Author's Webpage: http://come.to/prillalar
Disclaimer: SW belongs to George Lucas, not me. I do not
profit in any way by this story.
Notes: Thanks to Anne Higgins for the discussion post that
sparked this. And to Eris, Muse o' my heart. You were there.
Pairing: Q/O
Rating: R
Spoilers: TPM
Summary: Post-TPM. ...for love is strong as death...
When the blade passed through Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan felt the pain. When he held his dying master in his arms, Obi-Wan felt the life ebbing away. And when he lay wakeful in the dark, cold without his lover's body near, Obi-Wan felt a touch upon his mind and knew that Qui-Gon was still with him.
It was a comfort in the days that followed, Qui-Gon's presence with him, not tangible, but nearly so. As though Qui-Gon were always beside him. Something like the loss of a limb, Obi-Wan supposed, when the missing part could still be felt but not seen. But this was no hallucination. This was Qui-Gon.
When Obi-Wan faced the trials, Qui-Gon was with him, giving him strength. When Obi-Wan spoke with Yoda, Qui-Gon was there, giving him determination. When they committed the body to the flames, Obi-Wan was calm, feeling his master's presence wrapping around him like a cloak, giving him peace.
That night Qui-Gon appeared to Obi-Wan for the fist time, luminous in the night. He did not speak, but he reached out and where his flickering touch met flesh, nerve endings ignited and Obi-Wan felt a pleasure he had never known before, not even in his most passionate nights with Qui-Gon.
Months went by. Sometimes Qui-Gon would speak to him, a soft voice in his ear, murmuring words of love or wisdom. Often he would come to Obi-Wan at night, setting him on fire with ghostly caresses. And always, always, Obi-Wan felt Qui-Gon there beside him.
Always. All the time. Everywhere.
When Obi-Wan dropped the soap in the shower, he bent down to pick it up at the same time Qui-Gon levitated it up for him. Obi-Wan had a hard time trying to explain the black eye. When Obi-Wan trained Anakin, Qui-Gon made numerous suggestions as to how Obi-Wan could improve his teaching methods. Obi-Wan ground his teeth and followed them. When Obi-Wan met other Jedi in the temple halls, Qui-Gon muttered comments about them in his ear. Apparently being dead hadn't improved his disposition any.
Qui-Gon had taken to manifesting himself on Obi-Wan's couch in the evenings, wanting to chat about the day. It was getting more and more difficult to make conversation, especially since Qui-Gon had been there for the whole day anyhow. Obi-Wan found himself making up excuses not to go back to his quarters until it was time for bed.
And bed. The undead sex tricks Qui-Gon was using were great at first, but soon Obi-Wan began to crave the touch of skin on skin, a warm body, a living body that would respond to his touch for a change.
One day, he thought he'd found just that. Daria Thal, a Jedi Master just returned from assignment off-world, asked him to come for dinner in her quarters. She was an old friend of Qui-Gon's, she said, and she'd like to talk to Obi-Wan about him.
She certainly was the most attractive of all Qui-Gon's friends. And the most charming. And an excellent cook. The conversation sparkled. The wine flowed. Qui-Gon was silent, thank the living Force. Obi-Wan hoped he wasn't sulking. They progressed from dinner to dessert, from dessert to another bottle of wine, from wine to the bedroom.
Bliss. Obi-Wan revelled in the warmth, the motion, the way she came alive in his arms. The smell of her, the feel of her, the weight of her as they rolled together -- it felt so right. "Suck on her earlobe," Qui-Gon whispered. "She loves that."
Obi-Wan's head jerked up and his heart sank.
"Are you all right, Obi-Wan?" Daria asked.
"Yes, sorry." How was he supposed to perform with Qui-Gon coaching him on technique? He returned to kissing her neck, relishing the soft skin beneath his mouth. He didn't need any lectures -- this was one area where he'd never needed any instruction, even from his master, though he'd taught the old man a thing or two.
"The earlobe," Qui-Gon hissed again. "Never mind."
Obi-Wan felt a brief squeezing sensation all over, like he was suddenly becoming smaller. Before he could even panic, he was no longer in control of his actions. Something -- Qui-Gon, of course -- took over, inhabiting his body and pushing Obi-Wan back to where he could watch and hear and feel a little without actually doing anything. Obi-Wan screamed but it didn't make any difference. So he looked on and listened to Daria moan as Qui-Gon sucked on her earlobe. And...other things.
It was horribly fascinating, feeling his body act in ways that were familiar to him, but from a different perspective. And those little grunts that Qui-Gon always made...to hear them in his own voice...eeew.
It wasn't over soon enough, but it was over eventually. Qui-Gon didn't release him even then and he had to listen Daria purr how much Obi-Wan was like his master. And then to hear himself say, "He taught me everything I know." Pompous bastard!
Just outside his quarters, Obi-Wan felt himself snap back into him. He turned to take a swing at Qui-Gon before he realised that wouldn't do any good. He palmed into the room instead.
"How do you stand being so short?" Qui-Gon's voice was in the air but his form did not appear. "It must be very frustrating."
"I'll tell you what's frustrating -- being possessed by a possessive dead man while trying to make love."
"I was just trying to help." Obi-Wan didn't need to see Qui-Gon to know which sour expression he had on his ethereal face. "I know what she likes."
"Don't--" Obi-Wan tried to calm himself. Peace, tranquillity, serenity. "I realise that it's hard to be...dead, Master, but I really would prefer it if you didn't take over my body like that again. Not without prior arrangement."
The pause that followed was just a shade too long. "Of course, Obi-Wan. I completely understand."
Obi-Wan sighed, yawned, and went to bed. He pretended to sleep until morning.
Things were quiet for a few days. Qui-Gon backed off a little and Obi-Wan managed to read a whole book without being interrupted for a natter. He began to relax and even initiated a conversation when he needed advice about one of his plants that was doing poorly. Maybe they had just gone through some necessary period of adjustment.
Then one day, Obi-Wan was working with Anakin, teaching him some elementary lightsaber moves. "The grip is important, Ani, and the stance."
"Like this?" The child's brow creased with concentration.
"No, not quite." Obi-Wan shifted Anakin's fingers on the handle, then stooped to help him position his feet.
"That's wrong, Obi-Wan. The hands are too close together."
Not now, Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan thought. Just ignore him and he'll go away, right?
"Master Qui-Gon!" Anakin could see him?
"Hello, Ani." Apparently so. Qui-Gon stood near them on the mats, glowing and magisterial, hands on his hips. "I hope you're being good for Obi-Wan."
"Yes, sir, Master, sir."
"He's a good teacher, but I think his saber technique isn't quite right, so I thought I'd help out with the instruction."
Peace, tranquillity, serenity. Peace, tranquillity, serenity. Peace, tranq-- Obi-Wan lost it. How dare Qui-Gon interfere with Obi-Wan's Padawan? The boy he'd dropped Obi-Wan for, then foisted on him, remember? Obi-Wan flashed his lightsaber to life. "My saber technique?" He stepped forward. "My saber technique?" His head pounded with angry blood. "Lightsaber fight, remember? Sith lord, remember? You, dead, me, alive." He pointed his weapon at Qui-Gon. "Remember?"
Qui-Gon looked as dangerous as Obi-Wan had ever seen him. Could you fight a dead man? Could you be killed by a dead man? If it would get Qui-Gon off his back, it might be worth it. "You no longer want my help, Obi-Wan?"
"No, Qui-Gon, I do not."
They glared at each other for a minute, then Qui-Gon turned to Anakin. "How about you, Ani?"
Anakin's face lit up. "Yes, sir!"
Qui-Gon moved behind Anakin and laid spectral hands on the boy's shoulders. Obi-Wan looked at Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon looked at Obi-Wan. Then Qui-Gon shimmered and disappeared.
It was crushing to feel the presence leave him, but Obi-Wan was relieved as well. Better to be alone and get on with life. He took a deep breath and gathered his concentration.
"Ready, Ani?"
Anakin raised his saber and waited. The set of his shoulders, his grip on the handle, the look on his face -- all too familiar. This could be worrisome, Obi-Wan thought.
But still, what was the worst that could happen?