realised that the man was nervous.

"You wished to speak to me, Obi-Wan," the older man finally prompted, face calming once again.

"Yes, Master." His Master lifted one brow and Obi-Wan corrected himself. "Qui-Gon." He took a deep breath and opened his heart to the man he loved.

"Mas- Qui-Gon, I love you," Obi-Wan's words were solemn but his face was open, shining with hope and happiness.

"And I love you, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon was smiling down at him.

"I want to make love to you," Obi-Wan blurted out, colour suffusing his face at his own boldness. A small part of him cringed that he spoke to his Master this way, but it was overwhelmed by the way the Force seemed to curl around them, encouraging him in the rightness of this course of action. Master Qui-Gon's hand cupped his cheek, thumb rubbing slowly over his lips.

Obi-Wan turned his head, kissing the palm of his Master's hand. Calluses and warm, leathery skin met his soft lips; hands he was intimately familiar with were suddenly new. He nuzzled into the large palm, mapping it with his lips.

Qui-Gon's other hand came up and ran through his hair and then down the side of his head, circling gently over the lobe of his ear before long fingers stroked his neck. Obi-Wan felt his pulse speed and his heart begin to hammer and he watched as Qui-Gon's breathing became visible - the great chest swelling with the need for air.

They remained frozen together for long moments, eyes roaming shyly, lovingly, hungrily, over bodies almost as familiar as their own and still with so much to discover. It was Qui-Gon who finally broke the silence, his voice thick in a way that Obi-Wan had never heard before.

"Will you come to my bed, Obi-Wan?"

"Yes, Qui-Gon." As if the words were the sign he had been waiting for, Obi-Wan stood and held out his hands to his Master, melting against the bigger man when Qui-Gon also stood. He pressed his cheek against his Master's shoulder, feeling strong arms come around him as he wrapped his own arms around the trim waist of his soon-to-be lover.

A final squeeze and they broke apart, joining hands without thought and walking together to Qui-Gon's bedroom. The sun streamed in through the windows, leaving the room bright and airy. Obi-Wan had to hold himself back from rushing to the bed and playfully tossing his Master on it - he was filled with a lightness that matched the room. He stopped at the bedside and turned to his Master.

"I love you, Qui-Gon." His words were softly but fiercely spoken, as if someone would contradict him. Qui-Gon only smiled and bent his head again to kiss him.

Their first kiss as lovers; the kiss that made them lovers. His Master's lips were warm and soft against his own, a tickle of beard rubbing around his mouth. Then Qui-Gon was licking at his mouth with a hot, wet tongue that pushed experimentally and Obi-Wan opened his mouth on a gasp only to gasp again as Qui-Gon's tongue roamed boldly in. Obi-Wan's mouth was thoroughly explored, no corner left untouched and the young man grabbed hold of his Master's shoulders to keep himself upright, his body shaking almost imperceptibly. He had been kissed before, but never like this, never so thoroughly as if the kisser owned him.

It was only when the sensations began to fade as he started to black out that Obi-Wan remembered he had to breathe and he sucked in air through his nose, refusing to relinquish the possessive connection of their mouths.

Qui-Gon began to withdraw his tongue, dancing it lightly over Obi-Wan's, inviting the younger man to follow as it retreated back into his own mouth. Tentatively, Obi-Wan pushed his own tongue past the open lips attached to his, darting in and retreating again. His body sank against Qui-Gon's and he felt the press of his Master's erection - hard, hot and heavy against his abdomen. Suddenly bold he thrust his tongue into Qui-Gon's mouth, feeling soft lips and gums and hard teeth and then a quicksilver tongue stroking along his.

Obi-Wan shuddered and moaned, pressing tighter against Qui-Gon, rocking his erection against the curve of his Master's hip. Without warning Qui-Gon closed his mouth over Obi-Wan's tongue and began to suck on it. Obi-Wan's trembling became pronounced as Qui-Gon's sucking grew steadily stronger until, with a muffled shout, Obi-Wan came, pressing his cock tightly against Qui-Gon's hip.

Vaguely, Obi-Wan was aware of being lifted onto the bed, of gentle hands removing his clothing. He licked at his own lips, bringing his hand up to touch them in wonder as he tasted his Master on them. A sweet hint of the fresh fruit and cream and the sharper taste of Qui-Gon himself -a tangy sensation with earthy undertones that he couldn't quite describe but knew that he would never forget.

He shivered and moaned, coming out of his reverie with a start as Qui-Gon began to clean him. A warm, wet tongue lapped at his penis and licked through the curls at his groin. Obi-Wan felt himself grow hard again as Qui-Gon worked slowly to remove the evidence of his orgasm. He reached out to touch his Master, finding bare skin beneath his hand and he realised that Qui-Gon had managed to undress them both and settle them onto the bed while Obi-Wan had been lost in the glow of Qui-Gon's kiss.

Obi-Wan tugged gently at his Master's shoulders and Qui-Gon moved upward until he was pressed against Obi-Wan's side from shoulder to toes. Qui-Gon propped his head in one hand and the other traced patterns on Obi-Wan's chest - words of love and joy in ancient runes and languages almost forgotten. Obi-Wan was acutely aware of his own renewed erection and the length of his Master's answering hardness pressing hotly against his hip.

He reached up, happiness and joy suffusing him as he touched Qui-Gon's face - the soft skin of cheeks giving way to the rougher scratch of beard.

"I love you," he said it softly and then repeated it loudly, laughter bubbling up from deep inside and spilling out. Qui-Gon lowered his head and took his mouth in another kiss, taking the sounds into himself. Following his instinct, Obi-Wan tugged at Qui-Gon's hips until the bigger man lay over him, large body pressing him into the mattress, their cocks meeting between their bodies.

"I love you, my Ob-" Qui-Gon gasped as Obi-Wan began to push his hips upwards, moving the hips above his own which slid their shafts one along the other. Obi-Wan half laughed again, the sound holding a sob within it as he was unable to contain the wonder and joy of being loved by and loving this man. He watched as Qui-Gon's face grew first lax and then tight as his orgasm approached. Obi-Wan bit his lip and held off his own orgasm as Qui-Gon threw his head back, mouth frozen open in pleasure. He felt the hot pulses of his Master's come against his stomach and the tremors that shook the body pressed so intimately to his own.

It was only when Qui-Gon sagged against him that Obi-Wan let go and his eyes squeezed shut as his own orgasm rippled through his body, more pulses warming his belly.

Qui-Gon shifted only enough to keep from crushing Obi-Wan and they lay holding each other, hands stroking flesh, mouths nuzzling gently. Both were far too awake to contemplate sleep - as if making love had created energy between them.

Several hours later Qui-Gon was fingering the loose hair on Obi-Wan's right side, teasing his skin with the ends, when he grew serious.

"Obi-Wan, I have a small red ribbon. It is all that is left of the first tie I had for my hair. It was a gift from my Master - his way of telling me I was ready for my trials. Most of it was lost when I had to improvise a tourniquet on my first solo mission, but I managed to salvage a small length, which I have held onto all these years. Would you wear my ribbon in your braid?"

Opening his mouth to speak, Obi-Wan found that he could not and simply nodded.

Qui-Gon bent over the bed and plucked his belt from the floor, pulling the small piece of ribbon from one of the pouches.

"I have always kept it near, as a reminder of my Master's love and pride in his padawan and of the uncertain nature of life. By giving it to you, I continue to keep it near and now it also is a reminder of our love for each other."

Qui-Gon sat at the edge of the bed, and Obi-Wan padded to the common room to retrieve the yellow bead and the leather tie, realising as he returned that the sun had given way to the moon, leaving the room bathed in silver and that his lover looked glorious in the pale light. Handing the items to his Master, he slipped to his knees between Qui-Gon's legs. Looking up, he gazed into the eyes of the man he loved as both Master and lover, waiting in peace for the words to begin. Qui-Gon gathered the hair, finger-brushing the strands before braiding them.

"One strand for the Master, one for the Padawan and one for the Force. The Force winds around us and we around it. It is our ally, our friend, our greatest defence. The Force is with us before we are, while we live and when we are no more. We are thrice bound."

"You have chosen the Force, as it has chosen you. The Force belongs to us and we to it. With our solemn vow we dedicate our lives to the Force. We give of ourselves and in return are filled by the power of the Force."

"We open ourselves to the Force and it bathes us in love. We love within the Force and we become one with ourselves and with it."

Tucking the braid behind Obi-Wan's ear and pushing the length over his shoulder, Qui-Gon reached down to take Obi-Wan's hands and tugged him up.

"Come to bed."

Bowing to the Duchess, Obi-Wan used a flicker of the Force to push the hair from his face and keep it out of his eyes. He pushed away his annoyance at the strands, following his Master up the gangplank of the ship that was to return them home. The gangplank withdrew with a faint hissing and the doors closed behind them, enveloping them in the sterile silence of their starship.

Qui-Gon stopped, breathing a heavy sigh of relief and Obi-Wan moved to his side, slipping under the arm his Master held up for him. He slid his own arm about Qui-Gon waist, worrying as the older man leaned slightly into his support. His Master was more tired that he'd let on.

Their latest mission had followed hot on the heels of the one before it and had taken several months to complete. Negotiations on the planet of Trilax involved less talk and more fighting than the word would suggest. It had been the duty of the two Jedi to protect the Duchess and the negotiators from harm as well as to make sure the proper form was being followed at all times. As a result either Obi-Wan or his Master had to be present for all meetings between any of the parties. They had taken turns sleeping -a paltry few hours each day, sometimes not even that- but had never had the chance to relax. Even time for meditation had been at a premium.

"If you would like to make your way to your quarters and buckle yourselves in, we'll get going," the pilot's voice came over the com system. "We're in for a bit of a bumpy ride until we hit hyperspace."

They silently made their way to the stern of the ship to their quarters. Settling into the chairs provided, they strapped themselves in, Obi-Wan fussing for a moment over his Master's buckles. Qui-Gon batted away his hands.

"Stop fretting."

"I'm worried about you."

"I'm fine." He ignored the pointed look that Obi-Wan was giving him, frowning instead as Obi-Wan's hair fell into his eyes yet again. "Or at least I will be after several days of sleep and we cut your hair - you look like a bantha, Padawan."

"Yes, Master. It has needed cutting since our last mission, but there has been no opportunity."

"I would have made the time," said Qui-Gon softly, reaching his hand out to push the bangs back from Obi-Wan's face, letting his hand follow the flow of hair from behind Obi-Wan's ear, gently caressing the braid. "And when was the last time we did this, hmm?"

"It has been far too long, Master."

"Well then, when we have achieved hyperspace, I will cut your hair and re-braid your plait."

"You should sleep first, Master. You are exhausted."

"All things in their proper order, my Obi-Wan. Now that our mission is finished, I would not be comfortable sleeping knowing you looked like this. And it has been too long since last we spoke of our place in the Force."

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan hit the com panel on his chair to open the link to their pilot. "We are ready to leave."

"Very well, sirs."

The engines roared noisily to life and the ship soon began to shake. It was not long before they hit hyperspace, the shaking of the ship dropping to an almost imperceptible tremor that was more of a hum than a movement. Obi-Wan quickly unbuckled himself, dropping to his knees in front of his Master and their hands met on the buckles at Qui-Gon's chest. His Master smiled down at him, relinquishing his grip on the buckle and caressing the backs of Obi-Wan's hands as the young man's nimble fingers unbound the clasps, releasing the buckles.

"I'm fine, Obi-Wan."

"It was not an easy mission and you do look tired, Master."

"It was rather taxing, wasn't it?" Qui-Gon finally admitted quietly.

Obi-Wan leaned up to press a soft kiss at the side of Qui-Gon's mouth before going to the packs and rummaging through them until he found the brush. He ran a hand over the soft bristles, letting them tickle his palms. Behind him a small sound of metal against stone began and he turned, finding that Qui-Gon had moved to sit on the bunk as he sharpened the small knife he used to cut Obi-Wan's hair.

Obi-Wan slid between his Master's legs, resting his hands on Qui-Gon's thighs, waiting quietly for his Master to begin. The sharp knife slid as effortlessly as always through his hair, Qui-Gon making short work of the extra length.

Cutting done, his Master undid his braid, giving him the bead, ribbon and leather tie for safekeeping. Slipping his hand into the strap of the brush, Qui-Gon began to brush out the short hair. Obi-Wan lifted his hand to the back of his head, fingering the longer length there - his lover's tail.

"Still there," he said with a small smile.

"You are still my lover, are you not?" Qui-Gon asked, quirking a brow at Obi-Wan.

"Not lately," replied Obi-Wan, without rancour, only stating the truth.

"We could do something about that," murmured Qui-Gon, his hands pulling the hair at the back of Obi-Wan's head together into a simple tail and tying it off.

"I thought you were tired?" Obi-Wan's hands belied his words, running softly along Qui-Gon's thighs, his eyes were bright with love and longing.

"I suddenly find myself revitalised," Qui-Gon murmured softly as he pulled on the tail at the back of Obi-Wan's head, tilting the young man's face up. He pressed a firm kiss on Obi-Wan's lips, pushing his tongue past soft lips to taste the sweet flavour of his lover. He pulled back as Obi-Wan began to surge forward.

"We should finish this first," Qui-Gon said, waving his hand at Obi-Wan's hair. Nodding, Obi-Wan settled back on his knees and tilted his head slightly to give his Master a better angle. He watched Qui-Gon's face intently as his Master slowly began to braid his hair, the familiar litany beginning.

"One strand for the Master, one for the Padawan and one for the Force. The Force winds around us and we around it. It is our ally, our friend, our greatest defence. The Force is with us before we are, while we live and when we are no more. We are thrice bound."

"You have chosen the Force, as it has chosen you. The Force belongs to us and we to it. With our solemn vow we dedicate our lives to the Force. We give of ourselves and in return are filled by the power of the Force."

"We open ourselves to the Force and it bathes us in love. We love within the Force and we become one with ourselves and with it. The Force is a living thing and we are alive within it. We cherish all living things within the Force."

Obi-Wan leaned forward, pressing his head against Qui-Gon's stomach, arms wrapping around his waist. Hands ran over his back - warm and soothing and at the same time making the pit of his stomach throb with anticipation. With a small burst of energy he surged upwards, pressing Qui-Gon back onto the bunk and climbing over his body to place gentle kisses on lips, nose and throat.

It took very little effort to get rid of their clothing; Obi-Wan removing his own before coaxing Qui-Gon's from his body. He left it all in a pile beside the bunk, leaving Qui-Gon only long enough to rummage through their bags for the small vial of oil he knew would be there.

Returning, he climbed again into the bunk, lying on his back and pulling the bigger man over him. Opening the bottle he began to coat Qui-Gon's fingers with the oil before pulling them to his opening.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon started to protest.

"Sh." Obi-Wan covered Qui-Gon's lips with his fingers. "We are both tired, love. But we need this. I need this. So just take me."

"Just this?" asked Qui-Gon as he slid one long finger deep into Obi-Wan's body.

"Yes!" Obi-Wan cried out, trembling hands rubbing oil onto Qui-Gon's erection. "Our every moment together is foreplay, Qui-Gon. What we do in our bed is merely an extension of it."

"When did you become so wise?"

Obi-Wan could not answer as one finger became two and then he was stretched and filled by his Master, his lover, his Qui-Gon.

They moved together with quiet abandon, bodies pulling apart and pressing close again. Obi-Wan wrapped his knees around Qui-Gon's waist and one arm around Qui-Gon's chest. The other he wound into Qui-Gon's hair, wrapping around the brown leather that held a portion of the older man's hair in place. Obi-Wan tugged gently on the lover's tail, pulling Qui-Gon's face to his own and their lips joined in a kiss of gentle passion.

And still their bodies moved together, orgasms building slowly before cresting and shuddering through them both in a soft wave.

Catching Qui-Gon as he collapsed, Obi-Wan shifted them both to their sides, bodies still twined together as they fell asleep.

"Your Majesty, if it would please you, my apprentice and I have some business to attend to before we go into battle today."

"Of course," answered Amidala gravely.

"If I could also impose upon your Majesty to see to Anakin while we are gone?"

"It would be our pleasure to do so." This time her face broke into a smile, reminding the Jedi that she was still quite young.

"Come, Padawan." Striding into the forest, Qui-Gon was followed by Obi-Wan. They walked silently together until they were some distance from the small camp that had been set up as the Queen's headquarters. Finding a patch of dry ground, Qui-Gon folded himself into a meditative pose and Obi-Wan knelt across from him in a similar pose. Sunlight streamed through leaves and branches, warming the damp swamp.

Leaning forward, Qui-Gon undid Obi-Wan's braid, holding the tie, ribbon and bead in one hand, the fingers of the other brushing the hair out.

"I am sorry, Obi-Wan, that my hasty words in the Council Chambers caused you pain."

Obi-Wan's hand came up and covered his Master's mouth. He shook his head once, his gaze locked to Qui-Gon's, eyes reflecting the green brilliance of the trees and underbrush around them.

"We have gone over this, Qui-Gon. The boy must be trained and you have always followed your own path - it makes you the man I love and respect. And I do love you and I know that you love me. I know that the boy will never replace me here." Obi-Wan placed his other hand over Qui-Gon's heart. Qui-Gon took both hands in his own.

"I do love you, my own Obi-Wan."

They held the pose for several minutes, the Force around them alive and warm with their love. But it was underlain with urgency and the knowledge that all too soon it would be time to go into battle. Wordlessly Obi-Wan shifted to give his Master easier access to the hair that he would weave into the symbol of their connection.

"One strand for the Master, one for the Padawan and one for the Force. The Force winds around us and we around it. It is our ally, our friend, our greatest defence. The Force is with us before we are, while we live and when we are no more. We are thrice bound."

"You have chosen the Force, as it has chosen you. The Force belongs to us and we to it. With our solemn vow we dedicate our lives to the Force. We give of ourselves and in return are filled by the power of the Force."

"We open ourselves to the Force and it bathes us in love. We love within the Force and we become one with ourselves and with it. The Force is a living thing and we are alive within it. We cherish all living things within the Force. We grow older and the Force grows with us, making us strong and sure, giving us the strength to do what is right, even when it is hard. We are the Force; the Force is us."

"It won't be long now before this is gone." His finger continued to stroke the braid which now reached almost to Obi-Wan's waist.

"I will miss it, Master."

"I also," said Qui-Gon softly, caressing the braid once again before grabbing the lover's tail at the back of Obi-Wan's head. "But we will always have this." Tilting Obi-Wan's head, he brought their lips together in a fierce kiss. Obi-Wan returned it greedily, letting his own hand find Qui-Gon's lover's tail, wrapping it for a moment around his fist. Pulling apart, they touched foreheads, resting against each other for a moment longer before standing and wrapping themselves in the calm presence of the Force.

Together they walked back towards the camp and the duties that awaited them.

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