L'Histoire D'Obi (The Story of Obi)
Part 4: Homecoming
by Lilith Sedai


After he saw Obi-Wan fed and settled into his bunk, warmly clad and covered for a period of quiet rest, Qui-Gon slipped away to the external comm, contacting the Jedi Temple.

"This had better be important, Master Jinn." Mace Windu was irate, having been woken from sleep.

"It is. Obi-Wan and I are returning from Ria with the information the Senate requires. And I wish to submit myself for discipline."

His announcement gave the Councilor pause. "On what grounds?"

"Physical abuse and sexual molestation of my padawan learner." Qui-Gon's voice was chill, almost disinterested. "Have healers awaiting our arrival."

"You will be met," Mace replied simply, clicking off the communication without further notice.

Qui-Gon sat back, eyes fixed vaguely on the starfield before him.

"Master?" Obi-Wan's voice came hollowly through the corridor, and the young man appeared, clothed in sleep tunic and leggings but again swathed in Qui-Gon's borrowed cloak, bare feet nearly silent on the deckplates.

Qui-Gon rose, retreating toward his own newly-chosen quarters, carefully ensuring that he did not brush up against the younger man in the hall. A worried frown pinched between Obi-Wan's eyes, and he reached to stop his Master. Qui-Gon hesitated for an instant, indecisive, his eyes surveying the damage that he had done to Obi-Wan's mouth and neck.

His padawan's skin was hot against his arm, burning through the sleeve of his tunic, the innocent touch perverted by Qui-Gon's lustful response to it. He started to speak, thought better of it, and closed his mouth again, lids and lashes hooding his eyes, hiding from the love in the worried gaze focused on him. He brushed the concerned arm away abruptly and took his refuge in solitary meditation.


The unwieldy transport, far too large for its single pair of passengers, settled to the landing platform, its hatch opening and levering downward for disembarking. Two figures awaited its occupants, an incongruous match of tall and short, both unstirring, patient.

Then the two they awaited emerged from the ship, the disparity in height between them not so great but also apparent. Both were cloaked and hooded, stepping into the light of Coruscant. The shorter one stood with head bowed, face hidden, a pace behind the taller, darker-clad man.

Windu stepped forward and his fingertips began to move the hood to expose the hidden face of the smaller figure, but the larger man's arm intercepted his, pushing it away with more than a hint of anger. As the empty ship behind rose and pivoted away gracefully in response to the Temple Autocontroller's commands, the smallest of the four Jedi gathered on the platform stepped forward, looking up into the hood at the hidden features.

"Come, padawan Kenobi." Yoda led Obi-Wan away.

"Letting him accept the mission was a terrible mistake." Mace Windu spoke slowly, watching them go. "Wasn't it?"

Qui-Gon brushed past him in silence. There was no need to restate the obvious. He stood still on the platform, sleeves tucked into his cloak, watching with deep, terrible grief as his padawan was taken from him. Obi-Wan glanced back for a moment, uncertain, seeming to sense that something was wrong, but Yoda's gentle urgings prompted him to continue. Soon they were hidden from view.

"Come to the High Spire, Master Jinn." Mace ordered, voice impassive. "The Council awaits."

"I call a Quorum. The Jedi Council is now in session." Mace's voice silenced the assembly with perfect authority, and Qui-Gon found himself the target of eleven piercing gazes, excepting only Yoda's. As far as Qui-Gon knew, the small Master was still with Obi-Wan. Hopefully Yoda was personally seeing to it that the young man was receiving the attention he deserved from the healers.

It would go harshly for Qui-Gon without Yoda here to moderate Windu's sternness, but Qui-Gon embraced the bitterness to come, knowing he would deserve every ounce of it and more.

"Your mission was a failure?" Windu inquired.

"In part." Qui-Gon shrugged slightly. "Obi-Wan can tell you far more specific details than I. I merely negotiated trade agreements that will now, I believe, prove worthless." Qui-Gon lifted his eyes to Windu's defiantly. "Why do you skirt the real issue at hand?" Qui-Gon's voice rang with challenge. "I submit myself to discipline and waive the right of trial. I treated Obi-Wan as a full slave on Ria. I beat him, branded him, used him sexually. He was dependent on my care, and I failed to protect him."

"We will hear more details before making our decision," Windu stated with brittle calm.

The chamber door opened with a low hiss, and a ripple ran through the council. Mace subsided in his seat. Qui-Gon did not need to turn to know that Obi-Wan and Yoda had entered, only slightly late to the session. Yoda made his way to his empty chair and Obi-Wan moved to Qui-Gon's left side, as was his custom. Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed. Obi-Wan should have visited the healers, but they had not taken long enough; he must have refused treatment. Why had Yoda not insisted?

"Padawan Kenobi." Mace inclined his head coolly.

"Master Windu." Obi-Wan bowed slightly in response.

"Why are you hooded in our presence, padawan? We have heard that you were injured. Remove your cloak and tunics so that we may determine whether you need the healers."

"I must object to this treatment of my padawan," Qui-Gon intervened. "His privacy has been thoroughly violated during our mission. There is no need for further --"

"He will not stand hooded before the council," Mace interrupted with a flat coolness that belied the cut of his words. "And since you may have an interest in seeing that the extent of his injuries is hidden, your words will not be considered."

"I reported his injuries myself!" Qui-Gon heard himself rasp. "I also requested he be met by healers, not dragged immediately before the Council. My padawan requires care."

Windu ignored the Jedi Master's protests and turned his stare on Obi-Wan. "Padawan, do you require urgent medical attention?"

"No, Master Windu." Obi-Wan's voice was hushed.

"Then remove your hood."

Obi-Wan reluctantly reached up and pulled back his cowl, pulling its drape close about his neck. Dissatisfied, Windu gestured and Obi-Wan slowly pushed it back further, revealing his throat from chin to the hollow of his collarbone. Qui-Gon sighed.

Obi-Wan's glance flickered guiltily away from Qui-Gon as he heard the resigned sound. The dark slant of a partly-healed bite was clearly identifiable across his cut, swollen lips. His neck was covered with bruises, some of them beginning to yellow, some with the marks of teeth also visible. Windu rose and stepped forward, catching Obi-Wan's hand and pushing back his sleeve. The raw mark of a wrist restraint was visible, along with faint rounded bruises that Qui-Gon knew were the prints of his own fingers.

Windu drew back the left side of Obi-Wan's tunics by the breadth of a hand, revealing four scabbed scratches that extended down under the fabric, then stepped around the padawan, stripping back his clothing to expose his chest and back. The whip weals there had faded, but Mace passed his palm over Obi-Wan's skin and a soft red glow formed where recently traumatized skin was revealed by his probe. Depa Billaba drew in a sympathetic breath, the only sound that broke the silence in the council chamber.

"Padawan Kenobi." Windu's voice was a dangerous rumble. "Who inflicted these injuries on your body?"

Qui-Gon tasted blood from his own bitten tongue. Trust Mace to force Obi-Wan into an accusation. This had been inevitable following his own report, but it hurt nonetheless.

Obi-Wan answered calmly, but evasively. "They were a result of the demands of our mission and were unavoidable."

"You will answer." Windu did not relent, but Obi-Wan lifted his head and fixed his eyes on a point to the left of that probing stare, refusing to speak. "You will answer, or you will be put from the Temple," Windu promised coldly.

Obi-Wan's jaw squared and his gaze did not falter.

"Who did these things to you, Obi-Wan Kenobi?" Ki-Adi-Mundi leaned forward, more placid than Windu, in spite of the fact that he was only a Knight. "Do not fear truth, padawan."

Before matters could go further, Qui-Gon stepped between Windu and his silent padawan, jostling the dark man back a step, forcing Windu to look up to meet his eyes. "It was I. As you know already." Qui-Gon turned, setting his fingers to demonstrate their perfect alignment with the long scratches that trailed down Obi-Wan's chest, then easily laying the pads of his fingers against a set of five wide-spaced oval bruises on Obi-Wan's arm. "These you see, and those you have not." He reached for Obi-Wan's belt. The padawan's hand clenched on Qui-Gon's wrist hard, but he had not the strength to stop his Master, who pushed the belt down, finger hooking in the waistband of Obi-Wan's trousers and causing the cloth to dip below his hipbone, exposing the angry red puckers of the healing brand, a letter J.

Only Windu and Yoda showed no surprise, and a muffled roar of outrage briefly orbited the Council chamber.

"What does it stand for, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon asked, his voice soft but penetrating, silencing the Council.

Obi-Wan's face was angry, betrayed, stricken with grief and fear, and he took a long moment to try to compose himself. "Jedi," he answered, his belief that the answer was a lie jangling in the living Force so loudly that a babe swaddled in the creche might have sensed it, the answer he truly believed tingling in the air behind it like the faintest echo of a scream.

Qui-Gon reached and drew up Obi-Wan's tunics, settling them back over his shoulders and pulling them together in the front, helping his padawan put his arms back through the tangled mass of sleeves. Obi-Wan's eyes sought Qui-Gon's then, his expression mingling apology and fierce devotion, in spite of the moment of anger at his betrayal.

Qui-Gon was aware of the intensity of the spark that would leap if he let his eyes meet Obi-Wan's, and he refused to permit it to happen. That was all the Council needed, to see that Obi-Wan had been so thoroughly corrupted by this failure -- they might decree that the boy had been so damaged he could no longer continue his training, and set him out of the Order. Finishing, he stood aside, wrapping his arms about himself with a good imitation of his customary serenity.

"Padawan Kenobi." Mace persisted, a stern question, and Obi-Wan flinched at it, sensing what was to come. "Did your Master initiate sexual relations with you during the course of your mission?"

Obi-Wan's mouth worked, but no sound came out. He stared at the tile floor for a long moment, weighing his options. There was nowhere to go, no way to escape. If only Qui-Gon had talked to him instead of retreating into his quarters, shutting Obi-Wan out throughout the whole of the journey to Coruscant. Now things were shattering, an avalanche of disaster shredding Obi-Wan's life, and there was only one answer he could give -- his previous lie had only made matters worse.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat, licking dry lips. "It was necessary ... and I was willing." He raised a defiant glare to Windu. He knew the answer to that, but his response was all he could give; even though he might have chosen to accept the intimacy, Qui-Gon had been tacitly forbidden by the Code to pursue it.

The roar of discussion rang through the chamber again, only Yoda and Mace remaining silent. Qui-Gon stepped further forward, his sharp voice cutting through the commotion.

"I believe that it has been proven to your satisfaction that my padawan has been abused, and that I was the one who did it. If your prurient curiosity is satisfied, perhaps we may return to the point of this briefing, so that it may be over the sooner and he may receive the care he deserves." Chill anger built in him, invading his voice, but he could not help it. "I believe he has information that the Republic would find more useful than the location of a few bruises," Qui-Gon pointed out and fell silent, his expression steely.

"More than a few," Windu commented dryly. "Obi-Wan, were you engaged in a sexual relationship with Master Jinn prior to the incidents that occurred during the mission to Ria?"

Obi-Wan glared at Windu openly, feeling his eyes sting, but he was too proud to shed the tears that threatened. "I will not answer that question. It has no bearing on what happened --"

"No," Qui-Gon rumbled. "We were not previously intimate."

"Then ..." Mace began, but he silenced in deference to a wave from Yoda.

"Has a point, Obi-Wan does," Yoda observed, his first words since entering the room. "And Master Jinn as well. What say you of Ria's petition to join the Republic, Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan again flickered an involuntarily nervous glance at Qui-Gon, then realized the Council might misinterpret it not as his wish for reassurance, but as fear that Qui-Gon might punish him for saying the wrong thing.

"I do not believe they should be allowed to join, Master Yoda." Obi-Wan gathered his courage and his dedication to duty. "Their presentation of the religious aspects of slavery was misleading, at best. I saw persons confined and kept in tiny kennels not long enough for them to stretch out their bodies. Slaves are only fed at their Masters' whims." Obi-Wan was glad he had lost but little weight as he noticed Windu giving him a shrewd and judging look. "Beatings" -- he swallowed -- "are regular and unavoidable for slaves. Even the slightest infraction, such as looking a free person in the face, may earn a slave a flogging. I committed that infraction and the law demanded I be beaten. I was more than fortunate that Master Qui-Gon took over the task; he shielded me from a savage thrashing."

"Continue your official report, padawan," Mace interrupted silkily.

Obi-Wan did, telling about the implements of torture he had seen, sanitation practices, discipline, observed slave workload, the auction at which he had been sold, the restraints he had seen and been placed in by guards, the objectification of the slaves everywhere on Ria. Lastly, and most importantly, he told of how Corm had planned to rape him and obtain his genetic material to attempt to impregnate a slave with it and breed Force-slaves.

He finished by recounting Qal's succession to the Priesthood and his plans for reform, then bowed, concluding his report.

In spite of himself, Qui-Gon felt his heart swell with pride. Obi-Wan was right, and he had held himself together, completing his part of their mission in a way that Qui-Gon himself had not and could not. He should have suspected Corm's plot himself long before Obi-Wan had told his Master the truth of everything that had happened in his absence.

Qui-Gon could not agree with his padawan publicly without risking the undermining of Obi-Wan's authority, not while he was discredited as he was in the Council's eyes at this moment, and so he remained silent, nodding slightly only when eyes of sympathetic council members glanced in his direction. There were precious few.

"Agree with Obi-Wan I do," Yoda stated at last, and his announcement met with a murmur of approval. "Advise the Senate we will to cancel trade negotiations with Ria on the grounds of uncivilized conduct and unjustified cruelty to sentient beings. Re-evaluate them we will at a later time."

Obi-Wan bowed deeply at the honor, padawan pigtail sweeping the mosaic-tiled floor. "Thank you, Master Yoda." He raised himself with pride, glancing at Qui-Gon. "I have one thing left to report, Masters." He drew himself to his full height. "I fully renounce any claim I may stand to place against my Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, for what happened to me during our mission. I will oppose any action against him. Everything that occurred between us ..." Obi-Wan turned to Qui-Gon, his eyes bright with unshed tears, his expression filled with soft love, "was provoked by the demands of the mission and by my own behavior, and was done with my complete consent and agreement. There is no breach of faith between us. No abuse has occurred."

Qui-Gon ached to taste that look of love on his padawan's bruised lips, but he could not. Never again. He held himself perfectly still and impassive until Obi-Wan looked away, his attention drawn by Mace's voice.

"You are yet a padawan, Kenobi." Mace tapped his lip irritably with a long finger. "Consenting to a relationship with a Knight or Master is not yours to do. It is his" -- Mace fixed Qui-Gon with a forbidding stare -- "to decline to offer. Particularly under such circumstances, when your decision to consent was based on necessity, not free choice."

"Under the circumstances you describe, Master Windu," Obi-Wan objected politely but adamantly, "for either of us to decline would have caused our mission to fail, and perhaps cost one or both of us our lives. And I repeat: I was fully aware of what I was doing, and completely willing." Again the padawan bowed, stepping back from the center of the circle.

Qui-Gon sighed mentally. Obi-Wan trod fast and loose with the truth, walking a knife-edge around its borders, a disturbing tactic that he suspected helped his Master but little in Mace Windu's view. Neither of their lives had been directly threatened, though perhaps they might have been ....

"You are dismissed, padawan Kenobi," Windu intoned solemnly, and Obi-Wan cast a reluctant glance at Qui-Gon as he turned and slowly left the room.

"Qui-Gon Jinn," Mace began, but Qui-Gon interrupted him before the third word was well out of his mouth.

"I submit myself to the discipline of the Council. Obi-Wan's injuries are a result of grievous breaches in my self-control, unbecoming a Master." Qui-Gon heard his voice flowing like disinterested ice. "I request that his memories of the mission be removed so that he may continue his training without their detrimental influence. Under a new Master, of course." Qui-Gon forestalled Windu's interruption. "It is my final decision as Obi-Wan's Master that he be completely healed of all that was done to him physically, particularly the brand that was placed on his body. Pay for the bacta with the credits waiting in my account."

Qui-Gon reached beneath the fold of his cloak, palm curling around the cool hilt of his lightsaber, and unclipped it from his belt. "My Master." He bowed before Yoda, and laid the weapon in the small Jedi's lap.

Qui-Gon turned and left the room, cloak billowing in his wake.


"Kenobi loves Qui-Gon Jinn. Too much, perhaps."

"Young he is. Impressionable. Prone to worship his Master."

"He's confused, protecting Qui-Gon. He doesn't fully understand what was done to him."

"Perhaps. Hard to see. Easier it would have been if our assumptions had been correct."

"I think further investigation is in order before we act."

"Yes. Reserve our judgment we must, and watch Kenobi's actions. Let them serve to prove his heart and understanding. Show, they will, whether he was victimized or not."


After spending the time to make a few small arrangements, glad that word of his resignation had not yet filtered far down the hierarchy, Qui-Gon moved through the Temple gardens, oblivious to their peace and beauty. He drew his cowl over his head to afford him privacy. This mission had been harder for him than any other he'd ever undertaken, for it had required him to set aside the mantle of a Jedi, and then had taken away his chance to return to what he was at heart. And what was to come would be harder still, for it required him to bear the punishment for what he had done. Required him to give up his padawan, required him to remove himself from Obi-Wan's life as the price of a few hours of rough pleasure.

It was not worth it.

He glanced up, senses alert to the presences around him. Yes, there was Obi-Wan, walking obliquely into the gardens with Master Yoda at his side. Qui-Gon paused in the shadow of a tall tree, watching his pad-- young Kenobi. The correction hurt like nothing he had ever felt. Yoda's serene gaze centered on Qui-Gon for the merest instant, then returned to Obi-Wan as he listened to the boy's words, nodding, heavy-lidded eyes never revealing Qui-Gon's presence.

Obi-Wan wore his Jedi robes as though they were a part of him, and that was as it should be. The visible evidence of their mission had not yet faded from his face, though he no longer wore his hood raised and pulled forward. Had he still not visited the healers?

Worse, the young man's body beneath those masking robes ... there was yet the seduction of the pleasure slave in the movement of his hips, the awareness of his own sensuality radiating from him unconsciously. He was still the corrupt thing Qui-Gon had made him, walking as though he felt the touch of his Master's hands and eyes even in the company of Yoda -- even when he thought Qui-Gon to be far away. The way his hips moved ... it seemed he deliberately advanced his brand before him when walking, as though his body were a showcase for it, as though it were the center of him.

"Well you did, young one," Yoda's voice filtered into Qui-Gon's hearing. "A difficult mission it was. Well you both did, unprepared as you were to face what lay inside you."

"I do not believe my Master shares your opinion," Obi-Wan sighed. "The things that happened on Ria burden him unduly."

Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed, and he listened intently to the conversation. Obi-Wan still referred to Qui-Gon as his Master -- Yoda had not yet told him of Qui-Gon's resignation. There might be time yet to make his departure without the painful scene he had dreaded.

"Qui-Gon feels guilt and fear." Yoda's eyes flickered across the hidden Jedi Master serenely, and Qui-Gon knew Yoda was well aware he heard each word. "Issued orders Qui-Gon has for you to visit the healers. Choose you may to have your memory of this mission suppressed." Yoda paused to gauge the look of horror on Obi-Wan's face, not needing to see the padawan shake his head in a vehement refusal. "Strict orders Master Jinn has given for your brand to be removed, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Wish you either of these things?"

"No, Master Yoda." Obi-Wan's voice was firm and decisive. It sent a pang of despair through Qui-Gon. It was a part of what he had needed to know, what he had come here and lingered to learn, though the answer did not satisfy him.

"If you will not, then you will not." Yoda nodded, seeming to accept Obi-Wan's judgment. "Your decision it is to make now, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Not Qui-Gon Jinn's."

Qui-Gon felt anger spike through him. He resented Yoda's failure to support his recommendation, Yoda's refusal to accept that Qui-Gon knew what was best for his pada-- for Obi-Wan. But the small Master was continuing.

"Cautious you must be, young one. Little it changes that the fear you face is not your own. The path to the Dark Side it still may be," Yoda mused. His eyes slid over Qui-Gon again. "If strong your Master cannot be, strong you must be in his place."

Qui-Gon turned abruptly, melting away into the shadows. He had already heard more than he wanted.

Yoda sighed, ears drooping, and he moved to stand before Obi-Wan, moving slowly to ensure that Qui-Gon would be out of earshot before he continued. He pursed his lips, extending a clawed finger to tap the boy's hidden brand. "This your center is not," he reproved. "Need it, you do not. Ask him for it, you should not have done. Wear it you may as you choose, but ..." Yoda tilted his head back, imposing in spite of his stature, "... know you should that Qui-Gon Jinn wears this mark also, on his heart. But to him, it means not that he loves you. To him, it means his failure."

Obi-Wan slid his hands into the sleeves of his robes defensively, troubled. "I ... Master Yoda, the mark I wear is symbol, not center, and it has nothing to do with failure. My very being, my spirit, my life, the Force around me, all have been marked by my Master's influence. But my body ..."

"Bears Qui-Gon's influence as well!" Yoda contradicted him sharply, before he could continue. "Think you that your physical training has not changed it? And who has directed that training, Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan hesitated, humility returning to him. "My Master," he admitted softly.

Yoda nodded his head with satisfaction, motioning Obi-Wan to join him at a nearby bench with a convenient stone placed at its side. He settled himself slowly, and Obi-Wan took his stick, helping him prop it. Yoda looked up at Obi-Wan serenely. "So, young padawan. Branded your Master's heart with failure you have, and broken he is. Like you this?"

Obi-Wan swallowed hard, shaking his head. "No. I only wanted ...."

Yoda's impatient huff silenced him, as the small Master waved a palm, dismissing Obi-Wan's wants for the moment. "Not your fault is all of this. Qui-Gon Jinn bears blame also. Never has he opened himself to you as he should, I think." Yoda sighed, and paused, thinking, before he continued. "This I must know. Hear your Master's thoughts do you, Obi-Wan?"

"Yes, Master Yoda. Rarely, in time of great need and danger." Obi-Wan hesitated. "I thought that was typical of all Jedi."

Yoda's lips thinned. "Not typical is that for Master and padawan, and responsible it is for Qui-Gon's failure." He met Obi-Wan's startled frown with calm. "Not always does the training bond bring thought communication between Master and padawan learner. Sometimes well it is, for each, that privacy. Sometimes not. Amazing it is that your bond with Qui-Gon is so strong, when open to your mind he is not. Surprised I am to hear of the silence between you."

Sometimes it was well. Sometimes not. Yoda's meaning was clear -- it was not well this time. The misunderstanding and anguish that Qui-Gon had apparently endured could have been overcome instantly -- indeed, would never have had cause to arise -- if that simple and deep touch of minds had existed, and if Qui-Gon had understood that Obi-Wan perceived no abuse. The young Jedi licked dry lips, anguished suddenly by the revelation of unrealized potential that lay deliberately concealed in his bond with his much-loved Master. He had never suspected their bond might be deeper.

"Xanatos's fault that silence is, and Qui-Gon's." Yoda's words were heavy with regret. "The shadow of a turned padawan lies dark over a Master's soul." The sleepy eyes studied Obi-Wan. "Hard to trust it becomes. Hard to love, both self and others. Thought I did that Qui-Gon had overcome this weakness."

Obi-Wan bit his lip, struggling suddenly against tears. Yoda had laid his needs and Qui-Gon's inability to meet them bare with a few simple words.

Yoda waited for him to regain his composure, hands folded placidly in his lap.

"Mean that Qui-Gon loves you, a scar does not, and lust does not." Yoda paused again, eyes narrowing slightly. "Listen you must, Obi-Wan Kenobi. To words, to actions, to signs unspoken. Listen not to need and fear, for blind you they can. The quiet of the Force will tell you what you must know and what you must do." Yoda reached for his stick and levered himself up. "Sometimes easier it is to be a slave than to be a Master," Yoda observed. He hobbled away, leaving Obi-Wan on the bench in the stillness of gathering twilight, pondering those unexpected words.


Obi-Wan spent the next few hours meditating on what Master Yoda had told him, painfully working through the tangled mass of his emotions, finally deciding on the course of action that seemed best to him. Drawing up the cowl of his hood, he made a brief stop at the healers' chambers for treatment of his bruises before proceeding to the living quarters he shared with Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan knew the moment his palm keyed the door that his Master had gone.

The young Jedi raced through the suite of rooms, hoping against hope that he was wrong, but he was not. It was not the neatly made bed in the large back room or the diminishment in the number of leisure cloaks and tunics that usually hung unused in his Master's closet, or even the absence of several small but cherished personal mementos -- including one of Obi-Wan's own.

The young man paused, breathing hard, his fingertips laid in the empty space that had held his favorite holo of himself and Qui-Gon together -- the only one where they were touching. It had happened on his seventeenth naming day, which had coincided with a ritual of festivities and competition in the padawan gardens. Obi-Wan had won nearly every competition that day, and Bant had captured the several-second holo for him just after he had won the Rite of Wisdom by providing Yoda with the best answer for a difficult koan.

In a rare moment of emotional expressiveness, Qui-Gon had moved behind Obi-Wan and embraced him and hugged him tightly, smiling down at his padawan with pride. Obi-Wan had gazed up and over his shoulder at his Master joyfully, a smile of pure happiness and wonder dawning on his face, and their eyes had locked together for a long moment of shared happiness, their faces so close they might easily have kissed. For a moment Obi-Wan had almost thought Qui-Gon might actually kiss him and he was not at all sure the idea had not also occurred to his Master. Certainly it showed in both their expressions, a moment of rare love communicated between them.

But not even the absence of that holo was the conclusive proof that his Master had permanently withdrawn himself. Obi-Wan had known Qui-Gon was gone as soon as he realized that the aura of his Master's life was gone from this place. Such a thing could only be done deliberately, and Obi-Wan knew it had been removed by the only one who could do so as swiftly as thought and as irrevocably as death: Qui-Gon himself.

One of Obi-Wan's favorite memories, taken from him as though he no longer deserved to have it, and his Master, gone. He strangled the miserable sob in his throat. He would have given a thousand such memories to keep Qui-Gon at his side. He should have accepted the mind purge as Qui-Gon had requested. Would his Master have stayed with him then?

Such speculation changed nothing. While he had spoken with Yoda, while he had pondered the teachings and the follies of the mission past, his Master had withdrawn.

Obi-Wan was white-faced, stunned into immobility. For the first time in their many years of service together, Qui-Gon had lied to him. Obi-Wan's fist clenched as he remembered Qui-Gon's promise, made on the morning of the day they arrived at Ria. He could still hear Qui-Gon's quiet, soothing voice, saying 'I will protect you, my padawan. Now, and always.' He had taken it to mean that Qui-Gon would always be there for him, that when the mission was over they would return to being the Jedi they were. He had believed that Qui-Gon could be relied on to accept and integrate the events of the mission, to accompany Obi-Wan on the path of healing and adapting, to resume and strengthen their relationship as Jedi.

That belief was what had given him the strength to endure, the confidence to remain himself even in slavery ... and now, the promise was taken from him and broken. His anguish threatened to choke him, but he could not give in to it. There is no passion. There is serenity.

Instead of meaning his words wholly, it seemed Qui-Gon had twisted them to suit himself. He'd meant that when they returned, he would protect his padawan by removing his influence from Obi-Wan's life. Why? Because he'd had sex with Obi-Wan, perhaps even without loving him? Surely that could not be so, but Yoda had told him that Qui-Gon was weak and he must be strong in his Master's stead. The small Master had revealed that Qui-Gon felt guilt and fear, and that Obi-Wan's brand was a scar of failure on his heart, that Qui-Gon's spirit was broken. But then ... if Obi-Wan's pain hurt Qui-Gon so badly, then Qui-Gon must love him, at least as a student.

Which Obi-Wan had known from the first and had refused to accept as sufficient.

The forsaken padawan's mind raced. Qui-Gon could have felt that he had failed Obi-Wan in a variety of ways. He knew his Master's logic; Qui-Gon no doubt justified his actions with the thought Obi-Wan would be harmed more by his presence than by his absence. But Obi-Wan knew better. Qui-Gon had failed only in giving in to fear and in abandoning him now, instead of working with him to overcome what had happened between them, instead of letting them each recognize their own mistakes and work together to overcome them.

Guilt savaged him. He had failed Qui-Gon far worse than his Master had failed him. Obi-Wan had failed to love unconditionally, and his neediness had driven his Master away. He had thought only of his own wants and allowed Qui-Gon to be destroyed by them. He had not taken the full picture into account. In providing for himself and providing for their mission, he had lost Qui-Gon ....

His fists clenched with furious misery. He would make amends. He would. There was no time to wallow in misery and placing blame. Reminiscence was pointless; Obi-Wan must move to influence the future.

Yoda had intimated that Qui-Gon was menaced by the Dark Side, and he was right. Obi-Wan knew what he must do.

He scrabbled for his comlink, accessing Yoda's private channel. "Master Yoda, my Master has left the temple. I must -- "

"Resigned from the Jedi has Qui-Gon Jinn," Yoda's unsurprised voice greeted him immediately. "In your bags you will find his lightsaber. Waste time you do, padawan. Waste no more. Granted is your travel pass, and the finances that you will need for this mission."

A mission. Obi-Wan suppressed the flare of pride and amusement that flickered in him at the word. He could sense Yoda's approval of his decision to act, and it calmed him, centering him. "I will return with him," he promised, suddenly certain of the truth of it. Somehow, he would do this thing.

"See that you do." Yoda terminated the communication calmly.

It only remained to determine where Qui-Gon might go. Obi-Wan sprinted for his computer terminal to requisition transport departure manifestos for the past six hours.


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