Archive: Yes
Archive Date: February 14, 2001
Author's Webpage: https://www.squidge.org/~pumpkin/
Disclaimer: Lucasfilm, Lucasfilm, Lucasfilm.
Feedback: is always appreciated
Pairing: Q/O
Rating: G - NC17
Summary: The date listed is the date the 'snapshot' was
written/posted. Each piece is a segment within the same
universe, but they are not in any sort of order. Each piece
stands alone. The snapshots will run the gamut from G to
NC17. Some may be several pages long, some only a couple of
paragraphs; some will contain smut, many will not; they will
be different styles with different voices.
November 02, 2000
On some worlds the sunrise explodes across the sky, announcing the day's arrival with a splash. On others, it creeps along on quiet feet, shyly nudging the night away. Sometimes the sunrise is nothing more than a glow on the horizon and on one world it was impossible to tell when the sun rose from when it set.
The way the sun rises often defines a people. Volatile, gentle, nocturnal, diurnal, noisy, quiet, honourable or corrupt. My master has taught me to read a people by their environment and use it as a map, as one of the touchstones to who they are.
I wonder what sunrise would define my master and myself. There is no world that we call home, no star that consistently lights our mornings. Perhaps that is our touchstone.
November 04, 2000
Obi-Wan steps from the shower and dries himself quickly, but carefully. He has left his clean clothes, neatly piled, on the bench next to the shower and in moments he is dressed; the soft, clean material settled familiarly against his skin.
Without looking he binds the hair behind his right ear, end over end over end. It is silky in his hands, soft and, once braided, nothing more than a thin rope of hair that reaches nearly to his navel.
Finally, he looks up at his reflection. He runs his hand along the braid and awaits his master's approval. Today is a day of some significance and he wants to look his best.
He looks down into his hand at the two bands he choose not to weave into his braid this time. One he will give to Anakin, the other he will slip into his master's hand before the pyre is lit.
Closing his hand into a fist around the flimsy bits of ribbon, he is ready.
November 06, 2000
"What's that you're humming, Padawan?"
"I'm sorry, Master, I'll stop."
"No, no, I just want to know what the tune is."
"Um...well, I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know?"
"I wasn't paying attention, I was just...humming."
"I see. I don't suppose you could hum it again, could you? And pay attention this time."
"Why?"
"Because now the tune is stuck in my head and I know I know it, but I can't quite put my finger on it."
[soft humming]
"No, no. That's different."
"Are you sure, Master?"
"Quite. Try again."
[more humming]
"That isn't it either."
"Shall I try again?"
"Never mind, Padawan, I've got the second one stuck in my head now."
"I'm very sorry, Master."
"No more than I. If you need me I'll be in the aviary, listening to the songbirds. At least I know Master Etiel will be able to accurately reproduce their calls."
November 07, 2000
Geran and Reeft fell into step on either side of Obi-Wan as he made his way toward the initiate dorms.
"Are you okay?" asked Geran as his hand came up to wrap around Obi-Wan's arms.
"I'm fine, why?"
"You were called to see Master Yoda," said Reeft, eyes wide.
"So?"
"You aren't in trouble?" asked Geran.
"No," laughed Obi-Wan, "he just wanted to talk." He made a face. "He did serve me tea though."
Geran made gagging noises, but on Obi-Wan's other side Reeft was looking thoughtful.
"Did he serve anything with the tea?"
"Philosophy, advice, lessons..."
"Oh." Reeft sounded disappointed.
"And sweet breads," added Obi-Wan, watching his friend's face.
"Well then," said Reeft, looking pleased for Obi-Wan, "it was a good visit."
"He even let me bring some back with me," said Obi-Wan as he pulled two of the small breads from a pocket. He held them out to his friends and the pleasure on Reeft's face doubled.
"A very good visit," said the perpetually hungry initiate before devouring the treat.
November 08, 2000
My master tastes like wine and sunshine and I dip to taste him again. His lips are soft and warm and his breath flows into my body. I take him in and am taken into him in return. I become lost in the gentle pleasure of his lips on mine, of his tongue touching my own.
Such a simple thing to turn me inside out, twist me front to back.
Just a kiss.
November 09, 2000
I do a regular run between Alderaan and Coruscant: goods, legal and not and the occasional passengers, also legal and not. So it's my business to know what's happening on my ship. You know how it goes, it's not like I spy on my passengers, but if I didn't at least check 'em out, well I'd be deserving the hit when it came.
I never would have looked if I'd known, I'm not that type. And it's not like I had the camera on them for long - as soon as I realised I turned it off. There wasn't even any audio.
So how come the image is burned into my eyes? I can recall every detail like it's still in front of me. Limbs bare, pale and tangled. Skin sheened with seat. The audio wasn't on, but I swear by Lady Fantusia I could hear the cries that came from their open mouths.
I always thought the Jedi didn't go for that kind of thing; sex seems too...messy for them. But maybe they weren't Jedi after all, maybe that was just a clever disguise to put me at my ease, to make me trust them. I'll have to keep an eye on 'em. For my own safety, you understand.
November 10, 2000
"Wow!" Obi-Wan's hushed exclamation was picked up by the wind and thrown across the hillside. "It's so green, I don't think I've ever seen anything so green."
Standing next to him, Master Yoda chuckled.
Behind them came the sounds of the other initiates and masters disembarking. Spread before them were verdant hills and tree-lined valleys, all in a dozen shades of green.
"Alive it is," said the ancient master.
Obi-Wan nodded. "I can feel it - it's like the planet is talking to me."
"This," said Master Yoda, pointing with his stick to the landscape in front of them, "is the Living Force. Nowhere can you understand it better than standing on real dirt." He stamped one foot and Obi-Wan copied the gesture, feeling the solid ground beneath him, solid yet teeming with life.
Living things grew from the soil - grass and flowers and trees. Insects moved through its dark grains; water and nutrients fed multitudes of plant and animal life.
Suddenly the Force seemed a little bit more friendly and a little more within his grasp. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and reached out to it, touching it with an ease that had always escaped him.
Joy filled him, suddenly all the lessons and meditations, all the things his teachers had tried to impress upon him made sense as it all came together for him for the first time. He'd touched the Force before of course, used and manipulated it, but never before had it sung to him so completely.
Master Yoda smiled and, turning, motioned for another initiate to join them on the hillside.
November 11, 2000
The night sits heavily on his shoulders. He stares out at the blurred stars and the blackness beyond them, seeing only red.
Qui-Gon knows that he is only one man, that he cannot be expected to always have the answer, to save the day, but this doesn't make him feel any better. He failed and the slaughter resumed. The Jedi had been allowed to make their escape, but the untold millions on Poraxl'tin were not so lucky.
Hands settle on his shoulders and squeeze lightly before moving forward and folding across his chest. Obi-Wan settles against his back, head resting on Qui-Gon's shoulder. Obi-Wan's body is warm and heavy, solid, and Qui-Gon shifts, resting back against him.
"It's not your fault." The familiar, careful tones are laced with sadness and conviction.
"No?"
"No."
"Someone is to blame."
"The Poraxli are to blame. They made the choice to continue to fight rather than back down from their demands. It was their choice not to extend the cease fire."
"But I had their fates in my hands. If I could have come up with a solution there would be peace among them now."
"Then at the very least you share the blame with me." Qui-Gon stiffens and Obi-Wan continues, voice fierce. "It was my responsibility to help you, Master and I failed you. The blame is mine to share."
A soft kiss warms his ear, another the skin of his neck. Qui-Gon closes his eyes and lets Obi-Wan soothe him.
"I love you," the words whisper across his consciousness and with them he relaxes. His burdens are put down. They will still be there in the morning, though he knows he will not carry the weight alone.
November 12, 2000
Sometimes we come together in a desperate, frantic coupling, bodies urgent. Sometimes we explore each other all night long, grounding ourselves in each other, in the Force.
Tonight I just need to touch him, to rub my restless body against his heat until my released washes over me in the gentle flood of my orgasm. And then I will sleep, body warm, sated and, finally, tired.
Just before I drift off he'll touch my braid and smooth it over my shoulder and down my chest.
"Love you," he'll murmur, voice deep and rumbling. And though I'll be too far into slumber to respond, he'll know I feel the same.
November 13, 2000
I make my final rounds, saving the bassinette by the far wall for last. Our newest addition to the temple and at the moment the youngest member of the Order at only six months.
He lies on his side, chubby little fists tucked under a sweetly dimpled chin. His hair is baby-fine and still blond, but his eyebrows have already been tinged with reddish brown. He is so peacefully asleep and I feel calm steal over me while watching him.
I gather this moment and this feeling to myself, capturing it in my memory. I have a hunch I'll need to revisit it often once he is awake.
November 14, 2000
The streets are littered with debris, random bits of garbage and brick and rock and wood, turning them into an obstacle course. There is screaming and shouting, people needing his help on every side. Smoke smothers everything, making it hard to breathe, stinging his eyes and giving buildings and vehicles a nether worldly, lurking quality.
He has been trained for this; he has performed well in numerous simulations at the temple. It is different somehow, knowing it is real. People are dying, the smoke is from actual fires that burn hungrily. His skills are needed; he is needed.
He reaches out for the Force, his ally and friend of old, but panic brushes at him like the black wings of a sutabird flying too close. It becomes harder to breathe, he's gasping, choking and the screams become louder, the smoke thicker. There is a loud explosion, perhaps a blaster or a mine, close by, deafening him temporarily.
He knew it would be like this, but he didn't know and now it is too late and-
The Force finds him; a gentle calming embrace that pushes away the noise and the smoke and the panic. Qui-Gon. His master's strength floods through him.
A large hand, warm and steady, lies solidly against his back. He lets it support him for a moment, until he can get his bearings and his own connection to the Force returns.
"Obi-Wan?"
"I'm fine now, thank you, Master." He looks up in time to see Qui-Gon smile down at him, the expression on his master's face a physical signpost for the emotions wrapping his mind.
Girded, he moves confidently through the streets, rendering aid where he can.
November 16, 2000
Smooth skin beneath my callused fingers; softer here between his thighs, and softest here at his groin - shaft, sac and the smooth path of flesh that leads to his passage.
Tiny hairs invisible to all but touch along the planes of his back; coarser here along the line between his buttocks, and coarsest here, nesting his genitals.
Sighs and moans break the silence; louder here as I lick his shaft, and loudest here as my tongue breaches his opening.
This man, who I can touch and feel and lick and make cry out, who is flesh and blood and bone beneath me, beside me, above me, who is joy and peace and happiness inside me, this man is my friend, my padawan, my companion, my lover, my heart, my soul, my Obi-Wan.
November 17, 2000
I'm having trouble meditating. I reach for calm and peace, but it eludes me. Obi-Wan is out there, in our common room, the kitchen, his own room, mapping them. Moving slowly through the rooms, counting under his breath as he goes, occasionally slamming knees or toes or nose into walls and furniture.
I could not watch and so I fled into the dubious sanctuary of my own room. Still, I can hear him walking around, indeed I count with him, relearning the world.
How could I have let this happen to my padawan?
November 19, 2000
Obi-Wan looked suspiciously from the bowl in front of him to Master Yoda, who was regarding him solemnly. Picking up a spoon he poked cautiously at the bright pink lump that sat, unceremoniously, in the middle of the bowl. Bending his head, he tried sniffing it.
"What is it?" he finally asked.
"If I tell you will you eat it?"
Obi-Wan's face grew even more suspicious. "I'll taste it," he countered.
"Hrm. Deal."
"So what is it?
"Frozen bantha milk with crushed rassy berries."
Obi-Wan sighed heavily, wishing he'd tasted it before Master Yoda had told him what it was, but a deal was a deal. Slipping a tiny amount of the frozen milk onto his spoon, he screwed up his face and put it in his mouth. He broke into a delighted grin as the flavour burst across his tongue; cold and sweet, it tasted wonderful.
Frozen bantha milk. When was he going to stop falling for Master Yoda's jokes he wondered as he quickly ate the entire dessert.
"Enjoyed it, yes?"
"Yes, Master Yoda," replied Obi-Wan as he ran his finger along the bowl to pick up the last few drops. "Are you going to tell me what it really was?
Master Yoda cackled. "Told you I did. Frozen bantha milk with rassy berries. So quick to judge you young ones are. Name. Appearance. These are not what a thing is."
"Master Yoda?"
"Yes, Initiate?"
"Is there anything you don't make into a lesson?"
November 20, 2000
Thinking of Obi-Wan always makes me hard.
It seems crude to put it that way, my love for him stripped down to its physical element. But the statement is accurate. What it is not is complete.
Thinking of Obi-Wan makes me catch my breath, as if I can think better without the labour of filling my lungs. My heart speeds; even just thinking of him I am more alive. A feeling goes through me, from my head down to my toes. I would call it joy, except that is not quite right. Nor is love, nor bliss. It is all three at once and yet still not quite. This, too, is all true but not complete.
Thinking of Obi-Wan makes me hard.
November 21, 2000
"Master?"
"Hm?"
"Are you finished writing your report?"
"Yes, Padawan."
"Have you sent it to the Council?"
"Yes, Padawan."
"So all your duties are done?"
"Indeed."
"My duties for the evening are also completed."
"Very good, Padawan."
[Silence for a time, broken only by the sound of pages turning.]
"Master?"
"Hm?"
"What are you reading?"
"A treatise by Iyak'tsi, one of our founders."
"Is it interesting?"
"Indeed, quite."
[More silence, again broken only by turning pages.]
"Master?"
"Hm?"
"Will you be reading much longer?"
"For a while."
"Very well, Master."
[Even more silence, broken this time by the occasional sigh.]
"Padawan?"
"Yes, Master?"
"Was there anything you wanted?"
"Well... No, I don't want to interrupt your reading, Master."
"And if I were to say I had finished reading for the evening?"
"Well, if there wasn't anything else you needed to do..."
"Yes, Padawan?"
"I was hoping we could make love until dawn."
[Silence reigns one more, broken by the sound of clothing dropping to the floor and skin sliding over skin.]
November 22, 2000
"The end."
"Aw!" Fourteen voices rang out together.
Obi-Wan remained kind but firm. "I'm sorry, but it's bedtime now."
The crèche master moved forward, relieving Obi-Wan of his charges, each one climbing into his lap for a hug first.
"Come back anytime," said Master v'Nu.
"Yes! Soon!" chorused the children.
Obi-Wan smiled as he left the initiates wing, meeting his master along the hallway.
"Well done, Padawan," said Qui-Gon, arm circling Obi-Wan's shoulders.
"How much longer are you going to punish me?" asked Obi-Wan, trying not to whine, but his cheeks hurt from pretending to smile and his head hurt from all the noise the children had been making and, frankly, his patience and serenity were taxed beyond measure.
"Every padawan goes through a rotation with the initiates, Obi-Wan. You haven't been singled out, nor is this a punishment."
"Perhaps, Master, but some get to teach the saber to the older initiates, or protocol, or languages. I got stuck with the youngest children and for the hour between last meal and bedtime."
"As far as I know that was all that was currently available. Have you spoken to Master Vistl?"
"Yes, and that is all that is available," said Obi-Wan, pouting now.
"Well then, it must be the will of the Force, Padawan."
"It's the will of the Force to drive me crazy?"
"No," laughed Qui-Gon, "but I wouldn't be surprised if it was the will of the Force to teach you patience with others."
November 23, 2000
"Where have you been?" asked Qui-Gon as his new padawan returned to their quarters.
"Having tea with your master."
"I didn't think you liked tea."
"I don't," replied Obi-Wan as he joined his master, folding himself onto his knees in front of the low table. "He seems to believe that if he feeds me enough I'll grow to like it."
"And what do you believe, Obi-Wan?"
"That one of these days I'm either going to float away or drown in it."
November 24, 2000
There's a feeling in the pit of my stomach, a hollow dread that grows as events spiral ever faster out of my control, my sphere of influence becoming smaller with every passing moment. I am failing my Queen and my people. First led like a dog by the Trade Federations mechanical slaves and now handing her over to the Supreme Chancellor's ambassadors.
I have no illusions - the decision is hers alone to make, but if I had been an abler governor it is my council she would have sought and accepted.
At least these Jedi will be able to defend her, though I would be happier if they were more than two. I only hope they can do as well against the larger contingents. I worry that their agenda will ultimately prove to be more important to them than Her Majesty's; while they are respectful, their arrogance is plain to see.
I watch her follow in their wake with some misgiving, but what can I do? My failure continues to grow.
November 29, 2000
Leaning up, Obi-Wan met Qui-Gon's lips in a long, warm kiss. His hands slipped eagerly to his master's belt, fumbling with the clasp. It dropped to the floor with a thud, Obi-Wan's own soon following. He could feel the effects immediately; with the gravity simulators on their belts no longer holding them down it felt like the air was pulling at their bodies.
Obi-Wan finally gave in to the impulse that had plagued him ever since they had arrived on the extremely low gravity planet of Salori. He pushed, just a little, with the balls of his feet and, wrapped together in their embrace, he and Qui-Gon slowly floated from the ground. Leaning back, Obi-Wan used just a touch of the Force to give them some momentum and laughed as they slowly spun head over heels, the ease of their movement making it seem as though the room was spinning around them rather than they within it.
Clinging to his master, Obi-Wan felt dizzy and giddy and out of control and felt incredible. It made him hard. Wrapping his legs around Qui-Gon's waist, he rubbed himself against his master, his delighted laughter swallowed by the warm mouth covering his own.
Another touch of the Force sent them rolling in the opposite direction.
"I'm too old for this," Qui-Gon murmured against Obi-Wan's lips.
"Yes, Master," replied Obi-Wan demurely, pressing against his master's hardness, and Qui-Gon chuckled. Moving a hand between their bodies, Obi-Wan freed their erections.
Qui-Gon's chuckle became a gasp, the warm air brushing against Obi-Wan's cheek as his hand closed over his master's erection. Only minute shifting was required and then they were tumbling in the air, each with a hand wrapped around their shafts. Qui-Gon's large hand circled them both, sliding from the base of their erections up and then back down. Obi-Wan's hand circled the top of their shafts, moving in tandem with Qui-Gon's, matching his master's rhythm in this as he did in all things.
Obi-Wan could feel the pleasure roll through his body and soon he felt like he was tumbling on the inside, end over end. He closed his eyes and clung to his master, unsure and uncaring which way was up and which down.
He came with a cry, Qui-Gon's lips covering his and then Qui-Gon also came.
"Love you," he murmured against his master's neck.
"And I, you, Obi-Wan."
They continued to hold each other as they drifted gently through the air.