Archive: Master_Apprentice, OKEB, QJEB, SWA-L, Jedi Hurtaholics and The Nesting Place (Anyone else just ask :-)
Category: AU, angst (no deaths), h/c
Disclaimer: The SW universe, the concept of Jedi, and 'The Boys' belong to Mr Lucas....but I'm having fun playing with them.
Feedback: Please!.....It was the very kind feedback I recieved after writing 'The Truth' which motivated me to write this....So please let me know if you like it :-)
Notes: Again much thanks and appreciation to my beta reader Kat -I would like to dedicate this story to her :-)
Also thank you to Kelly and Ana - for their encouragement and suggestions :-)
Pairing: Q/O
Rating: NC-17
Series: This is the sequel to my first story 'The Truth'; this story will make more sense (I hope) if that's read first. It can be found at the archives mentioned above, or just email me and I'll happily send it to you :-). I have started writing the third story in the series, its called 'Need' and should be finished within the next few weeks.
Spoilers: Some references to events in TPM, but again this was completed in rough draft before I saw the movie.
Summary: Set a short time after 'The Truth'. The newly Bonded Qui- Gon and Obi-Wan are sent on a difficult mission.

Chapter I

Qui-Gon stepped forward silently to stand beside his young apprentice. Obi-Wan was gazing out the ship's viewport waiting for his first real look at the planet of Neider. This was the closest anyone had been to the small pale green planet in recorded history. Yet, despite the magnitude of the occasion, the emotion Qui-Gon felt uppermost was apprehension. His responsibilities weighed heavily upon him. He knew that from this moment his actions and those of his young companion could effect the lives of millions people, and determine how favorably future historians would chronicle this event.

He glanced across to the young man at his side and suppressed a sigh. As much as he delighted in his Padawan's company he would much rather Obi-Wan had not ventured with him on this particular trip. Reminding himself that Obi-Wan was hardly a child, and no longer in need of his protection, did little good. He knew that the young man was more than capable of taking care of himself; the youth was after all only a few steps away from the final trials which would allow him to obtain the status of Jedi Knight. However, he was unable to shut down the protective urges the young man engendered in him; perhaps he reflected ruefully not altogether a bad thing considering Obi-Wan's penchant for getting into trouble.

Nor did he believe he was being overly cautious. Neider had succeeded in keeping itself completely isolated for millennia it didn't permit any form of outside contact and traders were denied permission to even approach the planet. There had been rare instances when the Neiderans had issued off-world communications but these had hardly been informative. To say that little was known of Neider and it's people was conservative statement at best. Therefore, when a communicay was sent by Neider expressing a desire to join the Republic, it had caused considerable excitement amongst the Senate, and not inconsiderable concern.

It was not the first such request from Neider. Many years earlier a similar communicay had been sent; but all attempts by the Senate to follow up on the request had been rebuffed. It had been impossible to ascertain why, but speculation was rife that practically the entire ruling family had been 'removed' and replaced with a less radical leadership.

The Senate was extremely anxious that, whatever the cause, it was not allowed to repeat itself. They wanted Neider brought into the Republic; if the planet was now stable enough. To achieve this, the Senate was prepared to go to considerable lengths. However, it was judged to be a little hasty, and perhaps unwise, to send in official representatives immediately; rumors of revolutions and assassinations were inclined to make senators extremely cautious.

Instead, the Senate called upon the Jedi for assistance. They needed to know if the Neideran's talk of joining the Republic was genuine, and if the current political climate was ready for such a step. It would also be beneficial to be able to learn something of the Neideran's ways and customs, whilst extending the Republic's hand in friendship. If all the signs were favorable the Jedi were to ensure that things progressed smoothly; addressing any concerns or issues the Neideran's might have. They were also requested to do what they could to ensure the survival of the present ruler - Prince Menatep.

The Jedi Council had issued the Senate's demands to Qui-Gon Jinn, and made an additional request of their own. It was not known if Neider had any knowledge of the Force, certainly it seemed very unlikely that they would be aware of the Jedi. Qui-Gon was therefore to act as an ambassador for the Order and to investigate if there was any possibility of a Neideran enrolling at the Academy in the future.

Qui-Gon knew Obi-Wan had accompanied him on dangerous and complex missions before, many times in fact. The unknown elements of this particular mission perhaps added to his worries, but he knew in his heart the chief reason for his increased agitation were the events which had preceded this trip.

His discovery of a child powerful with the Force had set in motion a chain of events which had come close to achieving the unthinkable - breaking his relationship with Obi-Wan. The resulting fall-out had very nearly destroyed them both. It had taken the traumatic events on Taogoa to make them both face the truth regarding what they really wanted from one another.

The uncovered truth was something unexpected and wonderful and had led to in his decision to ask Obi-Wan to Bond with him; a request that the younger man had joyfully accepted. Despite their fears, the relationship had been accepted by the Jedi Council; but as he predicted it had not been an easy path. Each of them were unclear and wary as to where the boundries of Master and Padawan ended and those of lovers began.

Difficult too since Obi-Wan was still suffering the aftershocks from his ordeal. Weeks of broken sleep had followed their return; the young man was plagued by recurrent night terrors, from which he would waken disorientated and terrified. During the day, Obi-Wan was alternately quick-tempered and moody, or weepy and remorseful.

Qui-Gon had done all that he could to comfort and reassure the youth, both as Master and lover, but worry and lack of sleep had begun to tell on his nerves; on one occasion he had snapped at Master Yoda, much to his mortification. Eventually, however, the nightmares lessened; the outbursts of anger and tears stopped, and Obi-Wan seemed restored to his former self.

Only those who knew the boy well could still see the scars left by his troubles. It had eroded some of the young man's self confidence and made him jumpy, quick to see shadows where there were none. However, the boy had shown himself to be strong and resilient and Qui-Gon was confident that in time Obi-Wan would regain his former spirits.

The physical side of their new relationship had faltered under the emotional strain, and through simple exhaustion. As they recovered it was resumed with renewed vigor. The younger man proving himself, as always, to be an attentive and eager student.

His memory was drawn back to the previous night. Their lovemaking had been slow and sweet, but with an underlying sorrow, knowing as they had that it would be the last such encounter for some time. Since no-one knew what relationships were permissible on Neider he had decided that they should travel there only as Master and Apprentice. There was a strong possibility that this mission could last for several months, perhaps even leading into years. They were both bound by their duty as Jedi to see it through however long it took.

Hence they had pleasured each other with an almost tangible sense of desperation, eager to prolong this last encounter; until, finally replete, they had lain languid and boneless in each other's arms. Qui-Gon had held his young love in silence; there were no words to express the pain they had both felt in the face of this forced separation. In the brief time they had been lovers, they had both been awed by the intensity of their encounters. Far more than an expression of carnal desire, their love making brought them together on a level far beyond the purely physical. To lose this connection felt akin to a bereavement.

They had ignored the arrival of the new day for as long as they could.When eventually they were forced to acknowledge the lateness of the hour, they had risen wordlessly; each trying to project an air of acceptance. Qui-Gon had struggled to contain his emotions; though despite his efforts he had felt certain that his pain had been transparent to the youth.

Obi-Wan had not even tried to conceal his own misery. The boy had moved around the cramped quarters mechanically, his face pale and drawn. Qui-Gon had watched his young love with growing concern; hoping that he and the Council had not miscalculated the extent of the young man's recovery.

Unbeknownst to Obi-Wan he had requested that the young man be excluded from the mission to Neider; the Council had acknowledged his concerns but had denied his wish. He had been deeply disappointed, and had expressed his misgivings later in a private audience with Master Yoda. The ancient Jedi had accepted his concerns enimitably, but had counselled him against stifling Obi-Wan, arguing that being overprotective would only hinder the young man.

Watching the young man dress he had wondered if he should have held out against the Council's demands. Bitterly, he had acknowledged that it was his own selfish desire not to be parted from Obi-Wan that had weakened his resolve. Of course, he thought wryly, even if he had succeeded in making the Council stand down, he would still have had to deal with Obi-Wan; who no doubt would have had something to say about being left behind.

As they had stood, ready to leave their quarters, he had drawn the young man into his arms. //I love you// Obi-Wan's eyes had shimmered with tears, but the youth had held them back determinedly. Beyond mind speak, the youth had sent a rush of emotions and images through their Bond link which had threatened to strip him of his control. He had closed his eyes in an attempt to rebuild his resolve.

When he had opened them Obi-Wan had lost the battle to contain his tears. He had kissed them away and sent his own message of love and comfort through their link. //We cannot be separated Obi-Wan, we are part of each other.// He had cupped the young man's face and willed the truth of his words with his eyes.//Nothing can separate us.// Obi- Wan had nodded, mutely reaching for him. They had shared one last bittersweet kiss, before they pulled away from one another, faces set into Jedi impassivity, and left their quarters as Master and Padawan.

Chapter II

Now he stood, close enough to touch his lover but unable to do so. Watching as the once distant planet of Neider drew ever closer. He tried to push away his sense of foreboding; telling himself their troubles had been faced and overcome, they were secure in their Bond, separation, however difficult to endure, could do nothing to weaken it. Moreover, he knew they were an acceptable choice for this task. They were experienced in diplomatic matters, they had undertaken countless similar missions and, perhaps equally important, they were, apparently physically similar to the Neiderans.

However, as he exchanged a glance with his young lover he realized he was not alone in his misgivings; knowing that Obi-Wan shared his anxieties only added to his sense of unease. He knew the young man was force sensitive to subtle shifts in the future; on occasion Obi-Wan had proven himself to be alarmingly prophetic. Usually he tried to discourage the youth from speculating on such feelings, encouraging the boy to focus upon the living moment. Yet he knew this insight was one of Obi-Wan's strengths, and he decided on this particular mission to pay careful heed to anything the young man sensed.

Their ship had been provided, complete with a somewhat surly pilot, by the Senate, and was to leave Neider as soon as they had disembarked. Qui-Gon was not happy about it but it was one of the Neideran's stipulations for their visit. It seemed they were extremely reluctant to have any foreign craft upon their soil for any longer than was strictly necessary. Privately Qui-Gon didn't feel such xenophobic leanings boded well for any future negotiations.

As the little craft steered itself through the swirling white clouds encircling the planet, some of Obi-Wan's youthful eagerness began to show; as the youth stood with his face practically pressed up against the viewport..

"What do you think the Neideran's will be like...Master." Qui-Gon pretended not to notice the faltering use of his title and instead turned to answer his Padawan.

"Since I know as much as you Obi-Wan I assume you are inviting me to speculate?"

Obi-Wan had the grace to blush a little, but quickly dismissed it with a shrug and a smile. "Well..."

Qui-Gon shook his head in mock exasperation. "You should know by now my Padawan I do not encourage gossip-"

Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow in an unconscious imitation of his Master.

"However,î he continued with a smile and lowered his tone in the manner of a shared confidence, "I am led to believe that they are very similar to most other humanoid races."

Obi-wan looked frustrated; he had evidently hoped for a little more in the way of information. Qui-Gon felt his spirits lift a little at the young man's expression. He chuckled lightly,"Patience, Obi-Wan, your questions will be answered soon enough." Obi-Wan still looked disgruntled but nodded.

Qui-Gon grew serious again as he remembered the need for discretion on this trip and he decided to press the point upon his young Padawan. "Remember, Obi-Wan, they may not be aware of the force, we cannot know how they may react to such a revelation. It is important that we do nothing which might alarm them."

The young man nodded in the manner of someone who had heard this particular lecture before. Qui-Gon set his features more sternly, this was no trivial matter, it was vital Obi-Wan understood how much weighed upon their acceptance. "You are aware, Obi-Wan, that on some worlds those gifted with the force are regarded with fear and suspicion." The young man's expression became grave, and Qui-Gon saw that he had made his point. On less enlightened worlds than Coruscant those strong with the Force were still being driven out of their homes; and in some cases put to death.

They were under strict instructions to conceal their Jedi abilities until it was safe to do otherwise. Not an easy task when one's entire life was structured around those abilities. Still, it would not be the first time he and Obi-Wan had been obliged to do so, and he was reasonably confident that it would not be a problem here.

"Will we be able to keep our lightsabers Master?" Obi-Wan voiced one of his own concerns. He did not want to surrender them if it could be avoided. "We shall see Obi-Wan." He laid a hand across the young man's neck and gave a gentle squeeze of reassurance. "Hopefully they will not object, I believe the Neideran's carry weapons as a matter of dress code." He smiled as the young man visibly perked up at this piece of 'gossip'.

As the youth moved back into his casual touch he allowed his fingers to enjoy the brief sensation of warm, bare skin, and soft, spiky hair before reluctantly letting his hand fall away. He felt a flutter of regret from Obi-Wan as the physical contact was broken and hoped that this mission would not last too long.

Chapter III

The ship came to land with a slight jolt on a raised platform a short distance from what appeared to be a large city. As Qui-Gon led the way down the ramp, his eyes were drawn to a small delegation hurrying towards them along a high, narrow walkway.

They were a colorful group, fourteen men resplendently dressed in gold and green livery, carrying lances; led by a tall spindly legged man, clothed in eyecatching scarlet, embellished with an excess of heavy golden brocade. This remarkable outfit was topped off with the largest hat Qui-Gon had ever seen; an enormous floppy brimmed affair decorated with the black plumage of some exotic bird.

The vibrant fellow stopped before them. Removing his hat with a flourish he swept down into an impressively deep bow and a veritable cascade of waist length coppery curls tumbled forward, completely covering his face. Which was perhaps why he waited until he stood up again before addressing them both.

"Gentlemen of the Republic, on behalf of my people I welcome you to Neider. I am Ank-a-Junubae, Herald to his most exalted highness Prince Menatep." The Neideran swept forward in another brief bow before replacing his hat.

Qui-Gon inclined his head in a more restrained greeting. 'Thank you...ah ... Ank-a-Junubae?-" He hesitated over the correct form of address but the Neideran quickly cut in.

"Please, please call me Junubae."

"Junubae," Qui-Gon smiled "I am Master Qui-Gon Jinn, this is my companion Obi-Wan Kenobi." He watched the Neideran's eyes widen as the Herald looked over his shoulder to see Obi-Wan.

"Ah....yes...greetings to you also..." The Herald's voice trailed off a little. Qui-Gon tried not to show his concern at the Neideran's puzzling reaction. He glanced back to see if the young man was bothered by it. However, if his Padawan's slightly open mouth was any indication, the youth was too taken aback by the flamboyant Neideran's to have noticed.

The Neideran seem to recollect himself. "Ah....yes....well....we should make our way to the Palace, his exalted highness expressed his desire to see you immediately upon your safe arrival." Pondering slightly on the exact meaning behind the Herald's use of the word 'safe,' Qui-Gon gave his awestruck apprentice a slight tug to get him underway, and together they followed the Neideran towards the city.

Obi-Wan's eyebrows rose a little when the armed escort quickly moved in to completely surround them. Qui-Gon felt a little disquieted himself but tried not to let his Padawan see it. However he knew his calm visage faltered a little as he heard their ship take off behind them; and, like Obi-Wan, he was unable to prevent himself from following it's progress as it disappeared up into the clouds and out of sight.

Chapter IV

The walkway was an impressive distance above the city and seemed to directly traverse it, though whatever spectacular view there may have been was somewhat marred by the barricade of guards. Qui-Gon was able to make out the occasional glistening dome, and turreted tower; but he knew Obi-Wan was frustrated in his attempts to see much of anything. As high up as they were, there was no breeze to speak of though the air was comfortably cool. Neider's pale sun provided a gentle warmth as it sparkled off golden rooftops and illuminated white balustrades with dazzling brightness.

The general feeling of comfort and prosperity was further illustrated upon their arrival at the Palace. As they were led through vast rooms and huge halls with high painted ceilings, the guards fell back a little allowing them better glimpses of the breathtaking splendor. The palace itself was pleasantly decorated in cool, pale greens, but scarcely a space remained that wasn't hung with some enormous painting or rich tapestry creating an odd juxtaposition between taste and gaudy over indulgence.

The people they passed were no less splendid. They were positively dazzling in a myriad of resplendent reds, greens, blues and purples, all heavily draped with gold and silver brocade. Some wore their hair long and flowing like the Herald, others had crafted it up into high elaborate styles which looked extremely heavy and uncomfortable.

However, Qui-Gon was quickly beginning to realize why his Padawan was drawing so much attention. Every Neideran they passed had long hair, in some cases falling well past their waists; men, woman, even the guards, who wore their's in slightly more somber braids.

With his close cropped style and Padawan braid, Obi-Wan was an object of much curiosity. Feeling a little uneasy, Qui-Gon unconsciously moved closer to his love. He was pleased and relieved to note that, despite looking a little uncomfortable, Obi-Wan was bearing up well under the Neideran's intense scrutiny.

Junubae noticed their discomfort and attempted to offer an explanation. "I do hope you will forgive our curiosity." The Herald twitched a little. "You must understand it is very unusual to see a...ah...a young man with such... er... ah... short...hair." He smiled and then looked a little embarrassed, shrugging as though to dismiss his own attempt at an apology.

Qui-Gon met his young lover's gaze to offer wordless reassurance, and was pleased to see his Padawan now looked more bemused than bothered. It would explain, he supposed, why he was attracting less attention; it would seem his hair was slightly more acceptable to the Neideran's. However, the Jedi's somber dress also seemed to be something of an eyebrow raiser. One young Neideran dandy lost his composure entirely and had to hide his laughter behind his companion's painted fan.

Qui-Gon was not offended as Jedi placed little store on personal image. He simply walked on in dignified silence behind the Herald. His main concern was Obi-Wan, whose own self image was a little more fragile. He sincerely hoped the boy would remember not to take affront, and desist from responding to any perceived insult.

Their escort eventually stopped before two vast, ornately gilded doors. Twelve of the guards lined up to one side, while the remaining two struggled to heave them open. As soon as a wide enough gap emerged the Herald hurried through while casting an anxious glance back over his shoulder to ensure they were following. Qui-Gon waited until Obi- Wan drew level with him, then proceeded after their colorful guide.

Chapter V

They entered a huge chamber. Light and airy, it was considerably less gaudy than the previous rooms; yet somehow the contrast in decor only served to emphasize the sense of grandeur it projected. There was a small throng of people already in the room; presumably Neider's chief nobility and officials. They were dressed even more splendidly than the Neideran's they had encountered up to now; one individual in particular seemed to stagger under the weight of an extraordinarily bejewelled sash.

Only two figures stood out amidst all this gaudy finery, on a slightly raised dais at the far end of the room. The Herald approached them, kneeling at the steps which led up to the dais. Removing his hat, Junubae bowed his head respectfully before addressing the seated individual. "Your most splendid highness I present to you the representatives of the Republic." Junubae was positively breathless in his excitement. He stood his head still dipped, and waved an arm back towards the Jedi. "Master Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Slowly the seated man stood and walked to the edge of the dias; he paused there a moment and then gracefully took the handful of steps to the main floor. He came to a standstill a few paces away and regarded them critically. Realizing at once that this was Prince Menatep, Qui-Gon dropped gracefully to one knee, Obi-Wan mirroring his response. Unsure if it was correct to address the Prince directly, Qui-Gon decided to remain silent for the moment. He tensed a little as the Prince stepped forward and laid his hands upon his shoulders. "Please, please, rise up my friends." Qui-Gon allowed himself to be guided to his feet and found himself looking directly into the smiling face of the ruling Prince of Neider.

The Prince was almost his equal in height, though slightly more slender in build. His hair was rich glossy black; unmarked by gray, it flowed over his shoulders in a cascade of ringlets. Menatep's features were strong rather than handsome: wide flat cheekbones, a slightly hooked nose, and thin lipped mouth. However, these were complimented by a fine unlined complexion, so pale as to be almost white; and an air of keen intelligence and good humor that shone out through lively hazel eyes. It was impossible to judge his exact age, though somehow despite the lack of visible signs, Qui-Gon felt the Prince was probably close to his own years in number.

In the face of such genuine welcoming warmth he felt his own features relax into a smile. The Prince nodded approvingly, and turned his gaze to Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon was close enough to catch the faint glimmer of surprise in the Prince's eyes, though Menatep was evidently an experienced and skilled enough statesman not to allow it to show upon his face. As he watched the surprise became amusement, which was also quickly masked.

When the Prince turned back to Qui-Gon there was nothing in his expression to suggest that he had been startled by Obi-Wan's appearance.

"So you are...Jedi?" One elegant eyebrow rose in polite enquiry as to the correct pronunciation of the title.

"Yes, your highness."

The prince nodded. "I confess I know little of your order," he smiled and looked intently at them both. "Perhaps you will tell me all about them when we dine this evening." There was no attempt to phrase it as a question, and Qui-Gon was quickly reminded that personable or not this was still a Prince. "I will do what I can to answer any of your highness's questions." The prince nodded, apparently satisfied with his reply.

Moving away from Qui-Gon a little, the Prince turned back towards the dias and motioned for the remaining figure to come down. It was a young man apparently close to Obi-Wan in age, his features similar enough to the Princes' to place him as a close relative. Like the Prince he wore strikingly different dress. There was no glittering brocade or elaborate trim, instead the cut of the cloth was almost somber, forming a close fitting suit. However, it was the material the garment was made of which indicated it's obvious rarity. At first glance it appeared dark, a deep blue or possibly even black; but as the light hit the weave it glittered like a butterfly's wing, shimmering with a myriad of reflected shades - blues, greens, purples. It drew a sharp gasp from Obi-Wan.

However, unlike the Prince, this young man's features lacked even a modicum of good humor; his expression proud, his eyes dark and sullen. The Prince seemed not to notice as he proudly introduced the boy to them

"My son and heir Prince Tiye." The young Prince gave Qui-Gon a haughty smile, which almost became a smirk as he looked at Obi- Wan. "The Jedi are a religious sect then?" He spoke with a slight affectation.

His father frowned. "Tiye!"

The young man's composure faltered a little under his father's disapproval, and he turned away scowling. "You must forgive my son." The Prince shook his head in mild annoyance, before attempting to explain. "He meant no offence by his question."

"There was none taken your highness, but to answer the prince's question, no we are not a religious order."

The Prince smiled, apparently relieved that Qui-Gon had not felt insulted. "Ah you are not...I see...well you must understand it was a natural enough assumption." Menatep hesitated as though unsure whether or not to explain further. "It is just that....well amongst my people only those in religious orders wear their hair so..erm..short, and dress so...er...ah...soberly." To Qui-Gon's surprise the Prince flushed and seemed almost embarrassed by his next words. "On Neider our religious representatives are...erm... eunuchs," at Qui-Gon's raised brows the Prince hurriedly added, "but please understand my son was not implying..." His voice trailed off a little before he resumed his mantle of princely composure, giving an elegant little shrug to show he too meant no offence by his words.

Qui-Gon felt a flicker of something akin to amusement. "I understand." He felt some of the tension leave the room with his reply. He turned to Obi-Wan only to find the young man was glowering at Prince Tiye, who was glaring back with equal animosity. It seemed his Padawan was under no illusion as to exactly what the young prince had meant by his comment.

Now was certainly not the time or place for such adolescent posturing, besides which he expected better of his Padawan. He sent a dart of sensor through their link, //Obi-Wan!// The youth stiffened and then dropped his gaze, his face suffused with a mixture of embarrassment and resentment. Qui-Gon decided to have words with his young apprentice later.

The Prince caught the slight distraction but mistook it's cause. "But forgive me, here I am lecturing you on matters which can wait until you are fed and rested. I will have Junubae show you to your rooms." The Herald scuttled forward, curls bobbing wildly. "I will see you both at dinner."

It was in effect a dismissal, and if there was any doubt that their audience was over, it disappeared with the immediate departure of Menatep and his son. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan took their lead from the others in the room and bowed low as the two Princes passed by them.

When the monarch and his son had left, the Herald turned his attention back to the Jedi. "If you will follow me gentleman." Qui-Gon nodded his assent and Junubae spun away and strode off back towards the outer corridor.

The guards were still waiting outside the chamber and stepped smartly back into position as they set off towards their room. Qui-Gon was a little concerned at the need for a continual armed presence. Was it simply the sign of an attentive host, or just an indication of how little the Neideran's trusted them; more alarming was the thought that they were necessary for their protection. He had neither seen nor felt anything to indicate that the Neideran's were hostile to their presence, but then so far they had only been privy to the enclosed society of the palace, which would be unlikely to tolerate any insurrections.

Qui-Gon did not place much store on rumors and speculation, but in the case of Neider there was very little else to go upon. Unwillingly, he found himself recalling the story of the last royal household to attempt to instigate change; they had apparently been assassinated by their own armed guard. He was pleased that as yet no attempt had been made to relieve them of their lightsabers. He hastened to check that Obi-Wan had not picked up on his concerns; even between Bonded Jedi it was still possible to shield thoughts and emotions, though it required greater skill and concentration. However, he quickly realized any effort on his part was unnecessary; the young man was tightly closed off to him, a slight furrow indicating the demand such an action placed upon him.

Qui-Gon felt a twinge of unease; he knew Obi-Wan reacted badly when rebuked, the young man always took it very much to heart. This worrying tendency to over-react to any perceived sense of failure had steadily increased since their troubles after the mission to Naboo. However, he had hoped that being Bonded would reduce Obi-Wan's almost overwhelming need to be a perfect Padawan. Unfortunately, it was beginning to seem that the reverse was true.

Qui-Gon studied the familiar features in an attempt to determine the cause of Obi-Wan's withdrawal. However, he was unable to decide if the tight mouth and set jaw was a sullen response to being scolded, or as a result of self-recrimination.

He was so caught up in his appraisal, that when the Neideran suddenly stopped and twirled around to face them, he almost collided with him.

"Your rooms gentlemen. Your's are here on the left sir, " he indicated Qui-Gon's selection with a graceful sweep of his arm. Then the Herald spun around to address Obi-Wan, forcing Qui-Gon to take a hasty step back to avoid being poked in the eye by a large black hat feather. "And your's, sir, are just here" Junubae pointed to a second doorway directly across the hall from Qui-Gon's rooms. "We hope that they are suitable for your needs but please do not hesitate to ask for anything else you might require."

"Thank you Junubae, I am sure they will be more than sufficient."

The Neideran practically bounced under Qui-Gon's simple gratitude. "Please refresh yourselves and rest a little before dinner. I will call for you then." The Herald gave another deep bow, the execution of which was somewhat marred by the close proximity of the guards, who had positioned themselves down either side of the corridor. "Until dinner gentlemen." Then, with a dramatic flourish he whirled away, a blur of scarlet hastening off to whatever duties called him.

The guards remained in place; obviously their orders were to stay with the Jedi where-ever. Qui-Gon turned back to his Padawan to find the young man waiting expectantly. "Go to your rooms Obi-Wan, I will join you later." He smiled but the youth just nodded in a somewhat weary manner and turned to enter his suite. Qui-Gon reached out a hand to stall him. //Are you alright Obi-Wan?// he let his concern show in his eyes. The boy's face relaxed a little and the youth attempted a small smile of his own. //Yes Master, I am fine.// Unconvinced, but slightly mollified by Obi-Wan's mental reply, Qui- Gon released the young man's arm and they took their leave of one another

Chapter VI

To Qui-Gon's relief his quarters had been decorated with relative restraint. The main color scheme consisted of a pale blue and a reasonably subdued yellow; there were a few pictures, one medium sized tapestry, and a large sculpture, which was, as he glanced at it quite..... unidentifiable.

He wandered into the bathroom, it was emerald green and silver. With a slight grimace, he filled a brilliant purple bowl with water and used it to freshen up a little. Once he was done and had finished dabbing his face dry on a vivid velvet towel, he left to call on Obi-Wan.

The guards paid him no mind as he crossed the corridor and slipped into his Padawan's room. As with his own quarters the room was fairly plain; predominantly lilac with only the occasional flourish of cobalt blue. His gaze was drawn to the window seat where Obi-Wan sat, his legs tucked up, chin resting on the tops of his knees as he looked out across the palace rooftops. The Padawan looked very young, lost and unhappy.

Qui-Gon felt something twist inside him as he fought back the sudden urge to rush across the room and gather his young love into his arms. How was it possible that the bond of Master and Apprentice had once been enough? It felt so...inadequate, he had to battle against the almost instinctive urge to reach out for more.

He still believed his decision to revert to their Master and Apprentice status for this mission was correct. They had no way of knowing how closely they would be observed on Neider, and it seemed wiser not to risk a lapsed touch or look. Not with so much depending on their being accepted by the Neiderans. Still, Qui-Gon reflected bitterly, it was one thing to have make such a decision and quite another to have to put it into practice.

"Obi-Wan." He spoke softly so as not to startle the youth, but Obi- Wan still jumped. Qui-Gon felt a flicker of alarm; under normal circumstances it was almost impossible to catch his Padawan off guard, and on this occasion he had not even been trying - quite the opposite in fact.

The young man scrambled hastily to his feet, "Master I-" The boy broke off and stood uneasily, one hand straying down to fiddle with the hem of his tunic. Qui-Gon experienced an unexpected pang upon hearing the use of his formal title, instead of the more familiar 'Qui- Gon' he had become accustomed to when they were alone.

"I...I am sorry Master." Recrimination. The young man exhaled heavily before continuing onwards. "I...I shouldn't have let the Prince's words effect me."

Qui-Gon nodded gravely. "No, Obi-Wan, you should not." Youthful shoulders slumped at his words.

With a soft sigh he crossed the room. Placing one hand upon a shoulder in comfort, he used the other to tilt the young man's gaze to his. He was disturbed by the maelstorm of emotions swirling in gray- green depths. "There is no real harm done Obi-Wan, just...just try not to let anything that young man might say provoke you."

"No Master." A subdued tone, the youth opened his mouth as if to add something, but closed it again without speaking and lowered his eyes.

"I understand Obi-Wan." Gray-green glanced back at him with a hint of disbelief. "I know the young Prince seems a little....difficult-"

"Difficult?!" Obi-Wan's brows shot up as his temper flared. "Difficult...he's a...a-"

"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon cut in sternly, and his Padawan fell silent. Though worryingly he noted the clenched fists held tightly at the young man's sides.

Qui-Gon frowned, this show of temper over something so trivial alarmed him, drawing his mind back to similar petulant displays on Taogoa. He had hoped Obi-Wan was past this, the youth had certainly seemed calm enough during the last few weeks on Coruscant. He was beginning to wonder if his fears had not been overstated after-all. It was becoming steadily more apparent that Obi-Wan was still far from himself, and without the closeness they had enjoyed since becoming Bonded the cracks were resurfacing. Cursing himself anew for allowing Obi-Wan to accompany him, he drew the boy to him in a chaste embrace.

A sharp knock made him step back guiltily; with his attention drawn towards the door he missed the brief flash of pain that darted across his Padawan's face.

It was the Herald Junubae. "Ah gentlemen, I am here to escort you to dinner, his highness the Prince awaits the pleasure of your company."

Qui-Gon nodded his assent, waited until Obi-Wan had slipped back into his robe, then followed the Herald out into the hallway, where, upon collecting their armed escort, they proceeded to the dining hall.

Chapter VII

Thankfully, it seemed the Neideran's tendency towards over elaboration didn't extend to their diet. Dinner proved to be a relatively simple affair of cold meats, pies, and savory jellies.The only monument to the exotic was a dramatic centerpiece, sculptured from ice. It was an elegant, long necked bird, decorated with real feathers, perhaps taken from the original creature.

The conversation too was kept relatively light; it seemed the Prince had given orders that the evening discourse was to be an informal affair. Menatep occupied the head of the table with his son seated to his right. The young prince was in the company of a group of noblemen of a similar age. They conversed amongst themselves, occasionally glancing across at Obi-Wan before whispering or laughing softly.

Qui-Gon could sense his Padawan's discomfort and attempted to reach out with the force to calm the boy only to find that Obi-Wan was still shutting him out. He could force his way past Obi-Wan's defenses but was loathe to do so; instead he settled for offering a smile of reassurance when Obi-Wan looked his way. He was pleased when the young man offered a small smile in return.

His attention was drawn away from his Padawan as Prince Menatep explained how he had spent many years preparing his people for this encounter. "You must not think this is a step I take lightly, the happiness of my people is everything to me."

"Your people welcome change then, your highness?" Qui-Gon deliberately kept his tone light, however he was keen to learn if the majority of the Neideran's supported their Prince. From the looks exchanged between some of the nobility around the table, he didn't feel it was necessarily the case.

Indeed, his suspicions were confirmed by the slight frown which formed upon the smooth brow. "Sadly there are...factions who do not accept the inevitability of change." The Prince met Qui-Gon's eyes, his countenance grave. "There are those who believe our Gods set Neider aside for it's chosen people. They fear that to allow outsiders to come here is a blasphemy and will invoke the anger of our God."

The Prince sat back with a sigh, his years suddenly more apparent. "Please understand these...people are a small minority." His lips pursed in disgust. "My concern is that these handful of fanatics are not allowed to spread their dissent."

"I understand your highness, but if they are as dedicated to their beliefs as you say, how do you propose to persuade them that they have nothing to fear?"

Menatep's eyes glittered as he leant forward to reply to Qui-Gon's question. Some of the other guests shifted uneasily, it seemed that whatever the Prince's plan, it did not sit well with all those present.

"I have arranged for us to tour the city tomorrow. Your appearance will do much to dispel the rumors of off-worlders being beasts who will devour our children and paint the streets with our blood." Qui- Gon wondered if the Prince was quoting from the so-called-fanatics. "We will also pay a visit to the Temple."

The Neider noblemen exchanged furtive looks; this it appeared was the sticking point. Qui-Gon decided to probe a little deeper.

"Temple, your highness?"

Menatep nodded somewhat impatiently. "Yes, yes, the temple of Akhenaar, the Protector of Neider." The Prince selected a sweetmeat at random and picked at it delicately. "The more enlightened amongst my people have come to see Akhenaar as a benevolent God who simply watches over them. However, there are those who still follow the old ways." He sniffed in annoyance. "Unfortunately, many of the priests do little to dispel such archaic beliefs."

Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan stiffen at the mention of the priests - no doubt recalling Prince Tiye's earlier comments. He tried to give the young man a warning glance, but his Padawan's eyes were firmly fixed on the plate in front of him, toying listlessly with the food upon it.

The Prince reached for another sweetmeat. "I hope an offering will improve their disposition." That drew Qui-Gon's attention.

"An....offering your highness?"

The Prince waived his hand dismissively. "Oh, anything will surface. I do not know how it is on other worlds, but here our priests are forbidden to work outside their temple. They rely entirely upon the offerings of the people to provide for their needs."

Qui-Gon felt a knot of anxiety building. "I am not sure your highness that we have any gift worth giving." The Prince raised an eyebrow and Qui-Gon hurried to explain. "It is not the custom for Jedi to acquire material possessions, we carry very little in the way of belongings."

Menatep seemed to understand. "Ah..well...not to worry I am sure we can provide something appropriate."

"Thank you your highness."

The Prince nodded vaguely. "Would you say, Obi-Wan Kenobi, that you are close in age to my son?" Qui-Gon caught a brief flash of alarm through their link as Obi-Wan's shields wavered slightly. However, the youth quickly overcame his surprise at being addressed.

"I....I am not sure your highness." Menatep inspected the Padawan closely.

"Hmm, I think perhaps you are a little older, but close enough." Obi- Wan shared a puzzled look with Qui-Gon Close enough for what? "I would like it if you would spend some time with Prince Tiye during your stay here. I am sure my son would benefit.î

Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan stiffen at the Prince's words, though much to his relief the young man did not allow his true feelings show. "I would be...honored, your highness." Prince Menatep didn't appear to notice the slight pause. Qui-Gon wondered if Menatep was really unaware of the undercurrents between the two young men; or, if used to his demands being met, he simply disregarded it.

His glance slid over to the young man beside Menatep, and he felt a stirring of unease. Eyes dark with ill-concealed malice, Prince Tiye was glaring at Obi-Wan. Turning back to his Padawan, Qui-Gon was disturbed to see Obi-Wan meeting the hostility in the prince's gaze measure for measure. However, nothing more was said on the matter and talk quickly returned to more mundane affairs.

It was soon apparent that Neideran's spent a great deal of time discussing art - their latest purchase, what they had commissioned, who they had discovered. They were it seemed generous, if somewhat fickle patrons. When pressed, Qui-Gon was obliged to make what he hoped was an appropriate comment on a large wall hanging behind the Prince. Certainly Obi-Wan seemed to take no small delight in his discomfort if the mischievous glimmer was any indication. Still, the conspiratol smile they exchanged did much to calm his earlier fears.

Dinner finally came to an end as Menatep stood and announced he was retiring for the evening. Taking their cue from the other Neirderan's, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan both stood as the Prince and his son walked from the room. Just before he departed, Menatep turned and looked back. "Ah yes gentlemen I almost forgot, do you ride?"

Not sure what else he could say Qui-Gon nodded, "Yes, your highness."

"Splendid, until tomorrow then."

Obi-Wan waited until the princes had left before turning to Qui-Gon, his voice a low whisper. "Ride what exactly?"

Qui-Gon shrugged. "I have no idea." He smiled to try and ease the boy's concern. "I suppose we will find out tomorrow." Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

Junubae had been skulking in the background throughout most of the evening, now he made his way through the departing guests towards the Jedi. "Please gentlemen allow me to escort you back to your quarters." Qui-Gon had almost become accustomed to the armed escort; however, he was less happy when they arrived outside their rooms and the guards lined up along either side of the corridor. The Herald bid them a cheerful goodnight, assuring them that he would call upon them personally in the morning.

At Junubae's departure there followed a pregnant pause. Qui-Gon regretted that with the guards present there was no possibility of really talking to Obi-Wan. He could, of course, invite Obi-Wan into his quarters, or follow the young man into his. However, he didn't consider such a course of action to be wise. He felt the awkwardness of this brief separation keenly enough, he had no desire to make it harder upon either of them.

Part of him chided his foolishness. After all, it was hardly the first time he had been required to sleep apart from Obi-Wan, and it was not as though they were divided by any great distance. Why then did the narrow corridor feel like the most impassible chasm? Of course in his heart he knew the reason; this was to be their first night apart since their Bonding. He was deeply unsettled by just how impossible it felt to turn and bid his Padawan goodnight.

Obi-Wan didn't appear to be finding it any easier, he stood as though unwilling to make a move towards his room, one hand resting upon the door handle.

"Goodnight, Obi-Wan." He watched the emotions flitter across the youth's expressive face. Disappointment, sorrow, and finally, bitter resignation.

"Goodnight, Master."

There was nothing more to say. However, as he turned to enter his suite he stole a brief look back, only to find Obi-Wan stood watching him. A haunted look passed briefly through tormented gray-green eyes before the young man's gaze became shuttered, and with a nod, the boy disappeared through the doorway.

Qui-Gon sighed and put away any thoughts he may have entertained about getting any sleep. Meditation would have to suffice.

Chapter VIII - Obi-Wan

Obi-Wan allowed the door to close behind him with a soft click. Resting against it, he allowed his head to fall back to strike the woodwork with a dull thud. Eyes shut tight he repeated the action a half dozen times in a frustrated attempt to relieve his torment. Why is this so hard? He had slept alone before; so why did it now feel so unnatural to do so? Was it an element of being Bonded? Or was it simply a weakness on his part?

Opening his eyes, he pushed himself away from the door and paced across the room. Throwing himself onto the bed, he slowly rolled over onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. It was garishly decorated with scenes of frolicking scantily clad Neideran's, confirming the speculation that anatomically they differed very much from his own form.

With a groan, he sat upright and swung his legs back to the floor. Wearily he removed his boots and outer garments, being careful to place his lightsaber out of sight but within easy reach. Finally done he flopped back onto the bed, taking a moment to settle himself before sliding under the blankets.

The day's pleasant warmth had become steadily more oppressive as the night had drawn in and the open window provided little relief. Hot, sticky, and increasingly restless he threw off the blankets, kicking them down to the bottom of the bed. Relief was short lived, and the remainder of his clothing quickly followed suit. The night air felt delicious against his bare skin; but again the comfort was too brief as once again he became uncomfortably hot. His physical discomfort was compounded by his mental anguish as his thoughts kept returning to his lover across the hall.

He was fairly certain Qui-Gon shared his unhappiness with the situation, though this knowledge brought him little comfort. It was taking a tremendous effort to completely shut the older man out; maintaining his mental shields at such a level had left him with a persistent headache. However, he was afraid to lower them, even a little, for fear of Qui-Gon detecting the depth of his distress.

Obi-Wan had sensed the older Jedi's reluctance to bring him on this mission. If Qui-Gon were to discover just how much of a struggle he was finding it to remain within the confines of a Master and Padawan relationship, he might never be allowed to accompany him on similar missions.

Yet the alarm this thought brought him was nothing in comparison to his main fear - what if Qui-Gon were to reconsider the wisdom of Bonding with a Padawan? He knew Qui-Gon loved him, but he also knew just how dedicated the older man was to his Jedi calling. Qui- Gon had been prepared once to set him aside for the sake of the Force; what was to prevent him making the same sacrifice again?

The more he tried to push the thought away, the more it battled for his attention. Reaching over to the chair beside him, he stretched out until he was able to snag a corner of his robe and pull it toward him. Rummaging in the pocket he withdrew a small corked bottle. Lips pursed, he stared at it thoughtfully.

The dark blue vial contained a sleeping draft purchased on Coruscant shortly before they had departed for Neider. He could have obtained one from Master Segella at the Temple, but not without question, and not without the risk of Qui-Gon finding out. So he had gathered up what few coins he could find and wandered out into the city, finally making his purchase from a dingy stall some streets away.

It was supposedly a mild draft; Obi-Wan had acquired it in fear of this very situation. Normally, if unable to sleep he could refresh himself by mediating for several hours. However, he had been unable to maintain a trance state since he had witnessed his Master's fall to the Sith Lord's strike on Naboo; a fact he had taken great pains to conceal from Qui-Gon and the other Jedi Masters.

Still, he hesitated to use it now. He had only been able to obtain the vaguest run down of ingredients from the stall-holder, and had recognized less than a handful of those. He was wary of consuming anything he knew so little about, however dire his need. He uncorked the bottle and sniffed the contents; there was only the faintest odor of Perriara Berries. Obi-Wan nibbled his lower lip before, resolved, he opened his mouth and let three drops of the dark oily liquid fall onto his tongue. Having screwed his face up in preparation for the foul taste, he was pleasantly surprised to find it had none. Replacing the cork, he slipped the bottle into his pocket and laid back.

At first he felt little different; he was still hot, tense and trying desperately hard not to think of his Master just across the hallway. However, as he stared up at the ceiling fresco, he had the strangest sensation that the little Neideran figures were actually dancing. He giggled, and then covered his mouth as the sound echoed loudly through the silence. He tried to sit up but his limbs refused to obey him. Finally he was able to raise one arm; drawing his hand up to his face he stared at it, before holding it out over his chest and letting it drop.

Obi-Wan jumped and let out another crooked snigger as his hand slapped against his skin. He could feel the sensation through his chest but his fingers felt oddly numb; looking down it was almost as though he were watching someone else's hand trail over his heated flesh. Against his will the memories resurfaced, the feel of Qui-Gon's long callused fingers as they caressed his body; the feather soft touch of his lover's hair as it brushed over him, followed by the gentle scrub of beard as lips teased eager flesh.

Unconsciously, his hand followed the path of his memories; even as he was tormented by the remembrance of Qui-Gon drawing him into the sweet, hot confines of his mouth, his own hand was reaching out and gripping his rising erection, stroking it feverishly. Maddening delight, gentle pressure, the swirl of a skillful tongue, its tip just flickering against the opening With a groan Obi-Wan abandoned all pretense of finesse and, tightening his fist around the root, jerked it almost cruelly, until with a hoarse cry he came, sticky strands shooting over his belly and chest.

He lay gasping, as his heart slowed and awareness returned. When it did he gave a whimper of distress, his expression a mixture of self- disgust and despair; convulsively he yanked his hand away, balling it into a fist he slammed it into the bed. Fighting back the tears which scorched his eyes he reached out blindly for his robe, fumbling in the pocket until he found the little vial. Uncorking it with shaking fingers he let another three drops fall onto his tongue. Replacing the bottle, he closed his eyes; taking deep even breaths until a false sleep stole over him.

Chapter IX - Obi-Wan

It seemed he had scarcely closed his eyes when he awoke with a violent start, his heart pounding wildly. For a moment he lay staring into the darkness, until his eyes grew accustomed to the faint moonlight. He slid his tongue over paper-dry lips, he couldn't think what had awoken him, all he knew was that he felt afraid. If it had been a nightmare he couldn't remember it.

His hand encountered the dried semen on his chest and he wrinkled his nose in disgust. Wearily, he staggered into the bathroom. He soaked a washcloth with cold water, drawing it roughly over his face, and down his body, scrubbing angrily at the evidence of his loss of control. When he was done, he dried himself crudely and returned to his bed. He lay trembling, more from the residual traces of his forgotten nightmare than any physical chill.

He was barely aware of the sleeping draft, mechanically swallowing a mouthful before clumsily replacing the stopper. He rolled over onto his belly and idly pulled up a blanket. His eyelids grew heavy, the bottle slipped from nerveless fingers and fell under the chair, and finally Obi-Wan Kenobi succumbed to deep dreamless sleep.

Chapter X - Obi-Wan

"Sir?....Sir?" A child's demanding tones slipped through Obi-Wan's sleep fuddled mind.

He squinted against the morning light, "Wh....what?" His less than intelligent inquiry was greeted with a giggle. He opened his eyes more fully, wincing when the full stream of early morning brightness hit him.

"Morning, Sir." A deeper voice and another giggle. Slowly Obi-Wan focused on the two figures beside his bed. A small boy with a head of tiny twisting braids grinned at him shyly, while a taller figure scowled at his giggling companion disapprovingly. "Your breakfast, Sir."

"Wha-....oh...yes, thank you." He pulled himself up and accepted the proffered tray from the older servant. The smiling boy set the jug he was holding down on a table. They both stood regarding him earnestly, and he was grateful that he had covered himself up at some point during the night.

"Will there be anything else, Sir?"

"No..no thank you, this is fine." After bowing deeply the servants left. Obi-Wan caught a slight yelp from outside the door as the elder obviously disciplined his unruly companion.

He stared at the tray, which held an assortment of dry crackers, cold meats and fresh fruit; even having eaten so little the previous day he still could not summon up any appetite. Setting his breakfast aside, he rose and went in search of a shower.

The water helped a little, removing the stickiness of the night, and soothing some of the tension from his frame. Having dressed he contemplated leaving his room; however, realizing that wherever he went he would probably be trailed by half a dozen or so guards, he decided it would be wiser to remain where he was.

Instead he went back to the window seat and looked out over the palace. It was difficult to get an accurate measure of its size with only the one view for reference, but his over-all impression was that it was quite impressive, vast in fact. The buildings, in marked contrast to their interiors, were painted in soothing tones; mainly brilliant white or chalky blue, with pale green rooftops. The soft shades were broken only by the occasional glittering golden roof, perhaps marking a building of significance. Just beyond the flat roofs and smooth round domes, he could make out the distant haze of the city they had passed over on their arrival.

He let out a heavy sigh. His head still ached miserably, and he felt strangely drained despite his night's rest. He was slightly troubled that he remembered little of the evening from the time he had got into bed, had he fallen asleep that swiftly? He seemed to recall a dream? Or perhaps a nightmare? But it danced elusively at the edges of his consciousness, slipping away each time he tried to draw it close. He had found the little vial of sleeping draft under a chair, but couldn't recall if he had actually taken any. He longed to reach out for the comfort of Qui-Gon's familiar presence, but he was afraid to even seek the reassuring touch of his Master, for fear that he would be unable to prevent himself from reaching for his Bonded lover too. Quietly cursing his own neediness, he dampened down his hurt and strengthened his shields, ignoring the sharp stab of pain that accompanied his efforts.

A gentle knocking broke his reverie.

"Come in." Junubae entered, dressed in vibrant orange and Obi-Wan struggled to suppress a wince.

"Ah you are ready, excellent sir, if you will accompany me his highness, the Prince, awaits us at the stables." Obi-Wan nodded and followed the Herald out into the hallway.

Chapter XI

What little meditative rest Qui-Gon had been able to achieve abruptly vanished as he took in his Padawan's appearance. The usually immaculate young man stood with robes and hair in slight disarray; his face seemed flushed and puffy, gray-green eyes glittered feverishly.

"Are you alright, Obi-Wan?" Unable to completely hide his concern

The youth looked surprised by the question. "Yes, Master." The boy's reply did little to reassure him; particularly when he thought he caught a small wince as they turned to go.

"Obi-Wan-?"

The younger man broke in somewhat impatiently, "It's just a headache Master, it will pass." Still worried, Qui-Gon nodded; accepting his Padawan's explanation, for now.

The Herald led them briskly through the palace and out into a spacious sunlit courtyard. The Prince was already waiting and with him were a handful of Neideran nobles, and a scattering of guards. At their approach Menatep turned, greeting them with a smile.

"Good morning gentlemen, I trust you slept well. Mauriteous, have the Baresh brought out." A fair nobleman bowed smartly, and disappeared into the gloom of a shadowed doorway.

Qui-Gon felt a little apprehensive; however, since the Neideran’s hadn't askewed their normal elaborate attire, he surmised that whatever these Baresh were they could not be too challenging. He glanced at Obi-Wan, just as the young man's eyes widened and his mouth fell open in astonishment.

He followed his Padawan’s gaze and found it was all he could do not to stare open mouthed as well. In his travels he had seen many strange and wondrous creatures, but still his breath caught as he beheld these beasts. Standing as high at the shoulder as his Padawan was tall, the Baresh resembled nothing so much as enormous felines; with slender, graceful bodies, sleek muscles and small, neat heads. Their long powerful legs and elongated bodies suggested animals built for great speed.

The sunlight revealed their short pelts to be a rich reddish brown, paling to a soft cream on their underbellies, and darkening to almost black on the tips of their ears. Long tails swished while large, luminescent yellow eyes regarded them with predatory intelligence. One of the creatures yawned widely, revealing a set of needle sharp teeth, and sizable canines. The only visible sign that they were domesticated came from the colorful tasseled bridles fastened over their short muzzles.

The Neideran’s strode up to the creatures confidently; the Jedi approached a little more warily. However, as they drew up close his Padawan, with typical 'Obi-Wan curiosity,' reached out to one of the beasts. Qui-Gon found he was unable to prevent the instinctive cry of caution which escaped his lips.

At his sharp, "Obi-Wan!," the youth paused, arm outstretched and looked back at Qui-Gon; suddenly the Baresh turned and licked the proffered hand. The boy let out a yelp and jumped back, falling against another beast: it butted him none to gently, propelling the youth forwards with a distinct lack of Jedi grace.

Qui-Gon's stab of fear quickly faded as Menatep stepped forward smiling. "I think they like you, young Jedi." Obi-Wan's stunned surprise became a delighted grin as the Baresh rubbed it's jaw against his head purring loudly. However, the boy reacted less happily to the long tongue which flicked out to rasp wetly against his neck. "Hey!" Obi-Wan tried to duck away but the creature followed him persistently.

The Prince laughed and turned to Qui-Gon, his eyes alight with merriment."I think she has mistaken the boy for her kit!" Qui-Gon nodded, unable to hold back his own amusement, as his young lover tried unsuccessfully to pull his hood over his head in an attempt to ward off further 'attacks.'

Eventually order was restored and the party readied itself. Qui-Gon watched carefully as the Neideran's seized a handful of thick fur at the base of the beasts' necks before hauling themselves up, then he copied the motion. It was a little trickier than they made it appear but he managed to mount his Baresh with relative ease. He watched with pride, and some little envy, as Obi-Wan nimbly leapt up onto his own mount.

The Baresh had a strange, bounding gait; holding on tight with his thighs, he could feel the restrained power in the creature as it moved. At first he found it slightly unnerving, as it felt as though the beast was holding itself tightly in check and would break into a run at any moment. However, it was quickly apparent that the Baresh were impeccably behaved as they stalked out of the courtyard with the slightly bored air of having travelled the same route countless times.

As they rode through the gatehouse and out into the city, the guards raised their spears upright and circled around them in a defensive posture. Though it seemed their actions were more a matter of procedure than any real need for protection. The streets were crowded, but people swiftly moved aside as the Herald rode ahead carrying the Prince's colors aloft. Many Neideran's stopped whatever they were doing to watch the small procession, bowing low to Menatep as he passed.

The denizens of the city were more practically dressed than their noble counterparts, but no less colorful. Qui-Gon found the sight of so many garishly costumed individuals grouped together dazzling. He noticed a few curious stares directed at Obi-Wan, but, looking more content and relaxed than he had in days, the younger man seemed to be oblivious of the attention.

As they continued onwards he allowed himself to relax a little. Lulled by the gentle warmth of the sun, and the slow rocking motion of the Baresh, he gave himself up to the pleasure of watching his young love. He was pleased by the re-emergence of Obi-Wan's natural high spirits; certainly the boy was happier riding the Baresh than he. He watched as the youth leant forward to scratch his mount between its ears; the Baresh tipped its head back with a deep throaty purr, eyes slit in pleasure. Obi-Wan grinned and dropped further down, laying his face against the creature's neck ruffling the fur of its flank

Qui-Gon smiled, his Padawan was not normally so taken with other lifeforms, and he remembered Prince Menatep's teasing observation kindred spirits It was not difficult to allow his thoughts to dwell on Obi-Wan and as his mind wandered he found himself idly drawing up similarities. He recalled the way the young man's short hair felt like soft thick pelt beneath his fingers, he smiled as he realized even the reddish glints were in keeping with the Baresh's fur. The way they moved, both had the same limber, athletic grace, only hinting at the power within. The interplay of slender muscle beneath satin skin; the predatory glimmer in intelligent gray-green eyes, the way they deepened to dark emerald in the depths of arousal.

Caught up in his reverie he was ill-prepared when Obi-Wan suddenly turned around and met his gaze. The rush of desire stole his breath from his lungs. In that instant the distance between them disappeared, and he felt the young man's shields shift as the boy projected a wave of need moved towards him. Abruptly he withdrew, schooling his features into an inscrutable mask. Belatedly he realized the cost, as Obi-Wan's face tightened; he tried to reach back to the youth through their link, but was met by an impenetrable wall.

Even as he regretted the loss of contact, and fretted over its cause, a small, selfish part of him felt relieved; it was far easier to maintain his own control with the young man closed to him. Unhappily he watched as the youth slumped forward, head lowered as though chastened by his actions. As inappropriate as Obi-Wan's response may have been, Qui-Gon placed the blame fully upon himself.

In allowing his thoughts to drift he had crossed over the self imposed boundary of Master and Padawan. He could not fault the younger man if the youth had picked up on his carnal thoughts through their bond. He decided to distance himself a little from the youth; perhaps the young man had the right idea by shielding himself completely. The temptation for reaching out along their link that little bit further was too great a danger.

Chapter XII

Gradually the streets they were parading along grew quieter, and began to widen out. Qui-Gon was looking ahead as they turned a sharp bend and the Temple of Akhenaar suddenly loomed up before them.

His initial reaction was incredulity - how had such an enormous structure not been visible to them from the palace? He could only assume that their assigned quarters did not look out over this particular part of the city. Certainly they could not have missed it.

The Temple of Akhenaar was set atop huge stone steps, with the effect that it completely dominated the surrounding skyline. The Temple itself was a huge black pyramid, it's mirrored sides shimmering like oil on water. Qui-Gon found it vaguely......unsettling; a quick glance at Obi-Wan told him the younger man had sensed it too. Not evil exactly, just troubling - an impression of great age, and an unpleasant past perhaps.

As they circled their mounts at the foot of the pyramid, five figures appeared out from an entrance near the top. Robes flapping wildly they hurried down the steps; these, Qui-Gon assumed, were the priests of Akhenaar.

Upon closer inspection there was, it seemed, very little to distinguish one priest from another; all were extremely thin, a fact emphasized by their loose billowing garments, and close shaven heads. As they dismounted, four of the priests scuttled forward and took hold of the Baresh's bridles. Only the guards remained seated, and as the priests led the other Baresh away, they turned their mounts and followed close behind. The fifth priest waited patiently until they were ready to be escorted up the stone steps.

Qui-Gon noted that unlike the other Neideran’s, none of the priests reacted to the sight of his Padawan's short hair; either they had been forewarned, or it was simply not in their manner to do so. He suspected both theories were probably correct. For the most part the priests kept their eyes cast downwards; though whether it was out of respect for the royal presence, or simply a reluctance to look upon secular splendor, Qui-Gon couldn't decide. Certainly the Akhenaar priests were the most drably clothed Neiderans he had seen since his arrival. Their robes were crafted from a more refined cloth than the Jedi's, but were a plain, simple black.

Scurrying ahead, the fifth priest led them up the steps. "He looks like a Dramoo-dee." Obi-Wan whispered. Qui-Gon managed a disapproving frown that didn't quite make it to his eyes and the younger man smirked before looking away. Trying to dampen down his own amusement, Qui-Gon reluctantly acknowledged the boy's description was apt; with his flapping black robe, long bony legs, and pinched face the Akhenaar priest did resemble an ungainly Dramoo-dee swamp bird.

Chapter XIII

Inside the Temple was cool and quiet. The only audible sounds were the soft slap of the priest's sandeled feet, and the slightly heavier tread of the Neideran nobles; only the Jedi moved forward silently. They were in a large room, though the sloping walls gave it an oppressive feel. Other than the door they had entered by, there was no access to the daylight. Instead the Temple was lit with literally hundreds upon hundreds of long, white candles; their eerie glow cast shimmering reflections upon golden walls.

In the center of the room, stretching as high as the ceiling, was an enormous statue. Basically humanoid in form its face was set into a contorted grimace, while it's eyes were milky white gem stones, giving it a distinctly odd blank stare. The priest knelt and raised his arms. "Behold the benevolent face of Akhenaar." Obediently the nobles shuffled forward and anointed themselves from a small dish at the God's feet.

"He doesn't look terribly benevolent." Qui-Gon was caught a little off guard by his Padawan's dry remark. However, before he could remonstrate the impudent young man for his irreverence, the Neideran's finished their absolutions and drew back. Fortunately, Obi- Wan had spoken far too softly for anyone else to hear. Less fortunately Qui-Gon found himself in complete agreement, and only managed to maintain his composure by averting his eyes from Akhenaar's ill- tempered visage.

The priest fluttered around them until he had their attention then he drew off to one side, indicating that they should follow. Departing through a side doorway, they were led through dark narrow passages, poorly lit with flickering torches. Qui-Gon realized that they were traveling through a maze within the Temple walls.

Eventually the priest stopped. Placing his hand into a niche in the wall he evidently manipulated a switch of some sort as there was a distant rumbling as ancient machinery swung into action, and a concealed door slid open in front of them. Without waiting for further instructions Menatep stepped inside, at the priest's urgent motions the Jedi followed. The door slid shut behind them; evidently the rest of the Neiderans were not invited.

Chapter XIV

Qui-Gon had already learned that the head priest of Akhenaar was one Ahmose-Tawosret. However, he had been able to glean little information beyond that, except perhaps that the priest was someone who inspired respect, and unease in equal measure. Face to face with Ahmose, he was not exactly what he had envisioned.

For one thing, Akhenaar's most important disciple was a great deal younger than he had expected, perhaps only a few years senior to Obi- Wan. He chided himself for falling into the age-old trap of making foregone assumptions and took careful note of the man who might hold the future of Neider in his hands. Ahmose had a smooth, pale- olive complexion. His features were almost pretty, in a soft sexless way; with fine arched brows, and a delicate pouty mouth. His dark eyes appeared almost solidily black in the poor light; they were heavily rimmed with gold, which lent him a further androgenous exoticism.

The sickly sweet scent of rich incense hung around his robes; they were similar to the other priests, but woven into the black were strands of metallic green and blue. His head was completely shaven; smooth and oiled, its only decoration was a plain gold band set with the same milky white stone that gave Akhenaar his sightless eyes.

Despite the need for discretion in regard to their Jedi abilities, Qui- Gon decided to try to gain a sense of Ahmose's true intentions. He reached out cautiously with the Force. However, he was unable to even touch the Neideran's mind, and it was not, he was almost certain, because the priest was blocking him in anyway. He was simply unable to gain a purchase; he would reach out with the Force only for it to slip away from Ahmose, as though it found him repellent in some way.

Gently he extended his senses over the others in the room, it was as he had thought; he could detect the junior priest, awed and slightly fearful, Menatep, anxious but determined, and the familiar presence of Obi-Wan still tightly shielded. So the Temple was not secured against the Force, it was simply Ahmose who was somehow immune to it. Qui-Gon was aware of the existence of Force resistant beings, it seemed that the high priest was one such individual.

"I am honored, my Prince." The priest's voice was high and melodic, and Qui-Gon recalled what Prince Menatep had said about Neideran's religious representatives being eunuchs.

Menatep brushed the high priest's greeting aside with an impatient nod. "I said I would come, Ahmose."

The priest merely smiled silkily. "Of course."

With a faint grimace, Menatep waved a hand towards Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. "And I have brought the off-worlders as I promised." Ahmose made no reply as he sat, his face eerily still; even his eyes seemed expressionless.

His impassive demeanor was in marked contrast to the Prince's. It seemed Menatep was in the company of the one man capable of ruffling his usual stately calm. When he spoke, the Prince was unable to keep the slight edge of exasperation from his normally measured tones. "You cannot deny, Ahmose, that they appear no different to ourselves!"

"In appearance, perhaps."

"Ahmose, you must speak to the people."

"What can a humble priest say that would make the people listen. Surely your highness-"

"You are the voice of their God!"

"Ah yes, their God." The emphasis was mild but the censor was detectable nonetheless. Menatep pursed his lips in displeasure, he fell silent for a moment as though trying to reign in his temper. When he spoke again his voice was calmer.

"Ahmose, surely you can see it is unreasonable to continue to expect Neider to flourish under a cloak of ignorance."

"Ignorance, your highness?"

Some small part of Qui-Gon silently applauded the high priest's technique even as he deplored it. By keeping his tone mild, his responses short, and echoing the Prince's own words, Ahmose was successfully fielding all of Menatep's demands without ever directly opposing his Prince.

"You know as well as I what foolishness the dissenters believe." Menatep's words were scornful.

"Not all our people are motivated by beliefs, your highness, some are simply...afraid."

"Then it is up to us to show them they have nothing to fear!"

"Nothing?"

"Nothing!" Menatep, it seemed, was adept at playing the wily priest at his own game.

Qui-Gon was finding the exchange illuminating. This was a discussion between equals; perhaps here on his home ground Ahmose even had an edge. Menatep showed the priest little religious deference, but Ahmose was certainly in no way cowed by the presence of royalty.

The Priest raised his own hand in a elegant gesture. Each finger was covered with golden rings. "Can we be so certain of what the people want?"

"We must accept change, Ahmose."

"Akhenaar tells us to be wary of those from other lands, behold and they will come bearing false promises." It seemed Ahmose was quoting from scripture, a suspicion confirmed by Menatep's curt response.

"I will not debate religious doctrine with you, Ahmose!"

Menatep narrowed his eyes and fixed the high priest with all the power of his own royal stare. "I have come here to show you the truth, Ahmose."

"The truth-"

"The truth!" Menatep allowed a little self-satisfaction to show through, in his obvious pleasure at turning Ahmose's methods against him. "You can see the truth with your own eyes, and hear it with your own ears, so you may speak of it to our people!"

It was Ahmose's turn to look displeased. Though grudgingly, he also seemed to acknowledge the point scored against him. "What do you want from us?"

Qui-Gon blinked, but managed to hide his surprise at suddenly being addressed. "Nothing-" He broke off as he realized he didn't know Ahmose's official title. The high priest didn't seem to notice, his smooth brow creased in thought. Qui-Gon decided to risk offering a gentle reminder. "It was Neider's decision to approach the Republic."

"So it was." The comment was not quite dry, but it certainly implied that Ahmose had not approved of any such decision.

"I will pray to Akhenaar for guidance." This announcement was followed by Ahmose's abrupt departure, as he disappeared through a small doorway; presumably to pray, though Qui-Gon suspected it was as much to gain a breathing space in which to think.

As they waited in silence, freed from his need to closely observe the Neiderans, Qui-Gon allowed his attention to refocus on Obi-Wan. Even shielded, he had detected the young man's increasing anxiety as they had entered the Temple. He had concluded that the boy's remarks were a defensive action, intended to ward off his concern. He had attempted to reach out to soothe his Padawan, but was able to make little real impression through the boy's strong mental shielding.

However, it seemed at some point Obi-Wan had found his own center of calm. The young man had sat silent, and apparently untroubled, throughout the conversation. Nor had the youth shown any sign of his previous jumpy nature at Ahmose's abrupt departure. The youth now sat, watching the junior priest as though the Neideran were a particularly fascinating and distasteful insect.

Qui-Gon was still wondering if he should draw the youth's attention away before it was noticed, when Ahmose returned. "I will attend the sitting of the Council."

"Thank you." Menatep's reply was graciously bland, but Qui-Gon noticed the triumphant glimmer in the Prince's eyes. The high priest nodded, clearly far from happy. As the junior priest escorted them out, Qui-Gon felt Ahmose's eyes fixed upon himself and Obi-Wan.

Chapter XV

They were left alone to make their own way down the stone steps. Menatep took the opportunity to address his misgivings to Qui-Gon. "The Council should not be a problem, my nobles will act in accordance to my wishes, unless Ahmose chooses to oppose me." The Prince's disgust was apparent. "Then they could choose to voice objections on religious grounds." Menatep paused on the step and caught hold of Qui-Gon's arm. "We must convince Ahmose to speak for us!"

"I will do what I can your highness, but he seems quite strong in his beliefs."

"Beliefs! Ha! Ahmose is no more a believer of an all powerful, vengeful Akhenaar than you or I!"

In truth Qui-Gon had gained a similar impression of the high priest, but he chose to say nothing, allowing the Prince to continue. "What he fears is the loss of his position, and of course the generous gifts of his devoted followers." Menatep's mouth twisted bitterly, and he continued down the steps, leaving Qui-Gon to wonder whether the Prince had suffered from run-ins with the priest in the past.

They joined the other nobles who were waiting, with the guards, by the Baresh. Obi-Wan was amongst the first to remount, the young man visibly relieved to be free of the cloying claustrophobic atmosphere of Akhenaar's Temple. The party returned to the Palace along the same route, though in a slightly more subdued silence.

Chapter XVI

The next few days were spent waiting for the members of the Council to arrive; slowly they came in from the mountains, and the open plain lands that were home to the great Baresh. Qui-Gon was obliged to make his presence felt, talking at length with the Neideran nobles in an attempt to alleviate any fears they had about 'child eating' off- worlders. Certainly some of the new arrivals were more wary than the Palace nobles. Though not unintelligent, these Neideran's had a more jaundiced old-world view of strangers which taxed Qui-Gon's diplomatic skills to their limits.

He had little chance to speak with Obi-Wan but he noticed with growing concern the boy's steadily increasing pallor and listless behavior. Eventually even Menatep remarked upon it, and with Princely high-handedness gave the boy permission to miss the official meetings. After offering some fatherly advice on the benefits of exercise and fresh air, the Prince instructed the youth to spend some time in the company of the Baresh.

Qui-Gon offered no objections, in truth he was partly relieved to have the boy sent away. Some of the visiting Neiderans had been quite outspoken regarding the youth's 'strange' appearance, and he had sensed the young man biting back a retort on more than one occasion. Besides, he could hardly argue with Menatep's wry comment that 'the young have little time for politics.'

So it was from then on that not only did Qui-Gon not have the opportunity to talk with Obi-Wan, he no longer even saw his young love. The youth began coming and going from his quarters at irregular hours which somehow seemed to ensure that they never met, even in passing.

Finally, all the Council members were present and the real talks could begin. Ahmose had been the last to arrive. Menatep assumed his mantle of skillful debater and, aided by the deference the nobles were obliged to show him, succeeded in handling the main points under discussion very well. It was left to Qui-Gon to pick up on the details and he did his utmost to answer all the questions arising from the dilemma of whether or not Neider should open itself up to the Republic.

The Council consisted of twenty-four noblemen who governed the various principalities of Neider in Menatep's name, many claiming distant kinship to the royal line through their own lineage. Most seemed to be in complete agreement with their Prince - the time had come for change. However as the talks progressed a few began to express their concern regarding the arrival of traders and settlers. Only Ahmose remained silent, watching from the sidelines.

After five days of exhausting debate, during which the same question was often batted back and forth several times, the Council was ready to announce its decision. Qui-Gon surmised, from what he had managed to learn, that the Council's agreement was more a matter of course, since no-one living could ever recall the Council actually opposing a Prince's demands. Though, he thought somewhat darkly, there was at least one historical precedent for it; he wondered if Menatep gave much thought to his forebearer who had paid for a similar demand with his life.

He was surprised by Ahmose's continuing silence, until he learnt that the priest was in effect simply waiting for his moment. Menatep was obliged by an ancient and obscure secular law to invite the high priest of Akhenaar to speak. If anything the high priest said caused concerns amongst the other Council members, the whole process of debate and argument could begin again. Small wonder then that Menatep looked worried; he felt a little anxious himself.

Ahmose took center stage with all the restrained flair suited to a man of his office. It was clear, however, that as Menatep had bitterly remarked, the high priest enjoyed the sense of power.

Qui-Gon tried to quash his feeling of unease, and tried instead to visualize himself and Obi-Wan going home to Coruscant. It had been less than two weeks, and the Neideran's were gracious hosts, but the separation from his Bonded love gnawed at him, and he longed to leave. He wished he could sense something from the priest, but he had to be content, like Menatep, in waiting for Ahmose to speak.

The musical voice of the priest rang out clearly, he gave what was apparently an expected prayer, before launching into a dramatic discourse regarding how he had struggled to balance the will of his Prince with the religious scriptures of his God. Qui-Gon exchanged a look with Menatep, things were not looking well.

However, Ahmose rounded off his surprisingly short speech by announcing his intention to 'speak' to the people, the 'children of Akhenaar' to hear the voice of the 'chosen ones.' Silence greeted his words.

Menatep recognized the challenge and was forced to accept it.. "Very well then we will listen."

"Tomorrow, at the Temple of our God."

"Agreed."

Qui-Gon recognized the shared look between the two men with a sinking heart. This was more than politics; it was a contest between two figures locked in an age-old power struggle, and he and Obi-Wan were caught up in the middle of it.

Chapter XVII

The next day saw them departing early for the Temple of Akhenaar. Frustrated in his attempts to locate Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon was almost ready to disobey his own instructions and trace the boy through their link. He was prevented by the recollection of Master Yoda's words, that in stifling the boy he would do more harm than good. Not for the first time he cursed his own ignorance of the complexities of a 'relationship.'

He was in no way a naive man, nor an innocent; he had partaken in his share of physical encounters, though not a great many. However, he had little or no experience of anything beyond simple friendship and the quenching of a physical need. Nothing in his life, not even bearing witness to the Bonding of others, had prepared him for the incredible, wonderful, terrifying act of falling in love. Ever since he had realized the truth of his feelings for Obi-Wan, he seemed to spend his days alternately walking on air or egg shells.

Of course, he thought wryly, beginning a love affair after a near death experience, and amidst other, numerous, tumultuous events, probably guaranteed some....teething problems. Not that he regretted his decision. Obi-Wan was as vital to him as the air he breathed. However, like Obi-Wan, he had been raised in the Jedi Temple; not an unhappy childhood by any means, but it had provided little in the way of 'example relationships.' Qui-Gon had spent his life being counseled to guard against the dangers of excessive emotions - yet at times the sheer depth and intensity of his feelings for Obi-Wan almost overwhelmed him.

He knew they were in a state of flux, both of them struggling to come to terms with the enormity of being bonded to one another. He still doubted the wisdom of the Jedi Council in sending them both upon this mission, but he now wondered if it wasn't some sort of test, designed to make them see that they could no longer simply exist as Master and Padawan.

He had been trying to compartmentalize their relationship, and, in trying to separate their life as Bond mates, from that of Teacher and Student, he had only succeeded in creating a division between himself and Obi-Wan. He was still Obi-Wan's Master, but he was also Obi- Wan's lover; he could not simply set one aside and assume the other. The different roles they played in each other's lives were delicate threads; they needed weaving together to give them strength.

Unfortunately, as always, outside forces seemed intent on acting against them. Reluctantly he acknowledged that now was not the time to share his thoughts with Obi-Wan. He would have to wait until they could have a private conversation. Until then Master Yoda's words were probably good advice; no doubt his hovering would do more harm than good. The arrival of a somewhat anxious servant jolted him from his reverie. He cast one last desperate look around the courtyard, hoping to catch a glimpse of the younger man; but he only confirmed what he already knew - Obi-Wan was 'somewhere' inside the Palace.

Promising himself that he would seek the boy out when he returned, he'd sleep in the hallway to catch him if he had to, Qui-Gon took control of his mount and steered the Baresh towards the gatehouse where Prince Menatep and the Council were already preparing to leave.

Chapter XVIII

This time as they approached the Temple the square was over-flowing with people, they were spilling out of doorways and windows, a few perched precariously upon the rooftops. The Akhenaar priests were trying to maintain order; they had formed a ring around the base of the Temple and were struggling to hold the people back, even as more arrived swelling the surging throng.

The combined presence of the guards and the Baresh cut a swathe through the crowd; allowing Qui-Gon and his companions to dismount at the Temple steps. As he set foot upon the base a hush fell over the Neiderans; following their gaze he looked up, his eyes drawn to the the entrance above. Ahmose, acompanied by a supporting cast of acolytes, had just exited the Temple and was making his way down the stone stairway towards them. Prince and priest greeted one another cordially, and then turned to face the waiting crowd.

Menatep spoke first. Using Qui-Gon as a 'visual aid' he stressed the need for the people of Neider to face the future with open hearts and minds. The Prince played cleverly upon the 'reknowned' courage of his people, whilst still managing to offer assurances that there was nothing to fear from the 'off-worlders'. The Prince was a skillful orator; young and old alike listened enthralled, as Menatep promised to make Neider a new and powerful light in the Republic - a voice to be heard, instead of hiding in the shadows.

As Menatep ended his speech, the silence was broken by the stirring and muttering of the crowd. A hush fell once more as Ahmose stepped forward .All eyes were upon Akhenaar's chief disciple; no-one looked to Qui-Gon - and screams erupted as the Jedi suddenly darted in-front of the startled high priest, lightsaber drawn, just in time to deflect away the spear hurtling towards Ahmose's heart.

"Get back!" The Council members were too stunned to protest, shuffling behind him obediently, as guards and acolytes came pouring over the steps, hurrying to protect their respective masters.

In the general chaos that followed the frightened crowds fought to break out of the square, while the guards stuggled to contain them. Ahmose and Menatep were unceramoniously bundled up and rushed into the relative safety of the Temple; blanketed on all sides by half hysterical acolytes and grim-faced guards. The other Council members followed, breaking into an undignified scramble when they realised they were in danger of being left behind by the armed escort.

Qui-Gon paused half-way up the Temple steps. Scanning the melee around him he quickly detected the figure who had caught his attention just before the spear was thrown. Racing back down the stairway he somersaulted over the guards, landing in a break in the crowd. His 'unnatural' athleticism quickly created a larger space, as the terrified Neiderans melted away from him, leaving him face-to-face with his target.

Too late the guilty Neideran tried to make good his escape - Qui-Gon seized hold of the would-be assassin before the Neideran had even decided which way to run. The captive let out an animalistic squeal of sheer terror, desperately trying to twist away; however there was no hope of breaking the Jedi's grip. Menatep's guards closed around them and Qui-Gon deactivated his lightsaber.

"This is your assassin, I suggest you secure him." One of the guards stepped up as Qui-Gon thrust his prisoner towards them. However before they could lead their prisoner away a priest calm hurtling down the steps. Gasping for breath the acolyte staggered forward and whispered something to the closest guard. The guard listened, frowning, then turned to address the rest of his troop.

"It seems his Royal Highness wishes to speak with this." He tilted his head towards the assassin, who was now shaking so violently that the guards on either side of him appeared to be the only thing keeping him upright. Turning to Qui-Gon the guard added respectfully, "His Highness wishes to speak with you also Sir." Qui-Gon simply nodded his assent and followed the group back up to the Temple entrance.

They were stopped outside the doorway by an indignant looking priest. Qui-Gon recognized him as the one who had taken them to meet Ahmose on their first visit.

"You must not defile the Temple of Akhenaar with...that...that vile murderous creature!"

The priests words had an unexpected effect, they appeared to galvanise the prisoner who began to strain uselessly against the guards holding him.

"Defile! Defile! It is you not I who defile the Temple of our God! You blasphemer!"

The last word was practically spat into the acolyte's face, even as the terrified man scuttled backwards. However the prisoner wasn't finished. "You! You who defy the teachings of Akhenaar! You who will bring damnation upon us all!"

As the guards struggled to silence their prisoner, his ravings drew the attention of those inside the Temple. Menatep, Ahmose and a handful of others warily came out to investigate the cause of the commotion. The Prince relaxed as soon as he saw Qui-Gon, though his eyes held a certain new wariness. Ahmose seemed to have recovered admirably from his near brush with death, and simply looked extremely vexed. The others didn't appear to know who to fear most - the wild-eyed, ranting prisoner, or the silent, stoic Jedi. They avoided standing to close to either.

Menatep stared hard at the struggling prisoner, who stared back - eyes glittering with madness. "You! You will be stopped! You cannot lead the true children of Akhenaar against their God!" Face rapt with fanatic adoration the assassin stared past the Prince into the gloom of the Temple, seeking out the statue of his God. "He will reward us. When the time comes and the unworthy are scoured from the face of Neider, the chosen few will inherit all!"

The Prince regarded the man wordlessly, his expression a mixture of pity and disgust. Ahmose showed no such restraint, pushing forwards angrily.

"How dare you presume to know the wishes of Akhenaar! Blasphemer! You will inherit nothing!" The high priest's normally composed features were twisted into an enraged mask. The prisoner however seemed uneffected by Ahmose's rage, and Qui-Gon felt a twinge of unease as the assassin turned to face them with a triumphant smile.

"You are too late!"

Menatep stiffened at the assassin's words.

"What do you mean?"

The prisoner fell silent, his face abruptly taking on a stubborn cast. The Prince stepped closer, lowering his voice to a deadly whisper - one which promised a short future of great pain if the assassin refused to answer him again. "W h a t d o y o u m e a n?" The prisoner licked his lips nervously, h is eyes darting around all his captors before settling back upon the Prince.

"Your time is over. Your line has ended."

Menatep stumbled back, his face blank with shock; it drained of all color as the true horror of the assassin's words took hold of him.

"Tiye."

Qui-Gon scarcely heard the Prince's horrified whisper. His own heart clenched in fear. Turning toward the Palace he cried out a warning.

//Obi-Wan!//

Chapter XIX - Obi-Wan

Obi-Wan had known full well that Qui-Gon would be making an appearance at the stables sometime during the morning, which is why he had chosen not to go there. It wasn't, he told himself, that he was avoiding Qui-Gon exactly, it was simply easier to maintain the facade of being indifferent to the older man's company, if he wasn't actually in it.

Instead he had risen early and wandered deeper into the Palace. Moving away from the noise and bustle of hectic preparations, he had left; the sound of voices fading behind him. After climbing numerous long and elegant stairways, he found himself drifting along deserted corridors and through wide empty rooms.

It was rapidly apparent that much of the Palace was in disuse; in these upper rooms there was very little in the way of ornamentation, or even furniture. Huge, light and airy, their echoing halls reminded him almost painfully of home.

As he walked he pondered on the absence of his usual escort. Today, as on previous mornings, two guards had broken away from their companions to accompany him as he left his quarters. However, when he began his ascent into the unoccupied area of the Palace they had suddenly left him. He was somewhat puzzled by their abrupt departure, though he didn't query it. No-one had forbidden him to enter this part of the Palace so it seemed unlikely they were fearful of reprisal. He concluded that today their services were probably required for more important duties. Perhaps within these deserted rooms they considered their presence an unnecessary extravagance; or perhaps, he thought wryly, they had simply tired of following him around.

Whatever the reason, he was glad of it, as he basked in the almost forgotten pleasure of wandering in solitude. Far less pleasant were the troubled thoughts which returned to torment him now that his mind was free of other distractions.

He had seen little of Qui-Gon in the past few days, and when he had there had been no opportunity to speak. His dismissal at the hand of Prince Menatep had stung even as he had been grateful for it. However, what had hurt the most was Qui-Gon's silence, his Bond mate and Master had not even offered a token protest, seeming almost relieved to have him sent away.

Was Qui-Gon disappointed in him? He knew he had flinched at some of comments issued by the arriving Neiderans , and in some cases had only just managed to refrain from snapping back his own short- tempered response. He was aware of his increasing impatience with their speculative looks and whispers, and knew his irritation would have been blatant to the older man.

It was un-Jedi like to react to such provocation, especially since most of what the Neiderans had said, though offensive, wasn't actually intended as an insult. Obi-Wan sighed, the truth was he was simply weary of all the attention. As a member of an Order which was feared by some even as it was respected by others, he was used to drawing a certain degree of curiosity and interest; however it was rarely, if ever, focused solely upon him. In fact quite the opposite, usually as the apprentice he was overlooked in favor of his Master. Days of being stared at and whispered about, like he was some sort of aberrance of nature had made him tense and edgy.

He felt off-balance and out-of-step. He had been unable to snatch more than a few hours of sleep since their arrival on Neider. Nightmares, banished while he had slept in Qui-Gon's arms, now returned to torment him. He would awake in a cold sweat, heart pounding, pulse racing, but with no clear memory of the dream. Somehow he knew they were not the same as those which had haunted him upon his return from Taogoa. There were no voices, no intrusive hands, simply a feeling of intense fear and panic.

Yet somehow even more frightening than these night terrors, were the three nights when it seemed he hadn't suffered them; strangely, he had woken feeling far less rested than when he had. Still more alarming to him was his memory of these nights, which from the moment he had entered his quarters, seemed somehow 'blurred.'

Worrying too was the small vial of sleeping potion he had procured on Coruscant. Though he had no memory of ever having taken any, the contents were noticeably less. He had thought to get rid of it, but something stopped him. He told himself there was probably a simple enough explanation - perhaps a curious servant had spilt some. Besides he couldn't think of anywhere to safely discard it, and he was increasingly loathe to do so in case its use became necessary.

The sound of distant voices jarred him from his unhappy reverie; they came from somewhere up ahead and accompanying them was the resonant sound of striking metal. Obi-Wan hesitated, he almost turned to retrace his footsteps, but curiosity won out, and he continued to make his way down the corridor.

The passageway ended at an open doorway, the voices clearly coming from somewhere within. Cautiously Obi-Wan entered, moving silently deeper into the room. It was a huge chamber, the ceiling supported by four vast white pillars. Oddments of furniture were pushed up against the walls, several pieces were covered in dust sheets; sunlight streamed in through four enormous windows, which stretched from floor to ceiling.

In the center of the room someone had laid down a training mat, similar to those used at the temple. A young man stood off to one side with his back to him. Two others, armed with metal staffs, flattened and hooked at one end, were engaged in what appeared to be a vigorous training session. Obi-Wan recognized one of the combatants immediately - Prince Tiye, the others he quickly identified as two of the young Prince's dining companions from the first evening.

Despite the instinct to leave immediately, before he could be discovered, Obi-Wan found himself slipping further into the room; secreting himself behind a pillar, where he could watch unobserved.

They were working through a series of complex maneuvers, each trying to score a 'hit' against the other. Obi-Wan suspected the Prince's opponent was holding back a little, but begrudgingly he acknowledged that it made little difference. Tiye was extremely quick, and despite his slender build, apparently quite strong. The other boy was taller by a head, and had a greater reach, but he lacked the young Prince's sudden pivotal turns of speed.

The bout ended, as he had predicted, with royalty triumphant, and the young nobleman flat on his back. However, this was obviously not a grudge match; victor and vanquished exchanged grins, before the former extended a hand to help his companion to his feet.

His curiosity satisfied Obi-Wan decided it would be wise to make a tactical retreat. However, as he turned to leave he caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of his eye. Entering through a smaller doorway to his far left was Tiye's third dining companion. The young nobleman spied Obi-Wan immediately and cried out to his friends.

Frowning in confusion the young Prince and his companions moved out from the center of the room to see what had caught their friend's attention. Obi-Wan's stomach plummeted as the Prince stepped into view, his mouth twisted into a savage smirk.

"Well if it isn't the little Jedi." The Prince's voice poured scorn upon the title, but even as he felt his hackles rise, Obi-wan appreciated the irony of the insult, considering he was a good half a head taller than the 'little' Prince. "Don't you know it's rude to enter a room uninvited?"

"Perhaps he wants to fight?" This suggestion from the tallest of the youths.

"Is Lucius right Jedi do you want to fight with us?" The Prince's eyes glittered. "Valen your pt'chuk." The red-haired Neideran obediently handed the young Prince his weapon; though Obi-Wan noticed the youth didn't look very happy about it. The Prince held the pt'chuk out to Obi-wan. "Well Jedi?"

Obi-Wan hesitated, his eyes fixed on the proffered weapon. In truth he wanted nothing more than to accept the staff and pound the young Prince's face into the ground with it, and the darkness of his emotions sent waves of alarm crashing through him.

Anger and humiliation churned his stomach; he could feel their eyes burning into him, full of hate and scorn, baiting him to accept the challenge. He knew they despised him, from the moment Prince Tiye had laid eyes upon him he had been held in contempt because of the way he dressed, the way he wore his hair, because he was different, because he was.....a Jedi.

He drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes. What am I thinking! These boys were no danger to him, skilled as they were he knew they posed no threat to one strong with the Force - one such as himself. He was Jedi, and as such he could not, must not allow anger and hate to take a hold of him. Master Yoda's words came back to him Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering He had nothing to fear from these boys.

Releasing the breath he had been holding, he allowed his rage and humiliation to flow out with it. Reaching for the familiar comfort of the Force, he allowed it to soothe and calm his tattered spirit and strengthen his resolve.

When he re-opened his eyes the young Neiderans were staring at him in mingled hostility and confusion. Obi-Wan smiled inwardly, the anger that had inflamed him moments before was gone. Turning to the Prince he set his face into a mask of Jedi inscrutability; placing his hands together he gave a small dignified bow, "I regret your highness that I must respectfully decline."

He barely held back a bubble of laughter at Tiye's startled expression, evidently the young Prince had been confident he would accept the challenge. However, the Prince quickly regained his composure. "Well I suppose it was to be expected." The reluctant Valen looked puzzled by the comment, but the more like minded Lucius caught on at once.

"Yes your highness, I believe you are right, despite their claims to the contrary." He shared a sly smile with his fellow tormentor. Valen still looked bewildered; Obi-Wan was starting to grow uneasy, he had a distinctly unpleasant feeling that he knew where their comments were leading.

"What do you think Conal?" Lucius's question encouraged the fourth youth to enter the fray, and unlike Valen it appeared this boy was more than up to the challenge. He circled Obi-Wan speculatively. "Hm...I don't know, I mean not without seeing for my self, first hand. Though he does display all their signs of cowardice." Obi-Wan stiffened at boy's arrogant words, but he stood impassively as the youth leant in closer; hot breath against the back of his neck

"Perhaps we should check your highness? Did your father not encourage you to learn all you can from the off-worlders?" Conal's suggestion was met with a ruthless smile from the Prince. Obi-Wan caught the subtle signal in Tiye's eyes a fraction too late. Conal grabbed him from behind while Lucius dove forward to pull his legs out from under him. He could easily break free, but he hesitated; unwilling to risk a diplomatic incident by striking out against the Prince and his friends.

Still trying to decide how best to act he allowed them to wrestle him to the floor; it was only when they began tugging at his robe, amidst cries of, "Go on Tiye! See if he's a eunuch!" that he began to experience the first stirrings of panic. Hands clawing at him, pulling at his clothes. He began to struggle. Pretty, very pretty.

"Nooo!" Blindly he lashed out; his foot connected with flesh, drawing a resounding crunch, and a very satisfying squeal of pain.

"Oww!" His attackers abruptly broke off their assault, scrambling away, leaving him gasping on the floor.

His outer robe had been ripped off his back, it pooled out around him as he knelt, struggling to regain control of his emotions. The Prince sat a little to his right, Conal to his left, both boys still breathing hard. While Lucius, aided by Valen, was attempting to stem the flow of blood from a badly torn lip - evidently from where Obi-Wan's boot had connected with it.

Obi-Wan was still trying to drag himself back into the present, pushing back a sickly surge of fear, when a sound pulled on his attention. He looked up, as did the other boys, just as five armed guards stormed through the open doorway. Suddenly he knew what his dreams had been trying to tell him.

"Run."

"What...?" Tiye's expression switched from annoyance at the guards intrusion, to angry bafflement at Obi-Wan's urgent whisper.

"Run!" This time Obi-Wan shouted it, just as the closest guard thrust his spear towards the unsuspecting Prince's throat. In one swift movement Obi-Wan drew his lightsaber and blocked the blow, slicing the Neideran's weapon clean through. Still moving forwards, he leapt agily to his feet, and met the challenge of the second guard head on. He pulled his strike, catching the Neideran a disabling, but not killing thrust across the chest. Even as that guard stumbled and began to fall, he was aware of two others rushing towards the Prince.

Somersaulting over their heads he landed directly between them and a stunned Prince. He blocked one spear thrust, twirled and struck the other aside, before leaping up and kicking both assassin's in the chest, sending them staggering backwards. He followed through his assault by punching one guard in the face, bringing the handle of his lightsaber down to crack across the head of the other. He spun around again to face the last attacker, in time to witness Valen snatch up a discarded spear and stab the guard in the back. The guard's face twisted in pain as clawed uselessly at the weapon. The Neideran youth stared in horror as the guard crashed to his knees, emitting bloody gurgles as he fell.

Obi-wan grabbed the arm of the closest boy. "Come on!" It was Conal and he stared blankly at the Jedi, blinking stupidly.

"Wha...what?"

"There are more coming! We have to go! Now!" Impatiently he shook another boy, this time the tall sharp tongued Lucius.

"We have to get out of here!" He began to pull the unresisting young man along, just as the clattering approach of more guards broke the others from their shocked stupor. "Come on your highness!" Obi-Wan released hold of Lucius, who was now moving unaided towards the opposite doorway, and grabbed Valen, who still seemed dazed. Finally the others seemed to realize the approaching danger. Obi-Wan pushed Valen ahead of him as he brought up the rear.

They fled the chamber, racing down another long corridor to the stairwell at the end, only to discover a troop of guards already rushing up the steps towards them. His foot already on the first downward step Lucius stopped dead, the others tumbling into the back of him.

"Go up! Go up!" Lucius unfroze at Obi-Wan's shout and turning back the terrified youth scrambled after his companions as they disappeared up the ascending stairway.

Stepping out on to another corridor at the top Conal led the way, desperately trying the handle of every doorway he passed. Eventually one opened and with a gasping sob of relief he tumbled inside, the others close on his heels. Obi-Wan glanced back before he entered, the guards were practically upon him; with a darting movement of his hand, a large dresser pulled away from the wall crashing into the guards. Without pausing to see how effective his delaying tactic had been, Obi-wan ran into the room just as Tiye and Conal slammed the doors shut.

"There's no key!" At Conal's despairing wail, Obi-Wan stepped up pushing the youth unceremoniously aside. Unfortunately the Neideran was quite correct, there was no visible way of locking the door. Urgently scanning the room, his gaze fell on a nearby chair; snatching it up he quickly sliced off one ornate golden leg, sliding the piece between the door handles just as the first guard flung himself against it. The door rattled ominously, but held.....for now.

Switching off his lightsaber, Obi-Wan took advantage of the temporary respite to study his surroundings. They were in a relatively small room, at least by Neideran standards. It was well lit, the exterior wall consisting almost entirely of a row of huge windows; beginning at around waist height, and extending almost up to the high, decorative ceiling. There was only one door. Unlike many of the other rooms this one appeared to have been used to store furniture, mainly chairs, though against one wall was an enormous cabinet twice Obi-Wan's height, and almost the same again in breadth. He wandered over to it, eyeing it speculatively.

"What are you doing?!" Apparently the Prince had regained some of his composure. Obi-Wan ignore him. However, Tiye was undeterred by his silence. Leaving his companions, who were huddled against the far wall, he approached Obi-Wan. "I said what are you doing?!"

The Prince's haughty demand lost a little of its bite when the youth jumped, visibly shaken, as something struck the door violently. The repetitive pounding which followed suggested the guards had been successful in their search for a suitable battering ram.

Obi-Wan favored the Prince with a dry look. "I am looking for something to barricade that door." The Prince first glowered, then turned disbelieving, as he caught the meaning behind Obi-Wan's interest in the cabinet.

"That! We couldn't move that if we had an entire brigade of guards helping us!"

"Somehow your highness I don't think they would be disposed to helping us right now." The Prince snorted indelicately, but Obi-Wan ignored the youth's obvious disgust.

He focused his gaze, extending one arm out slowly. As he gently turned his hand over the cabinet it shuddered, then slowly rose up off the floor. Gliding smoothly across the room, it came to rest in front of the doorway, landing with barely a sound. Obi-Wan relaxed and smiled grimly.

"That should hold them for a little longer." He looked back into the room. Prince Tiye was edging away towards his friends; all four boys wore identical looks of fear and disbelief. He sighed. So much for being discreet

//Obi-Wan!//

//Master...?// Obi-Wan responded instinctively, falling upon the familiar use of his lover's formal title. In all the excitement he had forgotten to maintain his mental shields, and was caught by surprise. However he recovered quickly, and wasted no time informing Qui-Gon of the situation

//The guards are trying to kill Prince Tiye// He felt a wave of concern flow through their link, and knew Qui-Gon was afraid for him.

//Are you safe?//

//Yes, at least for now. We are secured in a room somewhere high up in the Palace, but I do not think we can remain here for very long.//

//Will you be safe there until I return?// Obi-Wan glanced over his shoulder, the cabinet was shaking with the force of the blows crashing against the door.

//I do not think so.// There was a pause as Qui-Gon digested this news.

//Until we know for certain if any of the Palace guards are still loyal, it may be safest to get the Prince out of there. Can you do that Obi- Wan?//

Obi-wan replied without hesitation. //Yes!//

//Try to make your way to me if you can. If that is not possible then find somewhere safe and stay there until I reach you. Take care my love//

The unexpected endearment left him momentarily stunned; then, much to the consternation of the watching Neiderans, he broke into a joyful grin. //I will! I love you too!// He felt, rather than heard Qui-Gon's response, as his lover flooded their link with emotion. He let it flow through him, filling the spaces torn apart by fear and unhappiness. He responded in kind, letting his own love drift back to Qui-Gon, before they both withdrew to concentrate on the situation at hand.

Chapter XX - Obi-Wan

Since the only doorway was obviously not an option, Obi-Wan turned his attention to the only other possible exit.

"Stand back from the windows."

"Why?! What are you going to do?!" Obi-Wan shot the Prince a sharp glance, gritting his teeth.

"Please you highness, just stand back" The Prince frowned and seemed about to offer further protest when Conal stepped up and tugged at Tiye's arm gently.

"Do as he says Tiye." With obvious reluctance, the Prince moved away from the window.

"Further" The Prince's scowl deepened, but he complied.

Obi-Wan waited until all four youths were backed up against the wall. Drawing in a deep breath, he slowly raised one arm. He paused a moment to gather himself, then thrust his hand sharply toward the windows. Almost simultaneously they exploded, sending a shower of crystal shards raining down into the courtyard below. He barely waited until the last of the glass had fallen before running and leaping nimbly up on to the ledge; clinging to the window frame with one hand he leaned out.

He immediately concluded it was too far to jump. He might survive the drop, but the Neiderans certainly wouldn't, and the smooth walls provided no means of climbing down. Balancing himself carefully he stretched out a little further and looked up. The overhang of the roof was a possibility, for someone who possessed Jedi abilities, which unfortunately his charges did not.

Frowning, his attention was drawn to the stonework on his left. The ornate scrolls and elaborate carvings looked like they could provide useful purchase for hands and feet. He quickly decided that, with a little effort on the Neideran's part, it would be possible to use the wall's carved relief to climb up onto the roof above. From there they could make their way across the rooftops, until they could find a suitable point from which to climb down.

"What are you doing now?!"

Obi-Wan lightly jumped back into the room. His annoyance faded slightly as he realized that, despite the Prince's petulant tone, the youth was clearly frightened. "We are leaving, your Highness."

"Leaving?!" Obi-Wan ignored Conal's exclamation his eyes still on the Prince. He watched as royalty reasserted itself and Tiye regained some of his former composure.

"And how exactly do you propose we do that since you have blocked our only exit?!"

"Not our only exit your Highness." The Prince stared at him obviously confounded. Obi-Wan looked toward the windows and the Prince followed his gaze. Suddenly Tiye's eyebrows shot up in comprehension. However, it was Conal who spoke.

"You....you aren't serious?!" Obi-Wan's expression said he was completely serious. "We'll be killed!"

Tiye turned an angry, fearful gaze upon Obi-Wan "Jedi may be able to fly like cantarii, but we cannot!"

"There will be no need to fly your Highness." Obi-Wan kept his voice calm and quiet, mindful of the fear behind the young Prince's fury."We can climb up the wall."

"Up?!"

"It is not possible to climb down from here, your Highness."

Reluctantly the Prince seemed to accept some of what Obi-Wan was saying; though Conal looked like he was going to offer further protest. However, whatever else the youth might have said was lost as Lucius let out a sudden yelp, pointing frantically towards the blocked doorway. As Obi-Wan followed the boy's terrified gaze he suddenly realized the pounding from outside had stopped.

He soon saw what had caused the boy's cry of alarm, tendrils of thick black smoke were beginning to curl up from under the cabinet.

"They're going to burn us alive!"

"No!" Obi-Wan responded grimly to Lucius's wail. "They're trying to smoke us out." He was already running back to the window as he spoke, springing up onto the sill he extended a hand to the nearest youth. "Come on!"

Conal hesitated and then took it. Obi-Wan effortlessly hoisted the young man up beside him. ìI'll lead, watch closely and follow me exactly, alright?" Conal nodded, his fear palpable. Obi-Wan offered the youth what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Just don't look down." He turned to the others in the room, the smoke was already beginning to swirl around them, forming a thick choking cloud. "Follow him." Obediently Lucius shuffled forward, dragging Valen with him. After a brief challenging pause the Prince s tepped up beside them.

Chapter XXI

Obi-Wan checked his lightsaber was secure on his belt before stepping out onto the outside ledge. He wasn't concerned by the drop below, he had performed exercises at the Jedi Temple far higher up than this. However, he was concerned about the safety of his companions. Qui-Gon had charged him with their protection; even had he not, Obi-Wan would still have been bound to help them. But knowing that his Master had entrusted him with this task made him even more aware of the responsibility.

This climb presented no challenge to him, but he would have to travel slowly to ensure the Neiderans could follow. He also realized he was going to have to think his steps through carefully - and make sure he was making allowances for their lack of Jedi abilities. Conal had already clambered out after him and now stood, clinging to the remenents of the window frame, trembling slightly. With an ease no doubt the Neideran youth envied, Obi-Wan launched himself off the ledge.

He landed effortlessly and, quickly catching hold of an ornately curved scroll with one hand, he balanced a foot on a delicately carved leaf. Twisting himself, he turned back to face the window, and held out a hand to the waiting boy.

"Come on."

The terrified youth edged nervously towards him, and then stopped. "I....I can't!" The boy's eyes flickered downward.

"Don't look down!" At the sharp command Conal immediately looked up again. Obi-Wan softened his voice. "Alright." He leaned over as far as he physically could. "Now, just focus on me. Don't look anywhere else, just look at me."

He waited until the young man did as he had said. "Good. Now reach for my hand. Just take a deep breath and jump for it. I'll catch you." Conal stared at him, pale and shaking; there was no trace of the arrogant young nobleman who had cruelly taunted him.

Suddenly the boy jumped, grabbing desperately at Obi-Wan. For a moment the young man hung, suspended over nothing, legs scrabbling frantically against the wall, struggling to find purchase; Obi-Wan fought to hold on to the wildly twisting youth. Grimacing he managed to hoist Conal up, holding the boy against the wall until, finally, the young Neideran found a foothold.

Eyes closed tight Conal clung, white-knuckled and shaking. Obi-Wan put his arm around the young man's shoulders and held him until the tremors stopped. When they did, he addressed the boy calmly. "Open your eyes." Still clearly terrified Conal obeyed. "Good. Now look up." The Neideran responded slowly. "See," Obi-Wan encouraged, "you're nearly on the roof already. Just reach up and take hold of that figure then pull yourself up"

The boy followed his gaze "I...I can't!"

"Yes you can."

Conal took several, deep, shuddering breaths, then reached up with one hand. With, what seemed to Obi-Wan, agonizing slowness the boy's fingers felt out the statue, and then slowly, carefully the boy began to climb. He waited until the youth was well above him before releasing a soft sigh and calling out for the next boy. "Lucius, come on. You're next."

Smoke was already beginning to billow out of the broken window; coughing, hands over their mouths, the remaining Neiderans had already climbed out onto the ledge. Nervous, but slightly bolstered by his friend's progress, Lucius barely hesitated before leaping for Obi- Wan's outstretched hand. The taller youth managed the jump a little more easily than his companion, and was soon clambering up in pursuit.

Valen, still shocky after striking down the guard, followed, moving almost mechanically. Tiye came last. Obi-Wan was afraid the Prince would refuse his help but the youth took his hand, quickly found his own purchase, and began the ascent. As Obi-Wan made to follow there was a resounding crash, signaling the cabinet had finally given way beneath the guard's onslaught. In the next instant two of them appeared at the window, teary eyed from the smoke. Barely pausing to take aim, they flung their spears towards him.

One struck the wall and clattered away harmlessly, the other he deflected easily. Before it too could fall, he gave sudden twist of his hand and snatched it from the air. He flashed the startled guards a wicked grin and threw it, embedding it in the window frame. The guards stared at the quivering spear in amazement before withdrawing rapidly amid excited, panicked shouts. Obi-Wan didn't wait to see if any more would arrive, before he too began to climb.

Chapter XXII - Obi-Wan

The rooftop above was a huge, pale green dome, surrounded by a narrow sun-warmed ledge. The four young Neiderans crouched, huddled together, well away from the edge. Lucius had an arm around Valen and was talking softly to the unresponsive boy. Obi-Wan wasted no time getting them to their feet, ushering them forward along the ledge.

They made good progress since the Palace buildings were tightly crammed together, with little or no space between them; Obi-Wan led the way, some of his sure-footed confidence transferring itself to the rest of the group. He glanced back from time to time; the Prince was clearly unhappy but kept up the pace, Lucius was preoccupied assisting Valen, who scarcely seemed aware of his surroundings. Only Conal was really struggling; Obi-Wan watched the boy closely, offering encouragement whenever he sensed the youth faltering. Spotting one of the aerial walkways which led into the city, he made towards it. He theorized it would take very little effort to get onto the walkway from the roof ledge closest to it; however, in order for them to reach the ledge they would first have to cross the wide gap separating them from it. It would not be easy to get the Neiderans across it, however there was clearly no alternative. Hoping to at least waylay their fears slightly, he approached the gap with deliberate calm, clearing it with ease. The other boys stopped abruptly at the edge.

"It's not as far as it looks." Obi-Wan positioned himself as far out on the edge as he dare. "Jump, I'll grab you." The boys exchanged wary looks, but something in his tone must have convinced Lucius. After pausing to whisper something to Valen, the tall Neideran stepped away from his silent friend, took a running jump, and threw himself across the gap.

Hoping it would pass unnoticed, Obi-Wan used a touch of the Force to draw the boy towards him; grasping the young man's arms he pulled him onto the ledge. However, as he made to release the boy, Lucius tightened his grip. Obi-Wan stared at the youth and was taken aback by the gratitude in the young man's eyes. "Thank you." Stunned Obi- Wan just nodded, as Lucius released him and stepped away from the edge.

With characteristic determination Tiye followed, needing only a little Force nudge from Obi-Wan to clear the gap; Lucius assisting in pulling the Prince to safety. All three then voiced encouragement to the remaining two boys. Valen responded quickly to their urgings, perhaps eager to rejoin Lucius; he barely took any run, almost stepping off the ledge. Again Obi-Wan reached out with the Force and lifted the boy towards them, enabling the others to reach out and catch hold, apparently still unaware of anything untoward.

As Obi-Wan looked up to call the last boy, he immediately noticed two guards racing across the rooftops towards him. Lucius and Tiye witnessed their arrival simultaneously, calling out in chorus to their friend.

"Jump Conal! Jump!"

"Come on!"

But the boy had frozen, too terrified to move. One of the guards poised ready to throw his spear at the petrified youth.

Drawing his lightsaber Obi-Wan somersaulted back over, clearing both the ledge and Conal to land behind the boy; striking away the spear he charged the guards. The now unarmed Neideran fled, his companion raised his p'tchuks and rushed at Obi-Wan, only to be disarmed in one stroke. The Neideran raised his arms in surrender, Obi-Wan stepped back and motioned the guard away with his saber.

The guard didn't hesitate, turning immediately to follow the other. However, even as Obi-Wan watched the guard retreat, more were approaching from the other side. Obi-Wan stood his ground shouting over his shoulder to Conal.

"Go! Go!" Finally the boy responded. Taking a wild running leap, he wailed as he launched himself across the gap. As Lucius and Tiye both reached for the boy, Obi-Wan looked back and made a slight gesture with his hand propelling the youth forwards into their waiting hands.

With the last of his charges safely across Obi-Wan turned and raced back to the edge, somersaulting back over to land beside them. Ignoring their amazed stares he set off at once, calling for them to follow; alarmed by the rapidly approaching troops they needed little encouragement. Reaching the end of the Palace they crossed over onto the walkway and Obi-Wan motioned the boys ahead of him as he turned to face the oncoming guards.

The Neiderans were well trained but they were no match for a Jedi, only their numbers presented any kind of a challenge. He parried blows with deceptive ease, moving faster than they could follow. Kicking out at one guard he caught the unfortunate Neideran off balance and sent him plummeting to the ground below. The others continued to press their attack but Obi-Wan clearly had the advantage, and gradually they began to fall back, until he stood alone.

Turning away he staggered as a wave of dizziness passed through him, however it faded quickly and he hurried to rejoin the others. They were not far ahead, having stopped when he engaged the guards; uncertain whether to flee or stay and try to help. Greeting his return with obvious relief, Lucius' expression changed to shock as he stared at Obi-Wan wide-eyed. "You're bleeding!"

Obi-Wan looked down, the right side of his robe was stained with blood; as he touched it fire flared through him. Grimacing, a quick examination revealed a long, but fortunately shallow slice, where a spear had grazed across his ribs. He looked back up at the worried boy and tried to smile reassuringly at the worried youth. "I'm fine. Come on, we can't stay here!" Ignoring the throbbing ache in his side he set off briskly towards the city.

Chapter XXIII - Obi-Wan

"Wait!" Obi-Wan turned back impatiently to face the Prince.

"Yes, your highness?"

"I demand to know where you are taking us?!" Resisting the urge to shake the petulant boy, Obi-Wan shook his head, turning away as he spoke.

"The city."

Tiye caught hold of him. "No!"

"I don't have time to discuss this with you, your highness."

"You cannot command me!" The Prince drew himself up imperiously. "We will wait here until someone comes to assist us."

Obi-Wan bit his tongue, just holding back a sharp retort. He looked at the other boys. It was quickly apparent only adrenaline and fear had brought them this far, and it clearly wouldn't take them much further. However, he knew it was vital to press on.

"Your highness who exactly should we wait for?" His voice grew steadily colder as he struggled to keep the sarcasm from his reply. "Your own guards are attacking us!" He saw his words were having an effect and he softened his tone. "Our only hope is to reach my Master and your father."

Still they hesitated, and this time the pause proved costly. More guards appeared, clattering across the Palace rooftops towards them. Obi-Wan felt his blood chill as he realized another group had circled around to attack from direction of the city. They were trapped.

He quickly calculated the guards coming from the Palace would reach them first. Face set, he turned to face them, poised and ready. Lucius picked up a fallen spear and took up the rear, facing out towards the city guards, and after a moment Tiye joined him. Conal and Valen huddled in between, panic stricken.

However, even as he prepared to meet the first onslaught, Obi-Wan felt a familiar presence brush against his mind, and he knew at once that Qui-Gon was close. Looking around he allowed his Bond link to guide him; coming up behind the city guards was his Bond mate and, lightsaber already drawn, the older Jedi plunged into the battle.

Even as he experienced a rush of of fear for his lover, Obi-Wan felt his spirits soar to have Qui-Gon fighting at his side. Turning back to meet his attackers, he launched himself into the battle.

Though attacking from opposite directions, the two Jedi still acted almost as a single entity; each perfectly attuned to the other's movements. With unnerving speed and skill they executed seemingly impossible maneuvers with cool efficiency.

By the time Menatep and the loyal Royal troops had reached Qui-Gon, the brief battle was all but over. The last remaining guards dropped their weapons and stood defeated. Several of Menatep's men rushed forward to secure the prisoners, and surround the young noblemen protectively; others continued on toward the Palace. Even as the Prince came forward to embrace his son, Qui-Gon had deactivated his lightsaber and was moving toward his Bond mate.

Chapter XXIV - Qui-Gon

Following the captured assassin's frightening declaration, Menatep had immediately assembled his men to march on the Palace. Neider had no standing army, but the Royal guards combined with Officers of the City and the Council's own troops presented a formidable force.

The prisoner had not been very forthcoming after his initial boasting, but after further 'coaxing' he had supplied a name - Cauda, the Captain of the Palace guards, and, it now appeared, a key figure in the assassination plot. Since Cauda had no doubt recruited men of a similar ilk, the general assumption was that most, if not all of them would have joined the revolt. However the Palace guards were relatively few in number, and crushing the uprising was not expected to present a challenge. Their only fear was what they would find when it was over.

As they rode upon the Palace the Baresh proved they could indeed move at great speed, despite the narrow twisting streets. Within sight of the Palace they pulled up their mounts and Menatep began directing his men. Struggling to calm his spiraling fear for Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon reached out through their Bond. Guided by the Force, he closed his eyes and attempted to locate the younger man. When he did he started suddenly, and steered his mount towards the Prince.

"How can I get up there?!"

The urgency of his tone caught Menatep's attention, the Prince broke off from addressing a group of City guards and glanced at him distractedly, "What?"

Qui-Gon indicated the walkway above. "Up there! How can I get up there?!"

"Why-"

Qui-Gon cut in impatiently. "Your son is up there, with Obi-Wan."

Menatep fixed him with a hard, disbelieving stare. "How can you be certain of that?!" Qui-Gon met the Prince's glare unwaveringly, silently willing the Neideran to accept his words without explanation.

Menatep turned his sharp gaze upwards, but it was obvious that anyone on the walkway would be impossible to see from the streets below. The Prince spared Qui-Gon another hard look, then signaled to one of his officers. "Take your men into the Palace."

"Yes your Highness!"

"You!" Menatep called out to another officer. "Bring your men and come with me." Turning back to Qui-Gon, the Prince's voice was cold. "I hope you know what you are doing Jedi.î Qui-Gon simply nodded and followed the Prince as he turned his mount around.

They had to go back several streets to gain access to the walkway. Qui-Gon felt his anxiety for Obi-Wan increase with every step. Face pale and drawn, Menatep's mood was distinctly chilly, but the Prince seemed prepared to trust the Jedi's judgment, at least for the time being.

Leaving their Baresh, they set out along the walkway on foot. Heading back towards the Palace, Qui-Gon noticed a number of Palace guards crossing over at an intersection ahead. He soon saw the reason why. The men were attempting to come up behind a small group further along the walkway, who stood apparently unaware of the danger.

Obi-Wan Drawing his lightsaber, Qui-Gon pushed past a startled Menatep and with Jedi speed raced towards his Bond mate. He was upon the Palace guards before they had time to sense his approach, striking the first across the face with the handle of his saber, he sent another staggering backwards with a motion of his hand.

Despite his desperate desire to reach Obi-Wan he controlled his attack, moving forwards with cool efficiency. Executing disabling rather than killing blows. When the last attacker threw down his weapon in defeat, Qui-Gon paused and stepped back. He waited until Menatep's men brushed past him to secure the prisoners before deactivating his lightsaber and reaching for Obi-Wan.

Chapter XXV

Moving swiftly, he drew the unresisting young man into a fierce embrace. Enfolding his arms around the boy he held the youth tight against him, as he struggled to rein in his scattered emotions. Resting his cheek against the boy's soft hair, he immersed himself the sight, scent and feel of Obi-Wan.

"My beloved." The words were barely a murmur, inaudible to anyone but Obi-Wan. However, he felt the young man jerk slightly in response. Drawing back a little he cupped Obi-Wan's face gently and lifted it to his; losing himself momentarily in the storm colored gaze.

//Forgive me Obi-Wan?// Troubled gray-green stared at him uncomprehending. //I have made a grave error in judgement.// He sensed as well as saw the fear which flooded the boy's mind, and felt a stab guilt. Oh my love do you still doubt me? Grieved, he hastened to dispel the boy's alarm. //My mistake was to try and distance myself from you.// The fear faded slightly, though the confusion remained. He smiled and looked deep into his beloved's eyes. //I have learned I can no more exist without my Bond mate, than I could without the Force.//

He felt the coldness which had unknowingly settled over his heart, drift away as gradually the young man's face softened into a smile of understanding. He answered with a smile of his own, and Obi-Wan's face relaxed into a familiar impudent grin. //Perhaps you can make it up to me?// The teasing tone was welcome, but he didn't miss the glimmer of uncertainty behind it, and he put all the strength of his love in his reply. //In any way I can.//

His heart quickened at the look in Obi-Wan's eyes, then missed a beat as his gaze suddenly fell upon a streak of scarlet which smeared the boy's cheek. With dawning horror he traced it to the bloody gore staining his own fingertips. "You're hurt!"

"A scratch, I'm fine, Master.î The young man's attempt to shrug off the injury did nothing to quell Qui-Gon's mounting panic. He tried to examine the youth, as Obi- Wan tried to pull away protesting. "I'm fine, I...-" The boy's eyes suddenly rolled back as he dropped heavily. Qui-Gon caught the youth and lowered him gently to the walkway, where he half knelt, cradling the boy against his chest.

"Obi-Wan!" His desperate cry had brought the Prince rushing to his side, though he was unaware of the fact until the Neideran lay a hand upon his arm to draw his attention.

"Come, bring the boy to the Palace." At Qui-Gon's unspoken query, Menatep nodded. "My men have signaled that it is safe to return.î Grim faced, Qui-Gon stood; sweeping the boy up into his arms he followed the Prince and their escort back along the walkway.

They had only traveled a short distance when Obi-Wan began to stir, squirming slightly in Qui-Gon's embrace. //Be still Obi-Wan//

//Master, I can walk...//Qui-Gon silenced the youth's protests with a look. Obi-Wan ceased in his weakened attempts to break free; instead meekly turning his face into Qui-Gon's neck.

Chapter XXVI

Upon their arrival at the Palace it seemed to Qui-Gon that every servant and resident had assembled in the great hall. The Herald Junubae fluttering amongst them, a bright blur of orange, struggling to bring order to the chaos. The Palace guards had been grouped together; they now sat, tired and subdued in defeat, surrounded by a contingent of Menatep's Royal troops.

Qui-Gon gently laid Obi-Wan upon a couch and proceeded to carefully remove the young man's lightsaber and belt. Lifting up the boys tunic he was unable to suppress a gasp as he exposed a long bloody gash. He calmed a little as it became apparent that the boy had spoken the truth, and the wound was not serious. However, he was still concerned by the young man's sudden loss of consciousness and his current startling pallor. Menatep called to his Herald and sent the man in search of the physician.

After an agony of waiting Junubae finally returned, carrying a large silver bowl filled with water; behind him came the Physician. The Neideran agreed with the Jedi's assessment that the wound was not serious, and cleaned and bandaged it with brisk efficiency. He did however express his concern at Obi-Wan's general poor state of health, observing that it was clearly some time since the young man had slept or eaten properly. Obi-Wan sat silent throughout, only answering with a brief "Yes sir" when instructed to rest and eat to speed his recovery.

His ministrations completed the Physician departed, after giving Qui- Gon a long hard look. It wasn't necessary, Qui-Gon had listened to the Physician's words with a sinking heart. Again it seemed he had been ignorant of his lover's suffering. He didn't understand how it could be possible....they were Bonded! Surely he would have known if all was not well? He made a silent vow that never again would he allow Obi- Wan to suffer because of his blind dedication to his Jedi duties. As important as his way of life was to him, it would be an empty existence without Obi-Wan.

"Junubae"

"Yes your Highness?"

"Assist Master Jinn." The Herald bowed obediently. Menatep turned to Qui-Gon. "Perhaps it would be better for you to keep the boy with you in your quarters." Surprised, but grateful, Qui-Gon thanked the Prince, who simply smiled and nodded before moving away.

Since the boy's wound was considerably less serious than he had first feared, Qui-Gon reluctantly gave way to Obi-Wan's plea to be allowed to walk; instead, having assisted the young man to his feet, he placed a steadying arm around the youth's shoulders. He was relieved when Obi-Wan made no protest, simply leaning into the support.

Chapter XXVII

Once they reached their quarters Junubae left them. Entering his suite, Qui-Gon led the boy through into the bedchamber. Directing the youth to sit upon the bed, he knelt and began to remove Obi-Wan's boots.

"Master-"

"We are alone Obi-Wan. If you can, I would very much prefer it if you would address me as Qui-Gon."

"But...I thought..?" The young man broke off bewildered.

Qui-Gon smiled sadly. "It was wrong of me, Obi-Wan, to try and resume the pretense of our former relationship." Laying down the boots, he took both of Obi-Wan's hands in his. "I am still your Master Obi-Wan, but I am also your Bond mate. I know now that even if we must, on occasion, conceal that fact from others, we can never deny the existance of our Bond to ourselves." He released the young man's hands and bowed his head. "I can only ask for your forgiveness. It would seem that as a Bond mate I still have much to learn."

As he knelt before his Padawan lover he felt the young man reach out to him through their Bond link, the uncertainty of the touch was more than he could stand; looking up his heart clenched as he met the boy's tear-filled gaze. As he touched Obi-Wan's mind a flood of emotion poured forth - love, desire, need, joy, sorrow, fear, loneliness. Overcome he took the boy into his arms, seeking comfort as much as giving it. They sat, clinging to each other almost desperately. Qui-Gon felt the boy's tears damp against his chest, unashamedly his own tears flowed with them.

Eventually they both calmed enough to draw back a little from one another; he still held on to the boy's hands.

//Forgive Me?//

The boy managed a teary smile, //Anything.//.

Unable to speak, Qui-Gon closed his eyes. When he opened them Obi- Wan was watching him; he leaned forwards, capturing soft lips in a gentle, almost chaste kiss; tasting salt and sadness. His voice shook. "My love. I once said you were a wiser man than I, little did I know how much wiser."

A hand reached out and touched his face lightly. "I have a good teacher." He opened his mouth to speak but fingers fluttered over his lips silencing him. "I could wish for no better Master, or Bond mate." This time it was Obi-Wan who initiated the kiss, he opened his lips to the boy's gentle coaxing and felt the young man's tongue flicker out to slide between them. He moaned softly against the onslaught, his own tongue thrusting slickly against the boy's. Need consumed him - sharp and demanding; Obi-Wan pushed up against him no less desperate A swift stab of pain broke through his pleasure even as the boy tried to hide it.

He pulled away, trying not to let his eyes linger on kiss swollen lips and flushed cheeks. //You need to rest my love.// He shook his head when the young man started to protest. "Obi-Wan please, your wound needs time to heal."

With a dramatic sigh the young man conceded, grumbling peevishly, "You cannot expect me to sleep now? "

Gently he tapped a finger against the boy's forehead, creased in a petulant frown. "I can, and I do."

Rolling his eyes, the youth allowed Qui-Gon to divest him of the remainder of his clothing and assist him into bed. The sight of the boy's bandaged torso was enough to diminish Qui-Gon's arousal. Laying the boy's tunic on a chair he leaned over and placed a light kiss on the youth's mouth, nimbly avoiding the arm which tried to snake up and hold him there. //Sleep!// He barely held back a smile as Obi- Wan's mouth set in a definite pout. Using the barest suggestion of the Force he waved his hand over the boy's face. //Sleep love, I am here.// The young man's eyes fluttered drowsily; Qui-Gon waited until he felt the boy's consciousness drift away, before returning to the main room.

Chapter XXVIII

He had sensed his visitor enter the suite as he helped Obi-Wan into bed, and was not surprised to find Menatep stood waiting for his return.

"Ah, Master Jinn, I hope you will forgive the intrusion." Qui-Gon nodded. Smiling the Prince looked relieved but his expression quickly shifted into weary disillusionment. "I cannot believe this....Please believe that I never thought for a moment that you would be in any real danger here." Sighing, the Prince walked over to the window; he looked out in silence for a moment before continuing. "I never realized that my people would ever consider...." Menatep's voice trailed off; he turned back to face Qui-Gon, eyes suspiciously bright. "I owe you the life of my child Jedi," the Prince swallowed obviously trying to contain his emotion. "I will not forget what you have done."

A little taken aback by the Prince's emotional declaration, it was a moment before Qui-Gon found his voice; but when he did he hastened to correct the Prince. "You owe me nothing your Highness, I am honored to have been able to help. Besides which it was Obi-Wan who saved Prince Tiye."

Having regained some control the Prince nodded, then looked at Qui- Gon enquiringly. "I am curious. How did you know that they were on that walkway?" Qui-Gon hesitated, uncertain how to answer the Prince's question without alluding to the Force. His response proved unnecessary as Menatep apparently drew his own conclusion. "Because you are Jedi?" It was clear from the look in the Prince's eyes that it wasn't really intended as a question.

Cautiously, Qui-Gon nodded. "Yes your Highness there....there is a bond between us."

Menatep appeared satisfied with his simple explanation, but in the next instant the Prince's expression grew sly. "But not just because you are Jedi?"

Genuinely puzzled, Qui-Gon spoke without thinking, "Your Highness?"

"I think perhaps because you are also....lovers. Yes?"

Completely stunned Qui-Gon stared, practically open mouthed, at the smiling Neideran. Even as he found his voice and prepared to speak, he wondered if the Prince would accept his denial. Then he stopped.

He could detect no censor or disapproval from the Prince, no underlying trickery, just a speculative, teasing warmth. It had been his choice, not the Council's, to conceal the truth of his relationship with Obi-Wan from the Neiderans. Was it really necessary to maintain the a charade? Qui-Gon was a deeply private man, but he did not wish to appear ashamed of his feelings for his Padawan. Un-Jedi like or not, he was proud to have the beautiful, gifted, and intelligent young man as his Bond mate. Having made his decision he spoke, his voice clear and strong. "Yes, your Highness. Our Bond is stronger because we are lovers."

Menatep's smile widened, seemingly delighted to have his suspicions proved correct. "I hope I have not caused offense?"

"No, your Highness."

To his dismay, it seemed the Prince had not finished with this line of questioning as Menatep feigned confusion "It is customary then for your people to conceal their relationships?"

Qui-Gon winced inwardly. "No your highness, it is not the custom amongst my people; though it is on some worlds." Menatep still looked at him expectantly. "We...I did not wish to offend anyone if the nature of our relationship was unacceptable to you or your people.î

Menatep looked genuinely surprised. "Unacceptable? In what way?" Slightly uncomfortable, Qui-Gon was saved from further explanations by Menatep's sudden look of understanding. "Oh!" He was surprised however, when the Prince abruptly laughed. "Please forgive me my friend!" Menatep just managed to speak through his amusement. "But perhaps you should take a closer interest in our art." At Qui-Gon's perplexed look the Prince waved a hand towards the cabinet. "That statue would be an excellent place to start." Bewildered, the Jedi simply nodded.

Menatep quickly calmed himself, his face becoming grave once more. "I actually came to tell you I think it would be best for you and your companion to leave at the earliest opportunity. I have already had a communicay sent. A ship should arrive to collect you in the morning." Qui-Gon had most certainly not been expecting this and his concern must have been evident to the Neideran, who hastened to explain. "Please my friend, understand. My people are afraid," the Prince sighed. "More so than I thought. It would seem that I have been pushing them to accept too much, too soon." He smiled again, this time in grim determination. "Change will come. It must. But I think I must give my people more time to grow used the idea of change, before I confront them with it. You do understand, I hope?"

Qui-Gon did, and though he knew the senate would be displeased, privately he agreed with the Prince. It would seem that some of Menatep's slightly overbearing confidence had been shaken by the uprising. "Yes, your Highness, I understand."

Relieved, the Prince made to leave; crossing the room he approached Qui-Gon and took the Jedi's hand, clasping it firmly. "I will not forget what you have done for me Qui-Gon Jinn, nor young Obi-Wan Kenobi. You both have the eternal friendship and gratitude of Menatep Gjanerii." Qui-Gon met the deep sincerity in the Prince's hazel eyes and wordlessly voiced his acceptance. Smiling, the Prince released him. "We will not meet again before your departure, but I hope one day our paths will cross in happier times." With that Menatep left, though not before casting his eyes towards the small sculpture.

Intrigued, Qui-Gon waited until the door closed behind the Prince before giving the statue a closer examination; he was still baffled by it. Carefully he picked it up, finding it surprisingly light. He held it up to the light, turning it this way and that. He was about to admit defeat when he noticed the shadow cast by the piece upon the wall, and almost dropped it. Studying it closer he grinned, before gently putting it back on the cabinet. It seemed that not all Neideran art was obvious. Whoever had designed this piece had created a sculpture the true nature of which could only be viewed by its shadow. Once looked at that way, the image was obvious, if a little abstract....it was unmistakably two Neideran males engaged in what could only be an act of very vigorous foreplay.

Still smiling, Qui-Gon wandered back through into the sleeping quarters; moving silently he removed his clothing. Exhausted, he carefully lay down beside his still sleeping Padawan; swiftly joining him in dreamless slumber.

Chapter XXIX

He awoke to darkness, and the sensation of soft but persistent fingers lightly brushing against his thigh. //Obi-Wan?//

//Yes Master?// Not fooled for an instant by his Padawan's innocent tone, he rolled over onto his side capturing the teasing touch within his own much larger hand. His breath caught at the moon-lit vision beside him.

Naked amidst the discarded sheets, his lover lay stretched out in a loose limbed sprawl; an ethereal creature bathed in silver and shadow. Releasing hold of the boy's hand, he raised his own. Almost reverently he brushed it over the young man's face, sketching out the features with his fingertips. Lightly stroking soft brows, following the clear, smooth line of high wide cheekbones, down to the strong stubborn tilt of the boy's jaw. He moved lower, gently guiding his touch along the delicate pale skin of the young man's throat. Feeling the reassuring pulse of his Bond mate's heartbeat, he stopped and allowed its strong rhythm to soothe him.

Gradually he became aware of Obi-Wan watching him quizzically. He smiled, drawing his hand back up to rest against one warm cheek. "I love you." Pupils widened to inky blackness as the confusion melted from the boy's gray-green gaze.

"I need you." Obi-Wan made no attempt to hide his desperation. Qui-Gon made one last, still-born attempt to bank down his own growing arousal; but even as the boy reached for him he knew he could not fight this.

Trembling with the force of his desire, but mindful of the boy's wound, he supported himself over the youth on shaking arms. The younger man drew his head down, capturing his lips in a searing kiss.

Even as the youth moaned his own pleasure, Qui-Gon was lost. Sensation exploded through every cell, as a wave of pure white heat blazed through him. Fighting desperately not to lose the fine edge of his control, he almost surrendered it entirely as Obi-Wan, seemingly oblivious to his injury, arched up against him. Gasping, he broke the kiss.

"No!" The denial broke from the boy as a sob.

"Ssh, no, it's alright my love."

"Please...I...need...I must....please...." The words faded into mewls of frustration, as, beyond speech, Obi-Wan writhed up against him. With one hand upon the boy's hip he gently pushed the boy down, and held him still.

//Obi-Wan?// The boy whimpered piteously. //Obi-Wan?// Qui-Gon waited until, glassy-eyed, the boy looked at him. //Beloved, I will do whatever you wish, but you must be still. I will not let you hurt yourself.// The boy lay gasping; until, calming a little, he nodded.

//Please, I need you// Smiling, he gently curled his fingers around the boy's slender braid.

//I need you too, always, never doubt it// At the unceratin look in his lover's eyes, he took the boy's mouth, devouring it with a forceful kiss //Never// When he pulled back it was gone, replaced with an almost feral hunger. He responded with his own predatory look. //Now lie still my love, and let me pleasure you// Breathlessly the boy nodded, lying still and compliant beneath his hands.

Qui-Gon took a moment to gather himself. As desperate as he was for this encounter, he would as soon cut out his own heart as risk hurting the younger man. He lowered himself to lie next to the boy, drawing forth another whimper as his erection brushed against the youth. Raising himself up on one elbow, he let his free hand wander and explore.

He began where he had left off, at the base of the boy's throat. Again he found the pulsebeat, quicker this time, a pounding echo of his own racing heart. Slowly he moved lower, fingers sliding over hot, slick skin. Lovingly he stroked round the curve of one pectoral, repeating the gesture as the boy bit his lip to stifle a cry. Moving to the other side he did the same, tracing the definition of the muscle, feeling it tighten beneath his touch. Unable to hold back any longer, the boy gave a quiet wordless plea.

Completing one last teasing circle, Qui-Gon let his touch spiral inwards, drawing closer and closer, until at last his fingers brushed up against one taut nipple. Obi-Wan lifted his head off the pillow with a cry, and Qui-Gon withdrew.

//Lie still.// He waited until the boy had lowered himself back down, before resuming his thorough exploration. First he stroked over it, barely touching the turgid flesh, then abruptly he seized it between his thumb and forefinger, applying enough gentle pressure to elicit another cry. Just as abruptly he released it; only to lean forward and lathe it with his tongue. The boy writhed beneath the maddening stimulus, but not enough to warrant his withdrawal.

Pulling back a little, he blew softly against the still moist flesh. Obi- Wan was murmuring nonsensically, hands driving into the bed. Through their link Qui-Gon received an intoxicating rush of emotion, as the boy flooded it with sensations of lust, and need. He was forced to draw back a little or risk losing the brittle hold he had over his control.

Placing a firm kiss, then a soft bite against the boy's side, he drew the lean flesh into his mouth a little, before releasing it. Moving slowly downwards he let his tongue trail along scorched skin, until it nudged the crease between hip and thigh. Raising his head he drank in the sight of his young lover, head thrown back exposing the pale arc of his throat; incoherent with need, hands grasping.

Maneuvering himself, he slipped between the boy's parted thighs; kneeling he used both his hands to gently push them open still further. Stroking down the inside of the young man's legs, he enjoyed the sensation of smooth, sleek muscle, trembling under his fingers. He slid his hands lower, cupping firm buttocks and lifting them slightly, as with a sigh Obi-Wan thrust against him. The sigh became a moan as he withdrew; then a gasp as his fingers swept upwards, fluttering over the smooth flat plane of the boy's stomach, almost but not quite touching the rigid flesh which strained against it.

He skirted around the boy's erection, letting his fingers play across the silken skin, until, encountering the frayed bandage edge he stopped; suddenly dragged back from the edge of his desire. Momentarily lost, he started a little when his hand was suddenly caught in a desperate grip, and his eyes rose up to meet Obi-Wan's fierce green gaze.

//Touch me//

The burning need in the boy's eyes renewed the flame. Pulling his hand free, placing one either side of the youth's hips, he dropped his head down to the boy's erection, flickering out his tongue to lap up the pre-cum glistening on its tip. He swirled the bittersweet essence around his mouth, savoring the taste of his lover; then drew away again, blowing lightly over the twitching flesh. Dipping back, he ran his tongue down the length, flicking it against one swollen sac, rolling it lightly.

Whispering in tongues, Obi-Wan arched up, Qui-Gon sensed the change and knew the young man was close. Without further preamble he took the boy into his mouth, swallowing him down to the root. Bracing himself with his knees he used one hand to pin the boy's thigh, leaving the other free to gently massage the young man's scrotum. With a hoarse cry the youth came, flooding his mouth with rich, hot seed. Qui-Gon drank it greedily, continuing to suckle until the boy gave a whimper and he gently released the tender flesh.

Sated despite his own unsatisfied erection, he moved up to lay beside the boy, draping one arm over the youth's heaving chest; he could feel the boy's frantic heartbeat under his fingers, slowing gradually as the youth recovered from his release.

Obi-Wan turned his head towards him. //I love you//

Lifting one of the boy's hands to his lips he kissed the damp palm. //I love you too.//

Obi-Wan smiled, a look of pure satisfaction as, twisting himself, he burrowed into Qui-Gon's embrace.

Qui-Gon felt the boy start as the young man drew up against his still semi-hard flesh, but when the youth made to touch it he drew the boy's hand away.

//But...?//

//This was for you// He kissed the boy's parted lips softly. //I have all I need//

//But you didn't...//

//There will be time enough when we are home, and you are strong again.// He stroked over the boy's lips once more, this time deepening the kiss a little. //Now rest my love, so you can heal.// He tightened his arms around the youth, hooking a leg over slim thighs, pulling him close. The young man gave a contented little sigh and pressed closer still.

//Home?!//

Qui-Gon suppressed a sigh. //Yes Obi-Wan, home. A transport will arrive first thing in the morning to take us back to Coruscant.//

//But..but...Prince Menatep...the Neiderans...?//

//The Neiderans need a little more time to get used to the changes they face// As do we He nuzzled the youth's face with his beard, causing Obi-Wan to screw up his nose, rather endearingly Qui-Gon thought. //Now my Padawan please will you go to sleep// Seemingly satisfied the young man closed his eyes, and allowed himself to be lulled into sleep. Qui-Gon stayed awake a while longer, listening to the reassuring beat of his lover's heart.

Chapter XXX

A gentle, persistent knocking woke him next morning. Reluctantly disentangling himself from a deliciously drowsy Obi-Wan, he wrapped his robe around him and padded into the next room. Opening the door he was greeted by an abjectly apologetic Junubae.

"Please forgive the intrusion Sir, but I was sent to inform you that your ship has arrived." Qui-Gon thanked the Herald, noticing as the Neideran withdrew that their accompanimeny of Palace guards had been replaced with men from the Royal brigade.

Drifting back into the bedroom he was sorely tempted to climb back into bed as a sleepy, rumpled Obi-Wan sat up, fixing him with a heated gaze. However, he knew their pilot would be anxious to depart, and he did not want to cause Prince Menatep any further difficulties. Besides which he was eager to return to Coruscant, determined to gain the Council's approval for a period of rest for himself and the boy. He knew now that they needed further time alone together to adjust to the changes in their relationship.

"Come along, Obi-Wan, our ship is here." Without waiting for a reply he moved through to the bathroom. He heard the boy muttering, as a decidedly vexed Obi-Wan stumbled out of bed to join him. The young man was even more disgruntled when he was steered towards a bowl of water to bathe alone, with strict instructions 'not to get his bandage wet.'

Qui-Gon readied himself quickly, and went to fetch Obi-Wan's spare tunic from the boy's room. He returned to find the boy drying himself stiffly, trying to hide a wince as he did so. He frowned. "You are still in pain?"

"No." The denial was too quick.

"Obi-Wan-"

"It's just a little sore, I'm fine." The young man smiled and wandered over, raising up to place a quick kiss against Qui-Gon's mouth, before availing himself of the fresh tunic. Qui-Gon watched the youth closely as the boy dressed, but there was no sign of blood staining the bandage, and he could detect no real pain through their Bond link. He decided the boy spoke the truth, and was simply stiff and sore. "Sit down I'll help you with your boots." The young man made no protest, but sank into a nearby chair and allowed Qui-Gon to put on his footwear.

However, as he fastened the last buckle the boy stood up quickly, a little too quickly if the slight flinch was any indication. "I need to fetch something from my room."

"Very well but hurry." The boy nodded, picking up his robe and lightsaber from the side cabinet as he disappeared through the door.

Chapter XXXI

A short while later Qui-Gon was pacing up and down the corridor outside their quarters. //Obi-Wan//

//Coming// More time passed and still there was no sign of his absent apprentice.

//Obi-Wan, our ship is waiting.//

The //Hm...yes Master.// he received in reply was decidedly distracted.

//I do not believe our pilot will be happy if we delay here any longer, Obi-Wan.//

//...No..Master..//

//Obi-Wan Kenobi!// Just as he made to enter, the door burst open and Obi-Wan shot out, face flushed, robes askew. As he stood frowning, the youth hurriedly straightened himself. "Come along, Obi-Wan."

"Yes, 'Master'." Qui-Gon raised his eyes upwards at the young man's playfully meek tone.

Epilogue

Obi-Wan fingered the little vial he had spent an age searching for. Just when he had all but given up hope, he had discovered it tucked inside a cushion that had fallen under his bed. He smiled as he stroked a finger along its cool smooth sides.

He looked up to see Qui-Gon had walked some distance ahead, the older Jedi had now stopped, and was looking back at him with concerned frown etched upon his face. Discreetly pocketing the little bottle, he hurried to catch up with the older man; offering a quick grin as he reached him. Qui-Gon shook his head in a give me strength gesture, and together they made their way to their ship, and home.

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