Notes: I think one of the reasons that I like SW so much is that it has an idea of mythology that ties into my own beliefs, and the more that I look at it, the more clear and clouded it becomes, which is as it should be. It also has a lack of cynicism about it that is quite refreshing, I think, in a time when the concept of 'cynicism' has become practically synonymous - to devastating effect - with 'wit'.
Plus, the guys are cute. Really. Another in the chronology-challenged "Twin Destinies" series; a little heavy-handed and Freudian for my tastes, but what the hell, I'm throwing it out there anyway.
Pairing: Q/O
Posted: May 20, 1999
Rating: PG
Series: Fourth in "Twin Destinies"; sequel to "Careful", "The Final Lesson", and "Bonds"
Spoilers: Pre-"Phantom Menace", with spoilers for the movie.
Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi is troubled by a dream he cannot share with his Master.
Warnings: I don't use betas. :( Any mistakes are solely my fault and the fault of my *#^&@ spellcheck.

Obi-Wan Kenobi knelt exactly in the middle of the circle of light, eyes closed, concentrating on his breathing. He had been there, perfectly still, for nearly an hour, focusing all of his energy on his injuries and bringing the power of the living Force to heal himself. He knew that he was not alone; he could hear his Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, move around the room - almost soundlessly, so as not to disturb his pupil during his meditations - ever-patient, willing to wait until Obi-Wan was ready to speak to him. If necessary, Obi-Wan knew that he would wait all night.

His concentration was shifted by the presence of his Master, and he felt a twinge in his side, caused by the burns and bruising around his ribs. The glowing Force, which had been a bright white light around him, calming and healing, suddenly flickered and dimmed, and he knew that he could do no more.

He rose to his feet, trying not to show the pain that he felt; it was easier than he'd have believed, mostly because he was more attuned to the morass of conflicting emotions that he was also feeling than to his injuries. It would have been simple for him to give into his anger, but he resisted, his humiliation over the day's events strong enough without adding a lecture about his temper to the mix. He bowed his head to Qui-Gon, and prepared to leave the room, intending to head for the shower and then to bed. Before he reached the doorway and freedom for the night, Qui-Gon spoke.

"Padawan, wait."

He stopped without turning around. "With all due respect, Master," he said, with no anger in his voice, only resignation and sadness, "I don't think I can listen to a lecture right now." The pain was growing stronger, a dull ache in his side, and his posture drooped, favouring his right side, which was less injured.

Qui-Gon spoke with no offense. "It wasn't my intention to lecture you, Obi-Wan. I merely wanted to ask you a question."

Sighing, Obi-Wan turned around. The pain in his side was a sharp ache which resonated with every breath he took. "Yes, Master?"

"Why did you come after me in that battle when I asked you to stay behind and ready the ship? You could have been - " Qui-Gon didn't have a chance to say anything else, because Obi-Wan suddenly crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

The room swam before Obi-Wan's eyes when they opened next, but it was not the large, bright meditation room he last remembered standing in, but one of the smaller Palace bedrooms that he found himself in. As he suspected, he was not alone; Qui-Gon was sitting beside him, his hands on Obi-Wan's stomach, using the Force to heal his student's deep bruises. He closed his eyes and felt the gentle stroking of his Master's warm hands over his flesh, allowing their combined energy force to wash over his body, cleansing and healing him. His Master's gift for healing, like so many of his other gifts, was unsurpassed.

Obi-Wan lay passively on the bed, naked, on his back. It didn't ache as it had when he'd come back to the Palace that afternoon, after the nearly-disastrous fight with the slave merchants they had been following for several days, trying to recover the child of one of the high-ranking Senators, who had been kidnapped. He supposed that Qui-Gon had carried him to the bed and began healing him while he was unconscious. I must make a better patient asleep than awake, he thought wryly to himself.

"Indeed you do, Padawan," Qui-Gon said, quietly. It was at times such as these that their intense connection frightened Obi-Wan, a little. He knew that Qui-Gon had heard him as clearly as if he'd spoken his thoughts aloud. Sometimes he questioned the need for speech between them at all.

Qui-Gon rested his hands on Obi-Wan's stomach, still tender, but the bruising was visibly better and he was well on his way to being fully healed. "Why did you conceal your injury from me when we came back? You were very badly hurt - you might even have died - and yet I felt absolutely nothing from you from the time that you fell on the slave ship until you collapsed in the meditation room. No fear, no pain - nothing." His blue eyes were clouded with concern and a little of the self-reproach which Obi-Wan recognized as so like his own. "I didn't even consider until this very moment that you not feeling anything was hardly a normal reaction."

"I don't know what it was that made me conceal my feelings, Master," Obi-Wan said, turning his head against the pillow, closing his eyes tightly. The entire day had been such a mess, from start to finish, that he wished he could erase time for the past twenty-four hours, and forget it all.

"I think you do," Qui-Gon said, as he pulled the blanket up over Obi-Wan's body. He didn't push his Padawan to speak, but the combined effect of his uncompromising faith in his student with his seemingly limitless patience often had a similar effect.

Obi-Wan sighed, but didn't say anything. He was troubled, but he didn't know how to tell his Master that he could not explain his actions - not because he didn't want to, but because they didn't make sense even to himself.

Finally, Qui-Gon nodded. "All right, Padawan," he said, standing from the bed. "I'll leave you, now."

Obi-Wan caught his hand, suddenly not wanting to be alone. "Master - "

"You need rest, Obi-Wan. You're not quite healed yet, and rest is the best thing for you. Sleep, and I will bring you some food later on." He brushed his fingertips, the touch light as air, over his apprentice's eyelids, shutting them.

Within minutes, Obi-Wan was asleep. Qui-Gon watched him sleep for a few minutes, then left the room.

The dream caught Obi-Wan in its tight, terrifying grip after only a few moments of restless sleep. He stood, alone, lightsaber in his hand, in the stark bowels of a large ship, aware by the presence of the Force that there was something very close to him - something Dark, some breathtaking Evil - somewhere near, and yet out of sight. He walked, gradually hearing the sounds of a ferocious battle all around him, so all-pervasive that he was unsure of which direction he should move. It seemed, no matter which way he turned, that he could not get any closer to the sound which echoed around his ears; indeed, it didn't seem to Obi-Wan that he moved, at all. It was as if he were running the wrong way along a moving walk, and thus staying still in one spot.

The sounds of the unseen lightsaber battle grew in intensity, until he could almost smell the charred air where the blades struck. Still he could not see anything, but finally the sound seemed to focus, coming from right in front of him, instead of from all sides. He felt the Force flow around him, willing it to find this unseen evil and help to defeat it. It was difficult to focus on one spot, however, because the Dark coldness was ever-present - an oppressive feeling of evil which threatened to envelop both he and the unseen combatants he sought.

Then, finally, after what felt like forever, he did see them - two cloaked figures, engaged in the thick of battle, fighting for their very lives. The feeling of evil grew stronger as Obi-Wan approached, running as fast as he could. He couldn't get a clear view of either man, although one was clearly dressed - as he was - in the brown and tan hooded outfit which marked him as a fellow Jedi. As for his opponent, his long, floor-sweeping black cloak opened for only a second at a time as he moved, to reveal dark clothing underneath and the occasional flash of a lightsaber, but the hood - like that of the still-unknown Jedi - was pulled high and concealed his face entirely. The hair stood up on the back of Obi-Wan's neck, and still he ran and ran.

He was nearly to the Jedi's side when the decisive blow came from the lightsaber of the dark figure, cutting his opponent down. Obi-Wan froze, watching as the Jedi's deadened lightsaber fell to the ground with a sharp metallic clatter, followed by the far more disturbing sight of the Knight himself, doubled over and falling, almost in slow-motion, to the bare floor. As he did so, the cloak about his face fell back, finally revealing his identity to Obi-Wan: the defeated warrior, dying on the floor, was a mirror image of Obi-Wan himself.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came forth. His vocal cords were paralyzed, his legs refused to move forward. He didn't know how he managed to keep hold of his own glowing lightsaber in his severely trembling hands, but he did. As he looked down to make sure that he was still holding it, he realized that his hands were covered with blood, so thick it was dripping down to the floor.

Then, with the sickening smell of scorched flesh strong in his nostrils, he charged forward, grabbing the dark-clad figure by the shoulder and turning him, intent on knowing who it was he was about to kill, striking him a lethal blow and ripping free his cloak in the same instant.

As he, too, fell, Obi-Wan was startled to see the face of such evil for the first time. More horrifying than that, though, was the realization that the face that he looked into, like that of the fallen Jedi, was his own.

This time, when he screamed, the sound echoed long and loud throughout the ship.

Obi-Wan bolted upright on the bed, trembling and sweat-soaked, his breath coming in shuddering gasps. The bedroom was dark and empty. He stood and lit one of the lamps with shaking hands, needing to dispel some of the darkness around him, and set it beside the bed. The flickering light threw long shadows against the walls, calming him a little, and he crawled back into bed, pulling the blanket up over himself.

He desperately wanted to see Qui-Gon, but didn't dare venture out to find his Master until he had more control over his emotions. The dream left him - as it always did - raw and vulnerable, something that Qui-Gon would see right away. He needed time to re-build some of the fragile shields that still existed between himself and his Master. He closed his eyes and tried to even his breathing, drawing the Force like a cloak around himself, feeling its calming presence as the remaining fragments of the dream shattered in his mind.

When he opened his eyes again, his breath no longer echoed through the room, and his hands had stopped shaking. He stepped back, trying to dispassionately bring the dream into his mind, but found that he could not, still held by terrifying feelings of evil and darkness. He had been having the same dream for weeks, now, and it had been coming with greater and greater frequency; from once a week, when he first dreamt it, to once a night. It was a simple, random movement by one of the slavers this afternoon - as he raised his blaster and prepared to shoot at the Jedi warriors - that was caught by chance out of the corner of Obi-Wan's eye and remembered as something he had seen before, which caused him to freeze for the millisecond it took the man to shoot. The pain of the blaster-hit had roiled through his body, but he was able to suppress it, the remembered pain of his dream far more immediate in that second than the reality of his injury.

It was the first time the dream had affected him so strongly when he was awake, and he knew that he could no longer ignore it, and the possibility that it was something of his future that he was seeing. He longed for a deeper understanding, but, after his uncharacteristic failure in the fight, he was more convinced than ever that it was something that could not be shared with Qui-Gon. They relied on each other implicitly; if his Master knew that Obi-Wan could not even trust his own actions, anymore, he didn't know what he might do.

And then the answer came to him, so obvious that he didn't know why he hadn't considered it before. There were other Jedi Masters in the galaxy that he could seek out - ones he did not feel the need to shield from his growing sense of inner darkness, ones who would tell him the truth, without fail, and help him to understand the power of his dreams. He needed to go, find them, and find out what evil existed in himself - before it was too late.

He needed to go before the Council, now.

Qui-Gon watched his young apprentice fly their ship, his face a careful, placid mask. He hadn't been entirely surprised when Obi-Wan suggested a visit to the Jedi Temple, now that he knew that his young Padawan was struggling with something that he was unable to share with his Master. It disturbed him that the boy felt he could not talk to him, but he understood. There were times he himself felt that he was too close to Obi-Wan, when there were too few barriers between them. To share was one thing; to feel what another felt, something entirely different. It brought a burden which was entirely unique, and could be overwhelming; they both held shields against each other which could not be easily broken.

So when Obi-Wan asked to return to the temple, Qui-Gon agreed to the visit, without question. If someone there could help him with his struggle, so be it. Perhaps Master Yoda would be able to act where he could not.

He allowed himself to remember the last evening: what a surprise it had been to see Obi-Wan fall - first during battle, then again at the Palace, where the severity of his injuries finally became apparent. Qui-Gon had witnessed the blow his apprentice had taken but believed him implicitly when he insisted that he was all right. That he had been hit at all should have raised a warning to his Master: it was unlike Obi-Wan to miss something as obvious as a blaster shot, but his reaction at that moment had been a crucial fraction of a second off, and he missed deflecting it with his lightsaber, taking the brunt of the energy blast himself. Still, he fought on until they had achieved victory, and Qui-Gon hadn't considered the possibility that his student was more hurt than he seemed.

That's what had made the dark bruising and burns he uncovered after carrying an unconscious Obi-Wan to bed so disturbing. He'd bandaged himself crudely after they returned to the Palace, and had concentrated on healing himself with the living Force as Qui-Gon watched, unaware of the extent of his injuries, but it hadn't been enough. Never before had Obi-Wan refused to come to him for help, or healing, but lately there had been a palpable distance between them; this incident proved to Qui-Gon that it was greater than he had previously suspected.

He had always been quietly proud of his relationship with Obi-Wan; he and the sometimes headstrong young man had proven to be surprisingly well-suited for each other, despite his initial misgivings. Obi-Wan was a serious and studious young man - sometimes too serious - with a healthy rebellious streak which Qui-Gon at times surreptitiously encouraged in him. It allowed him the chance to learn from his student as he watched the young Jedi apprentice grow and discover his own path.

And then, of course, there was the undeniable physical attraction he felt for his Padawan. Once he'd realized the futility of fighting against his destiny with Obi-Wan, he loved him with a ferocity which was the antithesis of everything his Master had taught him. That it was also quietly shocking to the other Jedi Masters was a side-effect he was more than willing to accept. Although they did nothing to flaunt their relationship, it was obvious to anyone who cared to see that they were close in a way that went beyond the 'normal' Master/Padawan ties.

He knew that that physical love, while bonding them deeply, also meant that they were necessarily reticent at times with each other; there was an added care that they felt for each other that might not have been present had they not become lovers. He needed not to hurt Obi-Wan, and knew that his student felt the same, and that was at least part of the reason that he was hurting silently, now.

But it was as it had to be; he could not, no matter how he might have longed for it at times, be everything to his Padawan. He had no desire to have a lap-dog who relied on him for every thought and feeling that he experienced. Obi-Wan was his own man. This was not the first time - nor, Qui-Gon knew, would it be the last - that he would have to discover his own way through his pain.

Qui-Gon had been surprised when Obi-Wan came to him last night, after he had slept for several hours. He had been so deep in his thoughts that he hadn't realized - again - that his Padawan approached, until he felt the tug at his clothing as Obi-Wan bade him stand and undressed him. Although the young man still looked exhausted, he insisted on performing their near-nightly ritual: bathing his Master from a fount of cool water, then drying him and leading him to bed. They did not make love that night, but Qui-Gon held his Padawan close and listened to him breathe as he fell asleep.

Obi-Wan separated from his Master almost as soon as they arrived at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. He knew that they would have been expected; it was impossible for the Jedi not to know the movements of one of their own. Qui-Gon went before the Council on his own, to report on the results of their latest mission with the Senator's son; Obi-Wan waited alone in a small chamber to see Master Yoda.

The closer they had come to Coruscant, the more disturbed he had become, wondering just what exactly it was that he had come here to find, and whether or not he really wished to know what this dream was trying to tell him. Qui-Gon had always impressed upon him the importance of the living Force - the power of the moment - even as he knew that his Padawan was infused with some of the same power which other Jedi - such as Master Yoda - possessed: the ability to see what the future might bring. It was a difficult gift to understand, and to reconcile; the future was a flowing thing, not fixed in time, like the past. It changed and reacted to the will of the moment.

And yet, he could not ignore the dream. He had tried, but it would not leave him alone, and he became more and more convinced that he had to find out as much as he could about it, somehow. He almost wished for a dismissal - that Master Yoda would somehow re-assure him that it was nothing that he was seeing, that he was over-reacting to a bad feeling. Sometimes, a dream was merely a dream.

But one I am having over and over? He paced the floor, waiting, unable to contain his energies on something contemplative, as he should have done, especially in the presence of so many Jedi. The fluctuation in the Force was sure to be felt by each of them.

Finally, the door opened before him, and the old Master entered. Obi-Wan liked Master Yoda; beyond wisdom, he had a child-like sense of humour that gently tweaked at some of the more serious Masters at the Temple, and yet, because of his age and great strength, he was revered by all. He fell to one knee as the Master approached, and bowed his head.

"Wondering I have been when you would come, young Kenobi," Yoda said, as he sat down. "Expecting you before now, we were."

"We?" Obi-Wan asked, surprised.

"Others there are who have been feeling the conflict in you - and your Master."

Obi-Wan nodded his head, chastened. So Qui-Gon has felt it, too.

"Not usual it is for a Padawan to struggle with destiny. A Master, too," Yoda added. "Strong in you both, this conflict."

"Has he talked to you about it?"

"To me, no. To you he has not?"

Obi-Wan said nothing, just looked down.

"Difficulties there are between you? A different Master perhaps you seek?" His tone of voice gave away the teasing in the old Master's words.

"No," Obi-Wan said, quickly, flushing a little. "That isn't the problem, Master Yoda."

"Sure you are?"

"Yes." I hope so.

Yoda nodded his head, sagely. "Unsure, you are. Expected, it is. Tell me of this dream you have, Obi-Wan." Once again, Obi-Wan questioned the necessity of speech in the presence of a Jedi Master. Yoda smiled, slightly, and said, "Not your thoughts I am reading, young one. Your face tells all I need to know. Come," he said. "Sit. Tell this dream you have."

Obi-Wan walked through the dream, for the first time with his eyes open, startled at how deeply it still touched him even though he knew it was not really happening. His arms moved and his eyes closed as he struggled to remember each small nuance, hoping that the more detailed he was, the easier it would be for the Master listening intently to tell him what the dream foretold.

"I need to know, Master Yoda," he said, when he had finished. "Is this my future I am seeing? Is the Dark Side in my path?"

"In all our paths, it is," Yoda said, after a few moments of silence. "All around us, the Dark Side is. Temptation to give in, we all struggle with. The way of the Jedi not simple, is, for most. Failures there are, struggle."

"But my future - "

"Difficult to see," Yoda replied. "Always in motion is the future. Why so important this dream is to you?"

"I keep having it. I feel as though it is trying to tell me something, but I don't know what." Obi-Wan looked up at the Master at whose feet he sat. "I hoped that I could find something here to help me."

"Tell you what I did your Master, I will: the struggle within you is not the result of this dream. True, or not, future it is you see or not, your destiny you must accept - "

"But how can I accept something I don't understand? Something that seems to torment me like this?" Obi-Wan shook his head in frustration.

"Impulsive you are, stubborn," Yoda said, but with a smile. "Always questioning the Force you see. Your Master I see much in you. Your destiny it was to be with him, yes, and he with you. Struggle with it he did, as you do now with this. No comfort will you feel until you accept your destiny." He paused, and then said, "Question for you I have: Told you not your Master of this dream?"

"No," Obi-Wan said, shaking his head.

"Why?"

"I - couldn't."

"Could, yes. Would not. Ask again, I will: why?"

Obi-Wan sat silent, thinking. "I don't know," he said, finally. "I felt that I couldn't tell him what it was I saw. I thought it would hurt him in some way."

"Saw you your Master in your dream, you did?"

Obi-Wan's face wrinkled into a frown. "No," he said. "Everyone I saw was myself."

"Watching, you were?"

"Yes."

"Sure you are that the ones you saw were all you?"

Obi-Wan closed his eyes again, thinking back to his dream. He saw the faceless Jedi fall, his cloak revealing his face, but it was not clear to him as it had been before. "I think so," he said, troubled by the suggestion.

"Think too much, you do," Yoda scolded him. "Feel. Trust the Force. Look again, you must."

Obi-Wan sighed, and closed his eyes, trying to remember. With Yoda's help, he fell into a light trance, something like a waking dream. "I can hear it," he said, "the lightsaber battle. I can hear it, but I can't find the fighters. They're all around me." He paused, 'walking', his hands held out in front of him as if he was holding his lightsaber. "There's a coldness - it's like the Force, but not. It's so cold, it almost hurts."

He did not see Yoda nodding, his eyes still closed.

Obi-Wan continued. "I can hear that it's coming from right in front of me. I'm running, trying to find them, so I can help. I can hear it - I'm getting closer, or it's getting louder, I don't know which. I'm moving, but staying in one place."

The combatants appeared before him, so real that he shuddered, a little. "I can see them," he said, his voice thickening. "I can see them in front of me - a Jedi, I can tell by his clothing, and someone dark, so dark I can't see his face, hidden in his cloak. They're fighting to the death. I can't see who they are, it's not clear - " He stopped, and Yoda prodded him.

"See who it is, you can?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan said, "The Jedi has been struck by the Dark Knight. He's falling. I can see him. It's me." His eyes flew open, panicked, his breath coming in gasps.

"See, you must," Yoda said, putting his hands over Obi-Wan's eyes and closing them again. "Always will you have this dream, until you see and accept."

"I can't - " Obi-Wan said, shaking his head.

"You must." He waited until Obi-Wan nodded his head, his eyes closed, and then asked, "Yourself you see, fallen? Look closely."

"Yes," Obi-Wan said, nodding his head, and then stopped. He 'moved' closer to the fallen man, reached his hand out to touch him on the shoulder. As he did, the image before him took on a new face - instead of his own, it was that of his Master. "No!" he cried out, pulling back. "No!"

"Who it is you see?"

"Master Qui-Gon!" he shouted, "No!" He continued on, panicked, lashing out with his arms as if striking out with his lightsaber at the Dark one who had cut down his Master. Only Yoda's touch on his shoulder soothed him, and he sucked in deep lungsful of air.

"Calm, Obi-Wan," Yoda said. "Finish the dream. Your Master has fallen?"

"Yes - no," Obi-Wan said, suddenly. The figure in his dream, now still on the floor, had changed again. It was no longer his Master, fallen, but another - one he did not recognize. "It isn't him anymore."

"Who, then?"

"I don't know," he said, shaking his head. "An old man, with a white beard. I've never seen him before - but I feel that I know him."

Yoda nodded. "See you the Dark one also? You, it is?"

"Yes. No." He turned, seeking out the other, and once again the image flickered in Obi-Wan's mind, shifting from himself in the black clothing to another, dressed identically, and then a third, also in the same garb. He recognized neither of them, their faces unclear. "I don't know - it's dark. Someone Dark. Changing. I don't know who it is - who they are. It isn't me," he said. "It isn't me." The relief was plain in his voice, and he opened his eyes. "Did you change the dream for me, Master Yoda?" he asked.

"Change your dreams I cannot," Yoda said. "Only help you to see them for what they are, I can."

"Am I seeing the future?" Obi-Wan asked, his eyes bright. "Will my Master die this way? And the other Jedi? Will I watch, and be helpless? Is that my destiny, to do nothing?"

"One with the Force, we will all become," Yoda said. "Destiny of us all, it is, greatly to be wished. Troubled, you are, to lose your Master. Close to him, you are. Too close, some would say."

"Would you say so, Master Yoda?" Obi-Wan asked, with a tiny smile.

"I see in you your Master's destiny; in him, I see yours. The way it is, it should be. The way of your dreams? It is to be seen. Difficult," Yoda said, as he stood and walked to the doorway of the chamber. "Difficult the future always is."

He was still talking softly to himself as he left the room. Obi-Wan sat there, exhausted, pulled in on himself, his arms wrapped around his legs. But he felt - cleansed, somehow. He didn't know if it was his future he had seen, or his Master's, or both. But he knew, somehow, that he would not have that dream again. Yoda had lifted it like a heavy weight from his shoulders. It was no longer a part of his fears; it had become a part of him.

"Destiny," he said. "Difficult, it is."

Obi-Wan found Qui-Gon waiting for him outside the Council Chambers, on one of the large balconies that overlooked the enormous city of Coruscant. He stood back, for a moment, and watched the straight back of the tall man, listening to him thinking, not prying into those thoughts, just watching. It gave him great comfort to find his Master here, waiting for him to come. The shards of the dream were leaving him alone, now; he felt refreshed by this visit, and yet he knew that his destiny, like his Master's, did not lie here, in the Jedi Temple. They were meant to leave, once again, and continue on their journey, together.

Although he did not turn to look at his apprentice as Obi-Wan approached, Qui-Gon did speak. "Did you find what you were looking for, Padawan?"

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said, standing next to him against the balcony wall.

Qui-Gon nodded. "Good."

Obi-Wan knew that he would not ask; nothing more about it needed to be said, unless there was something that he himself wanted to share. He stared at his Master's profile until the older man turned to look at him, a question in his eyes. Obi-Wan just smiled. "We should go. We have many things to do."

"Yes," Qui-Gon agreed.

"Although, if we stay any longer, perhaps they will ask you to join the Council, Master," Obi-Wan said, with a completely straight face.

"Perhaps we should stay here and wait until that happens," Qui-Gon agreed, solemnly.

Obi-Wan laughed. "No, Master, I think that we are needed elsewhere in the galaxy. We have things to do, our path to follow."

"If you insist, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon caught the younger man's hand in his own. "I am pleased to see you looking so well," he said. "I have been worried about you."

"I know," Obi-Wan nodded. "I felt it. I'm sorry that I've worried you."

"It is nothing new to me, Padawan. You'll understand how it is, when you have an apprentice." He stroked Obi-Wan's cheek, gently; the younger man smiled at him, wanting a deeper caress and knowing that this was neither the time nor the place for such public displays of affection. Soon, they would be alone, and then he could take his fill of his Master, and give himself in return, unfettered by the distances between them, shortened once again.

Obi-Wan turned to head for the door leading from the balcony into the Temple. Before he took more than two steps, however, Qui-Gon caught his hand and pulled him back. The look in his Master's eye gave Obi-Wan pause, but he wasn't able to voice his question before Qui-Gon kissed him. Startled, it took Obi-Wan a moment to relax under his Master's touch.

When they parted, Qui-Gon was smiling at him. He ran his thumb over his Padawan's lips, making Obi-Wan smile, as well. "We should go," he repeated. Obi-Wan looked at the city falling before them, and nodded his head. "Yes," he said, as they walked into the Temple. "Where are we headed this time, Master?"

"There is a trade dispute on one of the small outlying planets, which requires our assistance. Hopefully, it will be a simple matter, easily handled."

"I hope you're right, Master," Obi-Wan said. "What's the name of this planet?"

"It is called Naboo," Qui-Gon said.

"Naboo," Obi-Wan repeated. "I've never heard of it."

"Neither have I. But at the very least, it will give us an opportunity to see something new."

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