Archive: Yes Master_Apprentice, OKEB, OJEB and SWAL if they would like it (anyone else just ask :-)
Category: AU, angst (no deaths), h/c, first time
Disclaimer: Main characters and SW universe belong to Mr Lucas...I'm just playing with them
Feedback: Yes please!....but this is my first ever piece of fanfic so please be gentle.
Notes: Much thanks and appreciation to my beta reader Kat...Without her this would still be one long paragraph sitting on my hard drive *g*
Pairing: Q/O
Rating: NC-17
Series: First in an unnamed series
Spoilers: Probably some as it's set immediately after TPM; but since I live in the U.K. I haven't actually seen the film yet :-(
Summary: Qui-Gon discovers just how badly he has hurt Obi-Wan, and sets about restoring their Master/Padawan relationship only to find that it may not be enough.

Chapter I

Consciousness returned slowly to Qui-Gon. He still felt the phantom pain of the lightsaber thrust in his chest, though the healing trance had long since removed all physical trace of the injury. Reaching out to feel the familiar embrace of the force he sensed the calming tendrils of another presence; though not the one he had expected.

"Where is Master Yoda?"

"He is with young Kenobi."

Qui-Gon's eyes snapped open at once as he struggled to rise. "Obi- Wan! Why? Is he hurt?" A gentle hand restrained him as Master Windu reached forward from the shadows.

"Rest easy Qui-Gon Jinn, your Padawan is unharmed."

"Then why...?"

"He is much distressed, which is why Master Yoda counsels him."

"Distressed .. .?" Qui-Gon face, usually so composed, openly telegraphed his confusion.

Windu sighed. "He thought you were dead, he believed he had lost his master, he could not clearly feel the force. Anger and hate blinded him. He killed in anger, all this disturbs him."

Windu paused and sat back. "He believes he has failed you, this too distresses him."

"Failed me?!" Qui-Gon's voice rose in disbelief. "How can he believe such a thing?"

There was a moments silence before Windu spoke. "

"He believes it because he feels that for you to so willingly set him aside to take on another he must have displeased you in some way. He feels that he has not lived up to your teachings, that he is unworthy of your instruction. You have expressed your dissatisfaction with him in the past." It was phrased more as a statement than a question; one which Qui-Gon vehemently denied.

"No!" He held out for a moment under Windu's calm gaze, then let out a shuddering breath. "Perhaps sometimes I have counseled for a greater tolerance for the weaknesses of others. Obi-Wan is not without understanding, but he can judge others a little too harshly," he conceded.

"None harsher than himself perhaps," Windu suggested gently.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes once more, his face taught with anguish.

Opening them he struggled again to rise from his pallet, and again Master Windu restrained him.

"I must go to him," Qui-Gon protested.

"No." Mace Windu softened the abruptness of his words with a gentle squeeze of Qui-Gon's arm. "He is still with Master Yoda; later when he is more composed, and you are rested. You were close to death my friend, we all felt it."

Qui-Gon lay back with a sigh of understanding.

"Including Obi-Wan."

"The force is strong in him."

"Yes."

"He will make a fine Jedi," Windu paused, "When he is ready."

Qui-Gon's face contorted further in his grief. He looked up at Windu, his eyes pleaded for understanding.

"I thought he was!"

"I know my friend." Windu smiled kindly. "You have trained him well, but still he has much to learn; he is your Padawan and needs your wise counsel."

Qui-Gon grimaced. "I have failed my Padawan."

"No," Windu admonished gently.

"I cannot take on Anakin, Obi-Wan still needs me."

"Yes."

"But the boy..."

"Will be trained by another."

Qui-Gon frowned, "The council decreed him too old to train."

"He is, but he is also too strong in the force to go untutored, dangerous that would be."

"You will train him?" Windu shook his head.

"No."

"Then who...?"

"Master Yoda will take on the boy."

Qui-Gon thought for a moment and then nodded. "He saw this."

"Perhaps." Windu stood. "The future is not always clear."

"Mine is with Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon spoke with finality. Windu nodded and left, but not before he heard the words, softly spoken, "If he will still have me."

Chapter II

It was light when Qui-Gon awoke again and this time he was alone. Instinctively he reached out with the force along the bond he shared with his Padawan, and found Obi-Wan's presence strangely muted. Concerned, he washed and dressed as quickly as his stiff and still exhausted body would allow, and left to find his student.

He had gone but a little way along the passage when he encountered Master Yoda, who moved forward to block his path.

"Talk we must Qui-Gon Jinn." Qui-Gon's face must have shown his impatience. "The boy rests, come, be here when you return he will."

Reluctantly Qui-Gon followed the diminutive Jedi. They walked in silence until they reached Master Yoda's room where he was ushered inside.

"Sit, sit,"Yoda waved Qui-Gon towards a cushioned seat. The tall Jedi took it,but sat tense and anxious. Yoda frowned and Qui-Gon felt some of the tension dissipate as the Master Jedi exercised his power to calm him. Eventually Qui-Gon was unable to maintain his silence.

"Obi-Wan...?"

"Is troubled," Yoda interjected, "Yes much troubled is he, full of fear, no good will that do." He shook his head sadly and with some fussing and shuffling took a seat beside Qui-Gon.

"I did not mean to hurt him."

"But hurt him you did, yes." At Qui-Gon's stricken look Yoda's wizened face softened slightly and Qui-Gon once again felt the soothing balm of the force reach out to him.

"No you did not, mistake you made," the old Jedi shook his head admonishing gently, "Fix it you must or suffer you both will."

Qui-Gon nodded mutely, then turned a pain filled gaze to his old teacher. "Help me Master, I know not how to proceed."

"Use the force, meditate, dwell on it, let it fill you and surround you. Seek out your relationship with your Padawan, let the force define and shape it." Then he frowned, his tone lowered in warning. "Or lose him you will."

Qui-Gon glanced up sharply, shocked. Lose Obi-Wan?. Ice cold fear filled him. He was barely aware when Yoda stood and moved forwards until a small gnarled hand brushed his knee. "Go Master Qui-Gon Jinn, be with your Padawan, heal together."

Qui-Gon nodded and, still shaken by Yoda's words, he allowed himself to be led back to the chamber where his Padawan rested. He hesitated at the door, until with an impatient snort, Yoda nudged him inside.

The outer room was cool and dark, shaded from the early morning light by heavy blinds. Qui-Gon walked towards the bedchamber, but found himself unaccountably reluctant to approach his young charge. He paused instead at the doorway and glanced inside. Obi-Wan lay on his back, hands clutched knuckle-white, his face troubled even in Yoda's force-induced sleep. Qui-Gon stepped forward and then stopped, he realized he was afraid to face his student, afraid of the pain and accusation he felt he would find in that familiar blue- green gaze.

Feeling troubled, he turned back into the main chamber to meditate as Yoda had instructed. Some hours later his trance-state was disturbed; Qui-Gon could feel Obi-Wan's distress even before he entered the bedchamber and heard the soft whimpers.

He moved quickly to his students side, just as Obi-Wan sat up with a heart-wrenching cry,

"Master!"

Qui-Gon immediately came forward to sit upon the bed, catching hold of the young man's shoulders as he sought to reassure him. "Rest easy Obi-Wan, I am here."

"Master," the word ended on a muffled sob as Obi-Wan flung himself into his Master's ready embrace. Qui-gon closed his arms around his Padawan, tightening his embrace as he felt the tremors that shook the slender form. Raising one hand he stroked the youth's soft spiky hair. "Hush Obi-wan, it is alright I am here."

//I dreamt you were dead master!// The words were accompanied by such a rush of pain that Qui-Gon instinctively drew back to calm himself. However, realizing at once that Obi-Wan would sense his withdrawal, he lowered his mental shields and allowed his love for the young man to flow back through the mental link.

//See Obi-wan I am here.//

//I could not feel you master, I could not feel the force!// The link closed off as Obi-Wan began to sob with renewed vigor.

When after several moments he showed no sign of easing in his anguish, Qui-Gon began to grow anxious and wondered if he should summon master Yoda to help calm the distraught young man. He decided to try once more to reach him through their mental link. //I am still here , I will always be with you my Padawan. You will not lose me Obi-wan.//

//I killed in anger master, I felt nothing but hate and rage!// Qui-Gon felt the threefold fear behind those words. Fear of being cast aside in favor of another, fear of losing his master to death, and fear of losing connection with the force. Or worse, succumbing to the dark side.

"Obi-Wan," he spoke aloud purposely, at the same time drawing back a little so he could lift his Padawan's tear streaked face up to his own. The misery in those familiar blue green eyes constricted his throat, and he swallowed convulsively before continuing. "Obi-Wan you are my Padawan, I want no other as my apprentice. I felt you were ready to face the trials, I was wrong...no Obi-Wan listen to me." He saw the pain in the youth's eyes deepen and sighed, cursing his blunder. "My Padawan you did nothing wrong, it is I who failed you. So blinded was I by my own rigid belief that the boy might be the one of prophecy, that I shut myself off to my responsibilities. You are strong in the force, you have learned much, you will one day be a great Jedi, but you still have much to learn, and I still have much to teach you," he smiled and stroked away the tears from his beloved Padawan's cheeks. "This you have taught me," his tone was gently teasing. "Perhaps we can learn together."

"The boy..." Obi-Wan's voice was still husky with tears.

"Will be taught by Master Yoda."

Obi-Wan frowned. Qui-Gon stroked across the furrow with his thumb smoothing out the lines, then he placed a gentle kiss there.

"That is as it should be, you are my Padawan I neither want nor need any other." He felt his chest tighten at the disbelief in Obi-Wan's hurt-filled gaze.

"Obi-Wan I am a Jedi Knight, and your Master. I am also a man, and as a man I make mistakes. Pride and arrogance led me to demand the boy be taught at all costs. Master Yoda taught me that I was wrong. I have learnt from him, even a Master may learn sometimes." He pulled Obi-Wan close to him again //I am here for you Obi-Wan, I will always be here for you, so will the force be, you can shut us out but we will never go away.// Obi-Wan nestled in his Master's arms as he had done as a child. He still felt afraid and unsure, but his Master's presence comforted him now as it had then. His anchor in the force it embraced them both. He wanted to believe his Master's words so badly.

"Am I a burden to you master?"

The words were spoken so softly Qui-gon had to strain to hear them. When he did he gave an exclamation and after a reassuring squeeze, once more drew back so he could look into Obi-Wan's red-rimmed eyes.

"A burden?! No Padawan is a burden to his Master. A blessing you are. My pride and my joy, do not ever doubt it. All that I ever will be is in you." He drew Obi-Wan to him until their foreheads touched, the young man felt his master's next words as much as he heard them. "You are my Padawan." The fierce possessiveness in his Master's normally measured tones sent a strange thrill through the young man's troubled spirit, as did the unspoken echo through their mental link. //Mine.// He was barely conscious of his own soft reply.

//Yours.// and was completely unaware of the response it produced in Qui-Gon, who started a little and released a shuddering breath before slowly drawing back.

//Sleep now Obi-Wan. You need your rest.// The Jedi felt a wave of guilt flow from the youth.

"I am sorry master, I disturbed your healing, your in...injuries-"

Qui-Gon did not miss the way Obi-Wan stumbled over the word, as though it hurt him to speak it.

"They are quite healed young one, I was not sleeping." He gently pressed Obi-Wan back down on to the bed. "But you must sleep now it is early still." Recognizing the youth's reluctance to return to sleep, and understanding his even greater reluctance to express it, Qui-Gon added, "I will rest with you, if there is room?"

Obi-Wan had begun to make room even before he had finished speaking; the youth flushed as he realized his eagerness was apparent to his Master. He ducked his head before glancing up shyly.

Qui-Gon smiled to put him at ease and then lay down on top of the blankets beside his Padawan. "Sleep now." //I am here.//

//Yes, Master.//. Qui-Gon cast a quick glance to reassure himself that Obi-Wan would rest, before he allowed his own weariness to overtake him.

Chapter III

Yoda's voice clear in his mind awoke Qui-Gon mid-morning. He glanced across at his still sleeping Padawan; Obi-Wan had moved towards him, but remained tightly curled within himself as though afraid to reach out for his Master even in sleep.

Qui-Gon frowned and sighed, he arose carefully so as not to disturb the sleeping youth, he need not of worried, exhaustion held Obi-Wan tightly in it's grip.

The young man didn't even stir as Qui-Gon moved away to seek out Master Yoda.

He did not have to look far, the Jedi Master was waiting for him in the main room his countenance grave.

"Master Yoda...?" Qui-Gon's voice reflected both greeting and inquiry, but Yoda waved him silent.

"Taogoa contacted us they have, talks go bad, need a calming presence, ask for you they have..."

"No!" Still mindful of his sleeping Padawan it came out as a forceful hiss. Yoda frowned

"Your duty it is. Concerned for the young one you are, only right that is, but go you must."

Qui-Gon gazed at Master Yoda despairingly. He recognized the truth in the words, but to leave Obi-Wan alone now; it was unthinkable. Yoda nodded, understanding even though Qui-Gon stayed silent. "Not good that you should leave the boy now, needs you he does. Go with you he can." Qui-Gon was unable to suppress a sigh of relief, but Yoda cautioned him, "Confused he still is, vulnerable, guard him closely you must."

"I will," Qui-Gon promised fervently, "I will." Yoda nodded apparently satisfied.

Qui-Gon had sensed Obi-Wan awakening as Yoda left. He hurried back to the bedchamber concerned his Padawan shouldn't awake to find himself alone. He found the young man just starting to sit up. Sorrowfully he took in the youth's drawn pallid features, dull eyes sunken in dark shadows. He was unaware that he looked little better himself.

"How are you feeling Obi-Wan?"

"Fine Master." The Padawan's tone was as flat and lifeless as his appearance. "I thought I heard Master Yoda?"

"Yes." Qui-Gon paused and moved to sit beside Obi-Wan on the bed.

The young man stiffened and some of the stillness faded from his face, only to be replaced by barely checked panic.

"Is something wrong Master?" Qui-Gon shook his head and tried to smile a little in reassurance though his eyes remained grave.

"I have been summoned to Taogoa, the trade negotiations there are faltering and Menet Dulaan has asked for me." Qui-Gon felt a flutter of fear quickly quelled from his Padawan at his words. "If you like you may accompany me?" He hesitated as Obi-Wan remained silent. "Your company would be welcome." Still Obi-Wan didn't respond; Qui-Gon felt his heart sink. "If you do not wish -"

"No!" Obi-Wan looked as startled as Qui-Gon by his sudden outburst. He quickly collected himself. "That is Master, I would like to accompany you if that is what you wish."

Qui-Gon smiled. "Yes Obi-Wan, that is what I wish." He squeezed the young man's shoulder gently to reaffirm his words, and was rewarded by a tentative but genuine smile.

Perhaps some time together away from the confines of the Academy would help them both.

Chapter IV

Less than three days into the negotiations Qui-Gon was regretting allowing his sense of duty to over-rule his head and heart. He found himself wishing for nothing more than to be left alone with his thoughts. Yoda had counseled meditation to rediscover his bond with his Padawan, and to reassess his role in the young man's life. This he had attempted to do both during the two day journey to Taogoa and every quiet moment since his arrival, of which there had been too few. However, he had been disturbed by reoccuring dreams which cast his relationship with Obi-Wan in a strange new light, even more disturbing was the realization that such a change would not be unwelcome to him..

Concerned that Obi-Wan would sense his thoughts and become afraid, Qui-Gon withdrew and shielded himself. Since the young man remained closed off to him along their shared emotional and mental link he had not felt that this would be too detrimental. With hindsight he now berated himself; he should have realized that Obi-Wan's keen sensitivity to the force would allow him to sense his Master's unease even without their link, and that cutting himself off from his Padawan at their most intimate level would only increase the unhappy young man's growing sense of uncertainty.

Obi-Wan had become sullen and snappy. Since his initial emotional outburst at the academy, he had grown steadily more withdrawn except for the occasional uncharacteristic display of churlish temper. Qui-Gon was forced to take his Padawan to one side and berate him gently but firmly after one such episode which had caused a few wide eyes amongst the dignitaries present.

Obi-Wan responded with a further display of petulant anger, announcing he needed room to breathe. On that note he stormed off in a flurry of brown robes, almost knocking aside Menet Kieshaa who was arriving late to the morning meeting. Qui-Gon had met her eyes in an unspoken apology and she nodded her acceptance. Though she did not know the details she knew, as did many of the others present, that the Jedi's' last mission had left some unseen scars.

Qui-Gon had allowed Obi-Wan to leave, recognizing there was nothing to be gained from forcing him to stay. Besides he did not need a Jedi's powers to see that the young man had been close to tears, his face flushed with shame at his own behavior. Qui-Gon hoped that some time alone would give Obi-Wan opportunity to collect himself; one thing he had learned in the past few days was that there was no talking to the youth when he was in such a temper.

He deeply regretted being forced to scold Obi-Wan but for once the young man's impotent rage had not been directed inward or towards him, but at a young member of the household staff whose only fault had been to startle the Padawan when they reached over to refill his goblet. Such an outburst could not be allowed to pass without some comment, tolerance for their own problems would only extend so far. It was accepted that he and his Padawan had been through a stressful ordeal and that their presence here was as much a favor to Menet Dulaan as a duty, but they were still expected as Jedi to perform their roles as a calming force and impartial mediator between the factions.

Though he found his own patience was being sorely tested. Obi-Wan was right on that score at least. The talks were stalling on petty differences and posturing as each party attempted to gain the upper hand by belittling the other with snide remarks and personal jibes.

Qui-Gon sighed and rubbed his temples to ease the ache he could feel building there. He found himself missing more than ever his Padawan's usual soothing presence, and even his occasionally inappropriate dry comment. He realized he felt isolated without his impudent young ally. Jedi were feared or respected, sometimes both, but few races were ever able to feel truly comfortable around them; many mistrusting their seemingly uncanny ability to see the hidden truths in hearts and minds.

Which was why, if and when a Jedi chose to form a close bond with another, they usually did so within there own ranks, amongst those who were completely at ease with them. Qui-Gon realised there was no-one amongst his own kind with whom he felt more at ease with than Obi-Wan.

A sudden flash of frantic emotion along their shared link startled him. //Obi-Wan?//

"Master Jinn, Master Jinn?" Menet Dulaan's words drew him back.

"Sorry .......," his voice trailed off as he realized he was unable to explain what had taken his attention.

"You are unwell Master Jinn?" Qui-Gon became aware of sympathetic glances from around the table. "Perhaps we should adjourn for today?"

In truth Qui-Gon wanted nothing more, but the distant reminder of Master Yoda's voice reminding him of his duties forced him to offer a token protest.

Fortunately it seemed several of those present had also had enough, and the negotiations were concluded until the next day.

Qui-Gon made his way to the room he shared with his Padawan, but already knew in his heart that he would not find the young man there. Something was very wrong, he had tried several times since that brief initial spark to contact Obi-Wan but was met with silence. He told himself this was not entirely unexpected, Obi-Wan was more than capable of shielding his thoughts from his Master if he chose to do so. Had the young man perhaps sought to contact him and then decided against it.

However that didn't explain the ripple of fear he had felt from the youth, nor the unease he now experienced.

As he entered their chamber and glanced around it was as he had feared, not only was Obi-Wan was not present it didn't seem he had been here at all; the room was unchanged from when they had left it early that morning. Briefly Qui-Gon debated whether he should remain a while and give Obi-Wan a little more time to return on his own, but concern for his Padawn's safety made it impossible for him to simply sit and wait. Master Yoda's words came back to him Vulnerable he is, guard him closely you must

Pausing only to clad himself in a second, warmer robe, he left to find his charge. //I am coming Obi-Wan, I am coming. //

He hurried through the corridors pausing only to casually inquire from those he passed if they had seen the young man. His anxiety only increased with each shaken head and apology, it seemed that no-one had seen him since he had stormed out of the meeting chamber.

Qui-Gon made his way to the walled gardens which surrounded the Citadel. Obi-Wan, in a brief moment of normal conversation, had expressed admiration for them; perhaps the young man had sought solitude here. Bathed in moonlight the gardens seemed far less pleasant then when they had first arrived. They were also far more extensive than Qui-Gon remembered and it was some time before he was able to verify that Obi-Wan was nowhere within the grounds.

With a growing sense of alarm Qui-Gon made his way around to the main gates. His worst fears were confirmed when the guards present all recalled a young man in drab robes push past them to head into the city. Somewhat shamefaced they confessed they had paid little regard to the youth, though one sheepishly admitted that he had belatedly called out a few brief words of warning.

Qui-Gon banked down his anger. The guard's unease was not unfounded. Taogoa was a place of contrasts. Within the pale green walls of the Citadel all was order and beauty. However outside the city's boundaries was a very different place, a shanty town that even hard-up Corellian traders tried to avoid. Primarily consisting of taverns and shops it was a favorite haunt of slavers and bounty hunters. Taogoan's remained rigidly law-abiding within their society by keeping the lawless element on the outside.

Strangely the system worked - the shanty town residents stayed clear of the citadel and it's occupants, while the Taogoan's turned a blind eye to whatever murderous activities went on within the town's sprawling dirty streets. So long in fact had things worked this way that no-one was sure any longer which had come first - Taogoa as an oasis amidst the chaos, or the shanty town growing perhaps from 'hangers- on' banished from the citadel for unruly ways.

Qui-Gon had instructed his Padawan that the town was a dangerous place, and to be avoided. Normally, Obi-Wan would never have gone against his wishes in such an overt manner; but with a sinking heart he realised that Obi-Wan was far from thinking rationally. His earlier behavior was a clear indicator of that. No, Qui-Gon was sure his student was out there, but to find him in that swollen suburban mass would be nigh on impossible even with the force as his guide.

Taking his leave of the guards he moved out into the main street. He paused there and took a moment to center himself. He concentrated on strengthening the link between Master and Padawan, a delicate thread that could not be broken even by death. The force held them together, bound them to each other through this fragile but tenacious link. It was, however, elusive and difficult to gain a hold on. Only by releasing all other thoughts and emotions and by allowing the natural flow of the force to swell it could he draw it to him. Letting go of his fear for his Padawan proved hard, but Qui-Gon was a Jedi Master and strong with the force; finally he was able to reach out and touch the unmistakable signature of Obi-Wan Kenobi. He rejoiced in the connection for a moment before drawing his hood up around his face as he moved into the streets, allowing the force to guide him.

As he traveled, he became aware that something was very wrong; he could still sense Obi-Wan but the link was becoming thready and weak, as though a heavy mist was drawing over it. Strange too were the thoughts and emotions pouring down the link.

Obi-Wan was a sometimes rather brash young man but, for all his occasional bursts of outspokenness, he had always kept his inner thoughts and emotions tightly in check So much so that Qui-Gon knew that to others he sometimes appeared priggish. To receive such an unreserved flood was almost unnerving, particularly some of the images accompanying the thoughts. Out of respect for his student Qui- Gon made a conscious effort to ignore them, but his concern for his Padawan's well being increased with each passing moment.

Eventually his path brought him to a noisy corner tavern on a street some distance from the citadel. Taking a deep breath and adjusting his robes to conceal his lightsaber, Qui-Gon pushed his way into the smoky interior. Most of those who didn't immediately recognize his Jedi garb still moved aside as he cut through the crowds; his height and expression deterrent enough.

Approaching the bar his attention was drawn to a patron disappearing through a doorway to his right behind a straggly yellowed curtain, first pressing some payment into the hand of the Gamorrean on guard. Following his instincts, Qui-Gon casually approached the doorway and the guard at once moved forward to bar his way.

Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed he leant forward and spoke softly, "I may enter." The guard's expression melted from menace to confusion, but when Qui-Gon smiled and motioned the guard to step aside he did so without protest.

Slipping past the dirty curtain, Qui-Gon found himself in a narrow passageway; the cool quiet was a welcome relief after the smoke and noise of the bar. Doors ran down both sides, while the passage itself curled around to the right. Qui-Gon rested his hand on his lightsaber; something about this place unsettled him.

He made his way along the passage occasionally pausing to listen at the doors, but he could make out nothing other than the occasional playful shriek or burst of laughter. As he passed one door it suddenly opened behind him and drunken giggles filled the air. A figure staggered out, ignoring him completely, and made it's way back to the bar.

Qui-Gon risked a glance inside the room, it was empty save for a very large disheveled bed on which a young and drunken Naroobian lay, her hands lazily stroking circles in her soft creamy white pelt.

Now with a very clear idea of what this place was Qui-Gon's sense of urgency increased. He pressed on until he finally stopped at a door where he thought he felt his Padawan's presence. There were muffled sounds from within and listening closely he could make out at least two separate voices though they were standing too far from the door for him to make out anything that was being said.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he opened the door a little and the voices became clear.

"Very pretty, has he been used many times?"

"No, I told you he's new."

"Hmph very likely." Disbelief filled the arrogant tones.

"I speak the truth, he is an off-worlder, untried I assure you." The salesman tried a new track, his voice became softly wheedling. "You will see that I speak the truth yourself, if you are willing to pay to try him?"

"Unbroken you say..." the arrogant voice sounded more interested. "Very well, 300 credits."

"300! he is worth 1200 at the least!"

The buyer gave an indelicate snort, "I don't want to buy him, Snegor, just play with him a little."

"1200 is a reasonable price, where else would you find one like this, and untouched!"

"I only have your word for that," the tone was sharp.

"I am a business man it would not be in my own interest to make such a claim, and to such a valued customer, if it were not true."

"Hmm..." It seemed the buyer's resolve was weakening. "800."

"950 and I'm robbing myself, and I make this offer only because you are such a honored customer."

"Very well, but for the whole night."

"Of course, such wares must be sampled at leisure." There was brief silence before the arrogant voice spoke again.

"The credits have been transferred."

"Thank you, may the night bring you much pleasure, is there anything else you require?"

The voices moved away slightly and Qui-Gon risked opening the door a little wider to enable him to look inside. What he saw almost stopped his heart.

With his wrists lashed by slender thongs to a metal ring fastened to the wall above his head, Obi-Wan sat alone on a large bed, naked save for his Padawan loin cloth which had been pulled loose enough to expose him. However, he seemed entirely unaware of his surroundings or his predicament, his head lolled forward slackly, obviously either drugged or drunk, or both. With a growing sense of fury, Qui-Gon turned his attention to the room's other occupants: the brothel owner, and the man who had just paid 950 credits to rob his young Padawan of his innocence.

They were standing with their backs to him, haggling over the price of a vial of Jubian oil. Silent as a shadow Qui-Gon slipped into the room, they were only alerted to his presence by the hum of his lightsaber as he brought it to bear. He was unable to completely suppress the thrill of satisfaction that their obvious terror brought him.

The bottle slipped from the seller's fingers, and the heavy scent of perfumed oil filled the air as the contents spilled across the wooden floor. The seller quickly attempted to regain his composure; the buyer was already backing away.

"Who are you?! What do you mean by coming in here?!"

"I have come for my Padawan." Qui-Gon's voice was deceptively calm as he fought back the waves of anger that threatened his composure. "You fool," the buyer hissed. "The boy is Jedi!"

"Wh...what,?" the seller stammered and then blanched as he realized the depth of his mistake. "I didn't know, how could I know, he was brought to me like this, I didn't know..." Suddenly he made a move for the blaster at his side. A heartbeat later he knelt on the floor clutching at the remains of his ruined arm, the stench of burnt flesh fouled the air. Wrinkling his nose fastidiously the buyer lifted shaking hands and tried backing away still further.

"I want no trouble." The arrogance had fled from his voice, now it shook.

Qui-Gon's noble features twisted into a scornful grimace. "No, you just wanted to take a boy against his will."

"I thought he was a whore!" The buyer jumped and let out an undignified squeak as the lightsaber swung closer; Qui-gon's eyes had narrowed dangerously.

Realizing his error the buyer backpeddaled frantically. "I see now that he is not, please take him and go, please." There was a groan from the vicinity of the floor as the seller lost his hold on consciousness and collapsed forwards to sprawl at Qui-Gon's feet. He fell against a cabinet as he did so, jarring a lamp which clattered to the floor. In an instant flames licked across the surface, greedily lapping up the spilt oil.

Qui-Gon leapt back as the flames caught hold of the trailing bedcovers and the bed began to burn. Disregarding the seller, Qui-Gon quickly cut through his Padawan's bonds. As Obi-Wan began to fall sideways, he caught him and swung him up over his shoulder. Turning, he was just in time to see the seller scuttle out of the door.

Qui-Gon no longer had a thought for him, his only concern now was to get himself and his Padawan out before the fire trapped them both.

Pulling his billowing robes tight around him, he flung himself over the flames towards the doorway; his agility only a fraction impaired by his load.

Once more in the corridor, Qui-Gon turned to find several patrons bearing down on him - some carrying water, others weapons. The Jedi spun and hurried further down the corridor, hoping that somewhere there would be another exit.

He found it at the end of the corridor; his lightsaber made short work of the chains and locks and he rushed out into the cool night air. He didn't stop until he had travelled several blocks and the voices behind him had faded into silence.

Darting into a narrow side street, Qui-Gon gently lowered Obi-Wan to the ground. The youth groaned weakly; his eyes fluttered open but they were glazed and unfocused. Taking off his outer robe, Qui-Gon wrapped it around his Padawan's slender frame. Then, lifting him back into his arms, he held him firmly against his chest. With one last glance to make sure it was safe to proceed, he continued to make his way back to the citadel.

Perhaps his sense of purpose was evident on his face, for he encountered few on the journey back and none troubled him. He stopped at the end of the main street still unobserved by the guards on the gate. Obi-wan moaned weakly and stirred in his arms.

"Master?" Qui-Gon lowered him gently and drew back the robe a little from Obi-Wan's face. The young man's face screwed up into a grimace. //Hurts Master...sick// Qui-Gon gently held his Padawan as the youth heaved painfully. When he had finished, he tenderly wiped Obi-Wan's mouth with a corner of the robe, frowning at the heat he felt in the young man's flushed face.

"We cannot stay here Obi-Wan it isn't safe, we must get back inside the Citadel." Obi-Wan nodded but Qui-Gon wasn't sure if anything he had said was understood. The young man still seemed groggy, and was obviously fighting unconsciousness.

Pulling the robe around him once more, Qui-Gon lifted him back into his arms and approached the gate house.

The guards were evidently more alert to anyone approaching from the town but they stood down as soon as they identified him. They accepted his explanation that the young man had been attacked in the streets, and one immediately ran to fetch a healer. Another assisted Qui-Gon in taking the youth back to the Jedi's rooms.

Qui-Gon was grateful that the lateness of the hour meant the corridors were empty, even the household staff had long since retired. They made it to their chamber without encountering anyone. The guard opened the door and followed Qui-Gon inside.

Qui-Gon laid Obi-Wan on the bed, and thanked the guard, politely turning aside any further offers of assistance. He didn't want to encourage any speculation that might arise from talk surrounding his apprentice being discovered in such a state.

Though from the look of understanding on the guard's face as he left, he realized it might be too late.

Chapter V

Removing the soiled robe, Qui-Gon set about gathering a soft washcloth and some cool water. Seating himself beside his apprentice, he began to wash away the sweat and dirt which soiled the youth. He tried to detach himself from his task, but the new awareness of his Padawan meant he struggled to stay the tremors from his hand. Once the young man was clean, he left to fetch another cloth and some slightly cooler water. Obi-Wan felt frighteningly hot, and Qui-Gon hoped it would help reduce the fever.

The Healer arrived just as he began; Qui-Gon was thankful that he had come alone. The elderly Taogoan set his bag down on the table and, lips pursed, leaned over the youth. Qui-Gon was aware the smell of alcohol and smoke still hung about them both, and wasn't surprised when the Healer recoiled, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

"He is drunk?!"

"He has been drugged!" Qui-Gon was unable to completely quell the anger from his voice. The Healer glanced at him, startled, but quickly came forward to examine his patient. He frowned at the youth's feverish state, it deepened as he laid a hand across his brow.

"What has he taken?"

"He did not take it, someone gave it to him." Qui-Gon could feel his control slipping in his concern, and taking a deep breath he collected himself.

The Healer tutted in annoyance. "I cannot help if I do not know what was taken, whatever I give him could kill instead of cure." Qui-Gon hesitated, reluctant to expose the circumstances of his Padawan's sickness. Centering himself, he drew on the force and allowed his mind to brush against the Healer's; despite the Taogoan's acerbic manner he detected only concern and compassion, and a genuine desire to help.

Qui-Gon sighed. "He was upset earlier."

"That I heard," the Healer replied drily. Qui-Gon grimaced at the the thought that his Padawan's behavior had been cause for gossip. He rubbed a hand over his eyes and sighed; the Healer's face softened in the face of the other man's misery and exhaustion. "Please go on."

"He went for a walk," Qui-Gon paused, "outside the walls." The Healer's eyes widened in alarm. "I found him in a tavern, he...I think they gave him something to make him more...compliant," his mouth twisted bitterly. The Healer's horrified expression showed he understood too well what Qui-Gon hadn't said; he looked back down at the youth in alarm.

"Is he hurt?"

"No." Qui-Gon's eyes darkened in remembrance as he saw his Padawan once again bound, naked, and helpless. "I arrived just as the 'negotiations' concluded." The Healer suppressed a shiver at the barely controlled anger in the Jedi Master's tone; evidently a Jedi's emotional distance only stretched so far. However, in these circumstances it was perhaps not so remarkable. Though not part of the negotiations, he had seen enough over the past few days to have recognized the very close bond between these two.

"They probably gave him Ju-Ju or Calicus root, they both have the effect of increasing the libido. However, they are prohibited aphrodisiacs because they also reduce the taker's self control and make him open to suggestion." He shook his head concerned, "They do not, however, normally have such an extreme side effect; perhaps if he had already consumed enough alcohol to be intoxicated?"

"It would not take much."

"Jedi do not drink?" the Healer sounded surprised.

"Very little, we must keep our mind's clear." It was as much as Qui- Gon was prepared to divulge; the affairs of Jedi were not for general consumption.

"Well that could explain his extreme reaction, has he vomited at all?"

"Yes, once at least."

"Hmm," the Healer nodded slowly. "Well, that is probably a good thing. He should have purged himself of what was still in his stomach. However, we have no way of knowing how much of it was already in his blood." Qui-Gon tried to remain patient as the Healer rifled through his medicine sack muttering to himself. Finally, he found what he was searching for and looked back up to address the Jedi.

"It is usually best in these cases just to allow nature to take it's course. His fever should burn up the toxins, but it must not be allowed to rise too high, or go on for too long. He will need to be watched closely, do you need someone to sit with him?"

"No, I will stay." Privately the Healer thought the older Jedi could do with some rest himself, but was wise enough to keep his own council. In the face of such devotion, he knew he would be paid no heed.

"I will leave you this." The Healer handed Qui-Gon a small brown bottle. "It is made to my own recipe," he explained with some pride. "It contains extract of Namachee flowers. Add three drops to a flagon of water, it will help reduce the fever and any nausea."

He rose slowly. "You do right to bathe him; continue with that. If his condition worsens or the fever hasn't broken by morning, summon me at once."

"Thank you."

The Healer smiled kindly at him and then glanced back down at Obi- Wan. "He who is loved so deeply is fortunate indeed."

Qui-Gon just looked at him in apparent confusion and the Healer departed; wondering how such an obviously sensitive man could be so blind to what lay directly before him.

Of course, the Healer was not to know that Qui-Gon was far from ignorant; he had been aware of his own changing feelings for his Padawan for sometime, but had sought to suppress them. It was partly the fact that he was finding this concealment increasingly difficult that had led to him trying to draw back from Obi-Wan. He didn't want to, but their Master - Padawan bond was a strong one and he feared Obi- Wan's discovering his desires through their link. He had hoped that by pushing Obi-Wan away a little, and taking on a new Padawan, he could maintain their relationship at a safe distance. He had discovered almost too late that he was in danger of doing the one thing he feared most: losing Obi-Wan completely. Drawing back to him had been the only way, it seemed, to save them both.

Unfortunately, his continued unwillingness to express fully how he felt about the young man, even to himself, had only resulted in further pain. He blamed himself for Obi-Wan's suffering and near rape and, even as he pleaded silently for forgiveness, he made a vow to tell Obi-Wan the truth at last and hope that in doing so he would not destroy them both. He found some small solace in the uncensored images he had received from Obi-Wan; even if they were partially the result of a drugged stupor it still suggested that the young man did not find the idea of intimacy between them unacceptable. But was that what he wanted?

Bonding between Jedi was not common as they usually maintained an almost chilly distance from physical intimacy; passion could be dangerous. Desire was linked with a loss of control; only when the bond was certain and the risk of jealousy and anger was non-existent would the Council give it's blessing to such a union. Between Master and Padawan the path was even harder as there had to be complete certainty that the apprentice was mature enough emotionally, as well as physically, to handle such a change, and that it would not interfere with the Teacher - Student aspect of the relationship. Qui-Gon had heard of Master - Padawan bondings being blessed by the Council, but none in his time as a Master.

Perhaps it would be better to say nothing and to let Obi-Wan go completely. Increasingly despairing, he tried to push such thoughts aside as he concentrated on nursing his charge. But each pain-filled moan was like a knife through his heart, and he could not silence the inner voice which taunted him. You did this to him, you did this

Chapter VI

Obi-Wan spent a difficult night. Qui-Gon never moved from his side except to refill the bowl of cool water with which he continued to sponge down his young apprentice, while Obi-wan twisted and turned; lost in some dark fever dream. Occasionally he called out for his Master, who always responded with a reassuring touch and a soft, "I am here Obi-Wan." The rest of his Padawan's words were nonsensical ramblings.

By early morning Qui-Gon was becoming steadily more fearful for his Padawan. The young man's fever had climbed steadily until his tortured flesh almost burned when touched. The delirious muttering ceased but the silence was somehow still more frightening as it amplified how hard the young man fought to draw each breath. Throwing aside the wash cloth, Qui-Gon summoned the Healer.

The elderly physician arrived promptly and seemed greatly concerned by his patient's condition, and as Qui-Gon looked on in horror, the young man began to convulse.

Helplessly, he moved forward and assisted the Healer in holding Obi- Wan until the fit passed. Finally, after several heartstopping seconds, Obi-Wan collapsed back limply, his breathing even more ragged than before. The Healer looked askance at the Master Jedi.

"We must break his fever."

Qui-Gon paled as he understood the meaning behind the Healer's words. "The shock...?"

"Is something we must risk. If we do not bring his fever down he will burn himself up."

Seeing the anguish on Qui-Gon's face, the Healer sought to reassure him. "He is young and strong - the risks are less than if we let this continue."

Qui-Gon stroked the burning flesh of Obi-wan's arm and his voice broke a little as he gave his consent.

"What can I do?"

"I will order an ice bath prepared, you must bring him to it when it is ready." The Healer left silently. When he returned a short time later he was accompanied by four blue robed assistants; staggering in his wake, they struggling to balance an overflowing bath between them. They placed it in the center of the room with obvious relief and stood ready to assist; two had blankets draped over their shoulders to wrap the youth in afterwards. Their faces were grave, indicating an understanding of the dangers inherent in this venture. The fever must be broken and immersion in cold water was a tried and tested method, but it was a terrible shock for a body to bear and could as easily kill as cure.

No-one spoke as Qui-Gon tenderly stroked his Padawan's face. Mindless of those present, his thoughts now centered on this young man alone. He placed a gentle kiss on Obi-Wan's forehead and, as he drew back, allowed his lips to graze down to brush against his Padawan's.

//Do not leave me beloved. // Then he gathered up his precious charge and, with his heart thundering in his chest, walked with him to the waiting ice-bath. Unnoticed by him, the Healer waved his assistants back as they came forward to help. He did not want their presence to upset the bond between Master and Apprentice. The Taogoan knew little of the ways of Jedi, but he did know that those sensitive to the force required delicate handling.

"May the Force guide and protect us," Qui-Gon beseeched openly, before carefully lowered the younger man into the chilled waters. He felt the cold seep into his own flesh, numbing him.

Obi-Wan reacted at once, instinctively fighting to escape the water's icy embrace. Qui-Gon reached out with the force to try to calm him but Obi-Wan's mind was a swirling mass of pain and confusion that threatened to suck Qui-Gon in. Reluctantly, he withdrew and was left to use his physical strength to hold the wildly thrashing young man.

At last the violence of the struggles subsided until with one last tremorous shudder Obi-Wan lay quite still, his limbs hanging ghost- like in the dark blue water.

"Now! Take him out at once!" This time the Healer allowed the attendants to come to Qui-Gon's aid and he was grateful for their assistance in lifting his Padawan's slippery form from the bath. For such a deceptively slender youth, Obi-wan was surprisingly heavy. Fear washed over him as together they lay the young man's unresponsive body on the blankets and briskly rubbed his clammy flesh. Anxiously observing Obi-Wan's blueing lips, he added his voice to their administrations.

"Come on, Obi-Wan, you are stronger than this, come on, fight, fight." After what seemed like an eternity the assistants drew back and the Healer came forward. There was an agonizing pause while he looked over the youth; then he turned to back to the older Jedi with a relieved sigh.

"The fever is broken." Qui-Gon drew breath on a sob, and expressed his gratitude with his eyes, words momentarily lost to him. Obi-Wan lay naked as a newborn, still pale but now with a healthier pink tinge, his breathing faint but steady.

Quickly they wrapped him in a robe and laid him upon the couch. The Healer smiled, his relief evident. "He should sleep for some time so he should eat something when he wakes. Now I must go and explain to Menet Dulaan that you cannot attend todays meeting..." He held up a hand when Qui-Gon would have interrupted. "Do not be concerned, I will give no details. Only that your Padawan is unwell and needs you, Menet Dulaan will understand."

"Thank you." Qui-Gon's eyes expressed more than the simplicity of his words. The Healer squeezed the Jedi's hand warmly before ushering out his assistants who were still weaving under the weight of the bath, though most of the water had been lost on the floor during Obi-Wan's struggles.

When they had gone, Qui-Gon settled himself beside Obi-Wan. Drawing the young man into his arms, he rested his cheek against his Padawan's still damp forehead. Now that the crisis had passed, and Obi-Wan was no longer in any immediate danger, Qui-Gon found his thoughts returning to the cause of all this pain.

The Jedi Master realized that his own despondency and Obi-Wan's unreasonable behavior were directly linked to the growing rift between them. As when they had disagreed over Anakin, it felt wrong to be distanced from his Padawan on any level; he knew that force sensitive as Obi-Wan was he would feel any separation just as keenly. Before, the breach had been resolved by something as uncomplicated as the truth. He had tried to talk to Obi-Wan immediately after his declaration to take Anakin as his new Padawan but, hurt and obstinate, the young man had shut him out.

Despite the pain it caused them both, he had patiently waited until his Padawan was ready to approach him and initiate a resolution. Indeed Obi-Wan's hesitant, but heart felt, apology had seemed to diffuse the situation, allowing him an opening to praise and reassure the younger man. He realized now he had dismissed the situation too readily; not realizing they had merely covered cracks which would continue to spider outward until they threatened to shatter them both.

Perhaps this time it was his turn to take a step forward. However, it was a narrow path he could step upon, he was still the Master. He could not allow that to coerce Obi-Wan into a relationship the young man may not want. No, he knew any move towards forming such a bond had to be initiated by the student; but perhaps he could show that such a bond would not be unwelcome.

He was afraid that if he couldn't heal the widening breach between them, Obi-Wan would spiral further into chaos and despair; only the dark side lay along such a path. Obi-Wan was strong both in mind and body, as well as powerfully gifted in the force, but this rift between them was like a sickness bleeding away his strength. If they were to encounter another such as the Sith he would now fear the result. In his heart he did not believe could ever be turned, but he could be destroyed.

The truth might be a cure but it might also be the impetus to drive Obi- Wan away forever. Dare he take such a risk? But was there really any choice? And if he chose to make his feelings known, how to speak of it? Qui-Gon was an eloquent man but, when not imparting advice or a lesson, he spoke few words to his Padawan; their bond normally rendered the need for lengthy discussion unnecessary. Enough could be conveyed simply by a look, or gesture. Besides, he allowed himself a wry smile, on those occasions when they did talk it was mainly one sided; Obi-Wan could be quite....chatty.

He decided he needed to follow Master Yoda's advice and meditate; perhaps the force, which seemed to have guided him towards this mercurial young man, could offer further illumination. Maintaining a healing link with his still sleeping Padawan, he allowed himself to fall into a light meditative trance.

Chapter VII

After several hours of contemplation, he felt a subtle change along their link as Obi-Wan began to come around and he broke his trance immediately. This time the meditation had helped and he was resolved to speak with his Padawan as soon as he judged the young man ready to receive his words.

As Obi-Wan's eyes fluttered open, he banished any uncertainty from his face and schooled his expression into one of tender bemusement.

"So, my Padawan, you are awake at last." He watched as groggy confusion slowly seeped away to be replaced by a guilty flush.

"Forgive me Master...I...," the apology stumbled as Obi-Wan's fever roughened voice broke into a dry cough. Qui-Gon released one hand from around his Padawan to pick up the glass of water. Obi-Wan accepted it gratefully; smiling shyly when Qui-Gon steadied his trembling fingers by encasing them within his own. After only a few sips, Obi-Wan could drink no more and Qui-Gon set the water aside.

"Forgive? What is there to forgive Obi-Wan?" The Jedi Master purposely allowed his words to be slightly leading. He decided to proceed cautiously; Obi-Wan was still somewhat dazed and he was unsure as to how much his Padawan remembered.

The young man's boyish features betrayed his confusion as he obviously struggled to regain some sense of equilibrium. Obi-Wan suddenly seemed to become aware that he lay cradled in his Master's arms like the child he no longer was.

Bewildered, and still weak, the Padawan was unable to shield his thoughts completely; Qui-Gon felt a wave of embarrassment, fear and.....desire? The Jedi Master froze momentarily, but there was no mistake; Obi-Wan's distress stemmed from the fear of discovery.

Sensitive to Obi-Wan's increasing discomfort, Qui-Gon allowed the youth to slide off his lap and sit beside him. However, he kept an arm around the boy reluctant to lose the physical contact.

Obi-Wan was still unaware that he was projecting his emotions so strongly that Qui-Gon was having difficulty shutting them out. He wanted to respect his Padawan's privacy but he didn't want to close himself off from the young man. He found himself humbled by the depth of the passion that buffeted him. But, even as his heart rejoiced, Qui-Gon felt a deep sense of sorrow; how could he have been so blind?

Qui-Gon had always counselled Obi-Wan to be sensitive of the force around him, ever mindful of the moment, and yet it seemed that he had been stumbling along in complete ignorance of his own feelings and those of his Padawan. How could he have missed this?

He glanced across at the young man and sighed unconsciously; the blanket had slipped off one shoulder exposing an expanse of pale golden flesh. As he stared, Obi-Wan wiggled his hands free of the blanket's folds and tugged it up to cover himself.

Oblivious to Qui-Gon's gaze, the youth kept his head bowed as his fingers continued to toy with the blanket's edge in a nervous gesture. It reminded the Jedi Master painfully of the boy Obi-Wan, who had often fiddled with the corner of his tunic in just such a way when scolded. He shook himself free of such memories; Obi-Wan was no longer a child and it would not do to think of him as such. No, his Padawan had been a man for some years; still young, still with much to learn, but a man nonetheless.

//Obi-Wan?// Qui-Gon waited until his Padawan turned wary eyes upon him before continuing aloud. "Obi-Wan there is nothing to forgive."

Obi-Wan looked like he wanted to object but stayed silent. Qui-Gon changed track. "What do you remember about last night?" He waited patiently while his Padawan collected his thoughts.

Eventually, however, Obi-Wan shook his head obviously dismayed. "I'm sorry, Master, I remember very little."

"Tell me what you do remember," Qui-Gon prompted gently. Obi- Wan's eyes lost their focus as he struggled to recall the night's events.

"I remember being startled by the server, being angry at myself for being startled, I shouted at him, you...you were disappointed, I left..." The young man's voice trailed off, his next words were colored with uncertainty. "I think...I think I left the Citadel?" he looked up at Qui- Gon questioningly.

"You did," Qui-Gon confirmed.

"I drank something?" Obi-Wan's gaze focused inward again; he seemed to be wondering aloud, pushing himself to remember.

Qui-Gon hesitated, unsure what exactly to tell his Padawan. He was unwilling to press the young man too hard. Obi-Wan was still weak and confused; he decided it would be better to allow the memories to resurface in their own time. Preferably, when they were both safely back on Corsucant and within the confines of the Temple. For now, he sought to reassure his student.

"No harm has been done Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon hoped he spoke the truth. The Healer had confirmed his own assessment, that Obi-Wan had not been defiled, but the image of his bound and naked apprentice still haunted him. He pushed such painful thoughts aside Be mindful of the moment Qui-Gon Jinn he berated himself.

"Now Obi-Wan you must eat something." The words had the desired affect.

Obi-Wan broke free of his introspection and screwed up his face in rebellious disgust. Qui-Gon felt warmed by such a familiar expression. "You need something in your stomach Obi-Wan it will help settle it." He released his hold on the young man and stood up. Obi-Wan tried to follow him and he turned back just in time to catch the youth as he almost pitched forward onto his face.

Qui-Gon half lifted his Padawan back on to the couch; Obi-Wan clung to him shakily, what little color he'd had had been bleached away. "Stay."

Qui-Gon's tone was kind but firm. "I will bring you something." The young man nodded slowly, then as Qui-Gon made to move away he reached out and caught his Master's arm.

"May I have some clothes please, Master?"

Qui-Gon smiled, "Of course." Obi-Wan started to drop his hand away and then reached for him again in sudden fear.

"My lightsaber?!"

Qui-Gon shook his head sadly. "I am sorry, Obi-Wan, it is lost."

"Lost...," Obi-Wan echoed in disbelief as his face crumpled in despair. Qui-Gon felt his heart clench in the face of his Padawan's distress. He wanted nothing more than to enfold the young man in his arms, but instead he simply lay his hand upon Obi-Wan's head in a gesture of comfort.

"You will build another, my Padawan." Obi-Wan lifted tear-filled eyes to meet his Master's and nodded dutifully.

Qui-Gon understood only too well the sense of loss. A lightsaber was much more than a simple instrument to a Jedi. A powerful but, in some ways, archaic weapon, the right to bear it was held only by senior Padawans, Knights and Masters. It's presence alone marked the carrier as such to outsiders. For those within the Jedi ranks it had far greater significance. When a boy was chosen to be a Padawan, one of the tasks set to him was the building of a lightsaber; it's completion was a rite of passage. It was understood that the right to use it came with great responsibility; few ever earned such a right.

His face set in sorrow, Qui-Gon drew back and went to prepare some soup for his Padawan. As it warmed, he wandered into the bedchamber and dug out Obi-Wan's second tunic; the youth had no spare robe or boots but. he surmised, he could probably purchase something suitable from the Citadel's busy market later. He took the clothes back through to Obi-Wan. He did not miss the hand which hastily tried to scrub away spilt tears but, to spare his Padawan's dignity, he made as though he had not noticed and merely left to bring the soup.

As he returned, the door chimed. He frowned and handed the soup to Obi-Wan, who glanced towards the door nervously before taking it. Qui-Gon positioned himself in front of the door before opening it, careful to block the view of his apprentice with his stance.

"Menet Triaa." Qui-Gon was a little surprised to see the Taogoan dignitary served as Menet Dulaan's second in command.

"Forgive the intrusion Master Jinn, Menet Dulaan would have attended you personally but the talks do not go well and he is unable leave."

"Ahh yes, the Healer forwarded my apologies I hope." Qui-Gon found himself regretting not having taken the time to address Dulaan personally.

"Yes, he informed the Chapter that your Padawan is unwell?" One slender eyebrow rose in inquiry as the Taogoan attempted to see past the Jedi into the room.

Qui-Gon spoke, "Yes I am unable to leave him for the moment, my apologies. I trust you understand."

"But of course."

"Please extend my deepest apologies to the rest of the Chapter also. I hope the talks will go well."

"That is unlikely," the Taogoan remarked dryly. He gave a resigned sigh and, with a final elegant bow of acknowledgement to Qui-Gon, he left.

Qui-Gon closed the door at once and went back to Obi-Wan who had sat frozen throughout the exchange. He smiled down at the youth who glanced up at him worriedly.

"You are not attending the talks, Master?"

"Do not concern yourself Obi-Wan; I will speak with Master Dulaan later on the matter."

As Qui-Gon made to move away, Obi-Wan made a grab for his sleeve which almost made him lose the soup bowl balancing in his lap.

"No, Master!"

"Careful, Obi-Wan."

"Sorry, Master." Qui-Gon sighed at Obi-Wan's unusually meek tone.

"Obi-Wan, I cannot leave you alone like this." Obi-Wan's face suffused with a mixture of misery and mortification.

Qui-Gon was torn; he had no wish to leave his overwrought Padawan alone, but he also knew that without his presence, in all likelihood, the talks would stall. What little ground they had gained in the past few days would be lost, prolonging their stay here still further. He also knew Obi-Wan still felt ashamed and embarrassed; he had no desire to add guilt, however misplaced, to his Padawan's burdens.

"Very well Obi-Wan, I will go but you must remain here and rest. I will try to return during the midday break. If you need me, call at once."

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan had visibly relaxed at his Master's words and Qui-Gon felt his unease lift a little. He gave Obi-Wan the little vial containing the Healer's concoction before he left, instructing the youth on how much to add to the water and to drink it should he feel sick or dizzy at all. Then, still with some misgivings, he departed for the talks.

Chapter VIII - Obi-Wan

Obi-Wan took a few more mouthfuls of the soup before setting the bowl aside with a grimace. Not that the soup wasn't good - normally he would have been grateful for such normal food. Unfortunately, his throat burned and each spoonful went down like liquid fire. What made it even worse was the fear that it would be even less pleasant coming back up. His stomach rolled sickeningly as the smell of the broth wafted towards him and he turned away from it. Drawing his legs up, he hugged his knees and tried to will the nausea away.

By keeping very still, he managed to settle his stomach enough that he no longer feared any immediate reprisal. Closing his eyes, he rested his head forward and silently berated himself. How stupid could he be? First by acting so badly, bringing shame to himself and to his Master; shouting at that poor serving boy, then storming off in a childish tantrum. Now, it seemed likely that he had compounded his foolishness by leaving the Citadel, something expressly forbidden by his Master, and drinking himself sick. Forcing his Master to nurse him like an infant.

His thoughts turned to Qui-Gon - the man who's opinion and respect mattered more to him than any other's in the entire universe. His mouth twisted bitterly as he thought how his Master must now be ruing the day he ever decided to accept him as his Padawan. He was a pitiful excuse for an apprentice; how could he ever expect to become a Jedi, he would never pass the trials. No, he corrected himself miserably, he would never be allowed to take the trials.

He thought of his lightsaber lost in some dark alley, or more probably in the hands of some blackmarketeer, already being butchered for it's parts. He felt fresh tears sting the backs of his eyes and for once made no move to check them; he was sure he had never been so miserable in his entire life. He almost wished Qui-Gon had taken him to task. That quiet sad countenance was almost more than he had been able to bear.

He pities me Obi-Wan thought despairingly. He knows I will never be a Jedi

He thought back to their last real talk back on Coruscant. Qui-Gon had said he was proud of him, that he would make a fine Jedi. But that was then his inner voiced railed at him. You had a second chance and you blew it. He found himself imagining the scene before the Council. Qui-Gon would sadly confess his mistake in trying to train Obi-Wan and recommend that he be sent to the agri-corps to train as a farmer.

Finally, Obi-Wan could bear the pain of his shame and imagined loss no more and he broke into heart wrenching sobs. Falling sideways he curled himself into a fetal position. He was careful to shield himself tightly so his Master would not be disturbed by his distress; then, like a child, he cried himself to sleep.

Chapter IX - Obi-Wan

He awoke several hours later to find himself still alone. His head was heavy, his eyes sore and gummy from several hours of crying. Anxious that his Master should not find him in such a state, Obi-Wan forced his stiff limbs to unwind and, by catching hold of the table for support, pushed himself upright. His knees sagged and the room spun alarmingly. Obi-Wan's grip tightened on the table top as, for a moment, he felt sure he would black out.

Finally he was able to fight back the wave of dizziness, though the sense of nausea lingered. Eventually it too subsided sufficiently for him to steady himself, and he staggered barefoot to the bathroom; grateful for the occasional piece of furniture which supported him as he passed.

After relieving himself, he turned to study his reflection in the mirror above the basin. No wonder Qui-Gon had seemed so alarmed, he looked worse than after his bout of Ganacien flu. His hair was dull and sticky with sweat, plastered to his head in places, jutting out at odd angles in others. His complexion was several shades paler than usual and had a decidedly unhealthy waxen sheen. His eyes were the worst - red from his prolonged crying jag and sunken in bruised shadows. He looked liked he'd been thumped by a Wookie. Leaning forward he examined what felt like a loose tooth - perhaps he had?

Filling the basin with cold water, he gritted his teeth before submerging his entire head in the bowl. After running his hands through his hair, he pulled back with a sharp gasp; jumping as the rivulets of cold water trickled down his neck. Reaching for a towel, he dragged it roughly over his face.

Pretty. He froze, his face still covered. Slowly, he lowered the towel and stared at himself in the mirror Very pretty He frowned as the words sounded familiar but he couldn't place them in context, nor did he recognize the voice. He struggled a moment to try to recall where he might have heard the phrase, and why it should have stayed with him. After a fruitless pause he decided to dismiss it as unimportant.

Shaking himself free of his introspection, he shrugged out of his tunic.

However, as he turned back to face the mirror, the memory continued to paw at him as though desperate to attract his attention. Absently, he drew his hands down his naked torso. Stroking them up, he brushed them over his nipples causing a tremor to pass through his frame

Pretty

As though a door was suddenly thrown open, the memories poured over Obi-Wan. With a hoarse cry he tried to push them away, but it was much too late. Freed now they fled back to him, flooding his mind with images - hands pawing at him, tugging off his clothes, and binding his wrists. Lifting him even as he struggled, his first sight of the bed and a sudden rush of sickened fear.

//Master!//

Chapter X

Qui-Gon had risen from the table before he even knew why. Then he sensed it; a wave of such mindless terror that he almost cried out from it's touch. He gathered himself together enough to give a muttered "Excuse me." Then, without waiting for a reply, he strode out of the Chamber leaving the members of the Chapter staring after him in bafflement.

Entering their quarters he moved at once to the bathroom, his Padawan's mental cries drawing him like a beacon. He found the youth huddled naked in a corner of the cold tiled floor. If he had thought Obi-Wan looked anguished before it little prepared him for how he looked now. The young man rocked himself slowly, silent tears pouring down his face. The eyes that slowly turned upon Qui-Gon projected such fear and self loathing that it hurt to meet their gaze.

Oh Obi-Wan Qui-Gon crouched down before his Padawan and simply held out his arms. After an agonizing pause Obi-Wan scrambled forward, burrowing into his Master's embrace.

Qui-Gon shuddered at the violence of the silent sobs which tore through his Padawan's frame. Obi-Wan's skin was cold and clammy; drawing open his robe he pulled the youth against his chest and folded it back around him. Rocking his Padawan gently, the Jedi Master battled with his own grief. He was alarmed by Obi-Wan's silence, the boy shook as though the force of holding back his cries was ripping him apart.

"It's alright Obi-Wan, I am here, it's alright, let it out." At these words Obi-Wan finally let go; he gave a wordless cry of pain, which then broke into noisy sobs.

It was some time before he had calmed sufficiently for Qui-Gon to attempt to move. Mindful of the cold floor and his Padawan's undressed state, the Jedi used the force to augment himself as he stood and carried Obi-Wan into the main room. Placing the youth on the couch, he removed his robe and wrapped it around him. Hurriedly, he gathered some extra blankets from the bedroom and added them to the robe. Then he sat down beside Obi-Wan.

"You know." Obi-Wan's voice was eerily calm after his hysteria; the tone flat and dulled.

"A little, not all." Obi-Wan's fragile control snapped as he thrust his hand to his mouth in an attempt to stifle the sob before it could escape.

"Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon's own voice was husky in his pain, he held the young man tightly as he cried. This time the weeping was less violent and gradually faded into soft hiccuping sobs. Qui-Gon gently loosened his embrace. With one hand he rubbed the youth's back, while with the other he reached for the glass of water. He held it as Obi-Wan took a few short sips. The young man pulled back as he attempted to speak.

"I am sorry Master, I am so sor..sorry." The last word broke on another soft sob.

Qui-Gon set the water down and, catching hold of Obi-Wan's chin, tilted the boy's face to his. "You have done nothing wrong Obi-Wan, nothing." He struggled to keep the anger out of his voice, frightened Obi-Wan would believe it directed toward him. "Heed my words, my Padawan, no guilt or shame lies upon your head for this, only with those who sought to do you harm."

"They put something in my drink."

"Tell me."

In a shaky voice Obi-Wan recounted what had happened up to Qui-Gon's discovery of him.

He was so overcome, he had found himself outside the Citadel before he came back to his senses. Afraid, but still too hurt and angry to go back, he wandered the streets until he entered a tavern. He purchased a drink, which was quite foul, and found himself regretting his foolishness. Realizing he was allowing his stubborn pride to lead him into possible danger, he decided to return to the Citadel. However, as he turned to leave someone grabbed his arm. Fighting down an instinct to draw his lightsaber, recognizing that to do so in a crowded hostile bar would be very unwise, he turned back to address the problem.

It seemed the owner of the hand was a regular who took it as a personal insult that Obi-Wan would choose to leave before finishing his drink. Deciding to try and avoid a confrontation he had apologized and picking up his drink made a valiant effort to down it in one swallow.

"It tasted even worse...I think....I think perhaps someone put something in it when my back was turned."

"And he made sure you went back and drank it." Qui-Gon nodded grimly, the scenario made sense. "What then, did he take you somewhere?"

"No..no I don't think I saw him again." Obi-Wan drew a deep breath before continuing. "I tried to leave then but as I made my way back I grew dizzy, someone....I think someone came across and guided me to a table."

"But not the same man as before?"

"No, they were smaller, slighter, more my age I think."

So as not to alarm him Qui-Gon thought in disgust.

"They asked if I was alright, I said I felt hot...I...I wanted some air, they said I could lie down in a back room, but I said no I had to go." Qui-Gon could sense Obi-Wan becoming more distressed as he remembered and he took hold of his Padawan's hand and squeezed it gently. Obi-Wan looked at him a little surprised and then gave a tremorous smile before squeezing it back. Taking comfort from his Master's closeness, Obi-Wan steadied himself and went on.

"He said he knew another way out, a back door...he pulled me up and put an arm around me. I think then he led me outside."

"You went outside?" Qui-Gon was surprised, but Obi-Wan seemed certain that he had been taken out a back way. Qui-Gon thought it through a moment; he supposed it made sense that the brothel owner wouldn't want to procure his victims too close to his own establishment.

Obi-Wan then confessed he remembered nothing of the next few moments. "I must have passed out, when I awoke....when I awoke..." His breathing became erratic as he struggled to find the words and deal with the emerging memories.

"Easy, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon reached out with the force and was filled with gratitude when the young man accepted it. It allowed Qui-Gon to embrace him through their link, offering both love and reassurance.

Some of the distress faded from Obi-Wan's eyes to be replaced by anger. "They took my clothes, my lightsaber, I tried to tell them to stop...to call for you, but I couldn't focus, everything kept slipping away from me....they carried me to a room, there was a bed...I knew then...I knew..."

"Ssh, enough Obi-Wan."

They sat together in silence for a moment, Qui-Gon continuing to offer comfort through the force. Obi-Wan was no longer shutting him out but actively reaching for him through their link. After a little while, however, it became clear that something else was troubling Obi-Wan.

"How did I get back to the Citadel, Master?"

"I brought you." Qui-Gon watched his Padawan closely to see how this news would affect him. He was saddened, but not surprised, to detect a resurgence of guilt from the young man. "Obi-Wan, you are my Padawan, it is my duty as a Master to protect you."

Obi-Wan nodded unhappily. "Yes, Master, I am sorry Master."

"Obi-Wan there is nothing to be sorry for. Even if my duty as your Master had not bound me to do so, I would still have searched for you."

Qui-Gon was aware he was skirting very close to the truth regarding his real feelings for his apprentice, but he was worried by Obi-Wan's increasing despondency. It had been too long since Obi-Wan had been anything like his normal self; lurching from anger to depression, now to bouts of hysteria. Qui-Gon was afraid that if he didn't break the cycle of guilt and misery that Obi-Wan was locked in soon that it would be too late.

However, he was also wary of approaching Obi-Wan while he was in this state. The young man was an emotional minefield; vulnerable and unstable. Qui-Gon had hoped to wait for a moment when his Padawan was more himself but, he knew now, if he continued to wait for such a moment it might never come. He would have to place his trust in the force, it had guided him this far; it seemed to have been struggling to bring them together, despite his reticence. Perhaps it was time to stop fighting .

"Obi-Wan..." He stopped, what could he say? Obi-Wan, I love you, I desire you Truthful words, but unwise.

As a Master, he was forbidden to initiate such intimacy with his Padawan. The first move towards such contact would have to come from the tearful, trembling young man by his side. Qui-Gon knew that Obi-Wan wanted him; a moments unguarded revelation through their link had made that blunt fact irrefutable. However, he had also felt that Obi-Wan was ashamed of his feelings; that was more troubling. It could simply be that Obi-Wan feared his disapproval or perhaps it was simply shame at a lack of control. At the onset of adolescence, Padawan's were instructed to channel their surging emotions into their training. The simple fact of the matter remained - he didn't know what his Padawan wanted from him.

He became aware that Obi-Wan was staring at him in confusion. Turning so that he faced his Padawan, he brought his hands up to gently cup the young man's face.

"Obi-Wan I have never, in all my time as your Master, spoken anything but the truth to you. Yet now you seem unable to accept my words as such." He brushed a thumb over the boy's lip when it seemed Obi-Wan would interrupt. "If you cannot believe my words, Padawan, then let the force guide you. Reach out and take the truth from me." He drew his thumb away and smiled a little sadly. "You must understand Obi-Wan, that not all truths can be spoken, some must be sought."

"Master I...never..I...," Obi-Wan's words tumbled over themselves in his desperation.

Qui-Gon shook his head and chided his Padawan gently. "The force Obi-Wan, use the force."

For a moment there was nothing; he struggled to remain still while he bared his emotions and his heart to his Padawan. He had never laid himself so open to another before, it was both exhilarating and terrifying. Then he felt it, the first tentative touch as his Padawan reached out with the force. As he felt the youth's cool, delicate manipulation of the force brush against him, Qui-Gon opened the link between them further than ever before, allowing the young man to probe more deeply. He fought against the almost overwhelming need to reach out for Obi-Wan; the younger man had to choose this for himself.

Suddenly Obi-Wan's eyes widened, and Qui-Gon felt a tremor of apprehension which faded as the youth's expression grew into one of wonderment not fear. Then he felt it, the change, as the force touch became an answering caress as Obi-Wan reached out for his Master's desire with his own. Qui-Gon released the breath he had not known he was holding and moved forward along their link to return the embrace.

Time held them suspended in that moment as the tendrils of the force wrapped around them, drawing them towards each other on a level both more primitive and more evolved than any other union. As always, it was the Padawan who grew impatient and sought to move forward from this initial contact. Qui-Gon watched as Obi-Wan's hand came up to caress his face. Before it touched him, it almost drew back and he was aware he made some small sound of protest.

Obi-Wan smiled, a smile of pure simple pleasure, and he brushed his fingers along the edge of Qui-Gon's beard. The youth's eyes followed the passage of his hand as he lovingly traced the features of his Master's face. Fluttering over his forehead, down his cheekbones, above his lip; the touch was both intimate and innocent, and almost unbearably erotic. When Obi-Wan brought his fingers down to stroke against Qui-Gon's mouth, his control broke and he reached up to capture them within his own.

"Obi-Wan..." It took all of his rapidly slipping control to speak. "Obi- Wan, is this what you want, you must not feel you need to..."

This time it was Obi-Wan who silenced him, bringing up his unrestrained hand to press against his Master's lips. The young man leaned towards him and his words were as soft as breath against his face. "Yes, Master."

Qui-Gon was unable to hold back the joy that suffused him at these words. It sang through the force until it seemed the very air around them hummed with it. His grin brought forth a giggle from Obi-Wan as the movement caused his beard to tickle the youth's hand. Heady with delight, Qui-Gon kissed the fingers playfully.

At his actions Obi-Wan fell abruptly silent. Qui-Gon drew back in concern, then stared as the younger man's eyes dilated with sudden passion. The heat of their desire rose up between them, and Qui-Gon was as helpless as his Padawan to resist it's needs.

Their eyes locked as they drew towards each other. Obi-Wan's tongue flickered out to wet his lips in an unconscious gesture that shattered the last of Qui-Gon's control. Reaching out, his fingers pressed against the nape of the young man's neck, he guided the youth's mouth to his.

As their lips met, Qui-Gon fought to bank down his desire. Even as his own needs threatened to consume him he was mindful that this was, in all probability, Obi-Wan's first kiss and as such he struggled against ravaging his Padawan's mouth.

Obi-Wan, however, had no such self-restraint. Frustrated by this initial chasteness and emboldened by his own burning need, he opened his lips against his Master's and tentatively stroked them with his tongue.

Under the provocation of that trembling heat, Qui-Gon's lips parted almost of their own volition, his tongue slipping forth to take it's own first, tentative taste.Fire..fire and innocence, the sweet sharp tang of Obi-Wan; and behind the innocence, an all consuming spiral of pure white incandescence. Suddenly it was all so clear, the truth of this one moment, his love for Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan's for him and the almost overwhelming rightness of it all.

The urgency of the kiss increased as the passion flared between them; tongues thrust against each other in timeless courtship. Obi-Wan's hands stretched out, blindly grabbing Qui-Gon's robe; strong fingers ran upwards to clasp the Jedi Master's shoulders, urging him closer. They fanned out, brushing against Qui-Gon's throat, sending a ripple of desire through his body. However, this new intimacy also brought a sense of awareness. Drawing deeply on the last reserves of his shattered self control, Qui-Gon broke the kiss; his hands circled Obi- Wan's wrists as he gently pulled the youth's hands away. Obi-Wan made a sound of distress and tried to push back.

"No...Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon's voice shook and he paused to draw breath and collect himself. As he did so he relished the sight of a deliciously rumpled Obi-Wan, hair ruffled in all directions, face flushed, bruised mouth slightly open, his breathing ragged. Faced with the sudden overwhelming desire to continue the kiss to it's inevitable conclusion, Qui-Gon closed his eyes.

"Master?" He opened them to find Obi-Wan staring at him, his eyes glittering with a heady mix of uncertainty and desire.

"Obi-Wan..." he was grateful that his voice sounded almost normal; he could still feel his blood hammering through his veins. "It is permitted for Jedi to seek release with one another." He watched as the youth's face flushed with something other than desire. "However if....if more is required we must first seek the blessing of the Council."

"More?" Obi-Wan looked bewildered.

Qui-Gon drew a sharp breath courage Qui-Gon and released the words in a rush. "Obi-Wan do you wish to Bond with me?"

Obi-Wan's reaction at any other time would have been amusing, as the youth's mouth opened and shut in a fruitless attempt to speak. Now, however, as he sat waiting for possible rejection Qui-Gon was only frustrated, and afraid. "Obi-Wan -"

"Yes, Master!"

Qui-Gon blinked. "What?" He felt a little dazed.

"Yes, Master, I wish to Bond with you!" It seemed Obi-Wan had found his voice.

However, despite the broad grin of sheer delight that lit his Padawan's face, Qui-Gon still wanted to be sure. A Bond between Jedi was as close a relation to the ceremony of marriage as the order possessed; it represented the deepest level of commitment, and was usually lifelong. "Are you certain Obi-Wan, do not feel that you have to do this -"

"Master," Obi-Wan cut in, "I have never been so certain of anything in my entire life!"

Qui-Gon had to smile at the fervency in his Padawan's tone. If there ever had been any real uncertainty, it faded to nothingness as he looked into Obi-Wan's eyes.

He had never before seen the young man look so alive - happiness and wonderment radiated from him, burning away the misery that had lingered there for so long. He was unable to hold back his own happiness, and for an instant they sat smiling foolishly at one another, basking in the sheer joy of the moment.

A moment that was broken by the chirp of the intercom. Still smiling, Qui-Gon released Obi-Wan's hands and moved over to the view panel. Schooling his features into a more appropriate expression he acknowledged the call and the screen filled with the concerned face of Menet Dulaan.

"Aah, Master Jinn, a thousand pardons for disturbing you, but I confess I was somewhat concerned. There is nothing seriously remiss I trust?"

"Menet Dulaan, it is I who ask your pardon. I...I was concerned for the well-being of my Padawan."

"He is not worse? Do you require the Healer?"

"No, no, in fact he is much better." Qui-Gon felt his happiness fade a little, he had sorely neglected his duties to his friend. "I am truly sorry to have left so abruptly, the talks -?"

"Ended very shortly after your departure," Menet Dulaan sighed. "Still it is not to be helped," he smiled wanly, but then more warmly as he added, "I am glad that young Padawan Kenobi is feeling better, perhaps we may see you both at the talks when they resume tomorrow?" There was no mistaking the hopeful plea in the Taogoan's voice.

"Of course, be assured we will both be there, and again I apologize for our lapse."

The transmission ended and Qui-Gon turned back to Obi-Wan with a sigh. The youth was watching him speculatively from the couch. Qui- Gon frowned realizing he had given his word that they would both attend tomorrow's talks without a thought to whether his Padawan would be able to do so.

"Forgive me, Obi-Wan, I accepted Menet Dulaan's request without due thought, if you do not feel well enough to attend tomorrow's talks -" He fell silent as Obi-Wan stood and crossed the room to him.

The boy looked tired, exhausted in fact, but there was no disguising his overall aura of happiness. "Master, I will do my duty as it is required of me." The words were formal, but the tone was gently teasing, and the eyes shone with mischief.

"Imp." Qui-Gon cuffed him playfully. Obi-Wan ducked to dodge the imaginary blow and swayed alarmingly instead. Qui-Gon caught him easily.

"Obi-Wan?" His concern didn't fade when the young man tried to smile reassuringly.

"I am fine, Master, a little dizzy that is all."

"You need to rest." Obi-Wan pulled a face, but Qui-Gon shook his head in mock severity. "Bed." He smiled a little. "For both of us I think, there is much work to be done tomorrow."

Obi-Wan sighed and nodded. "Yes, Master."

Qui-Gon guided his Padawan through to the bedroom. They stopped by the bed and Qui-Gon lowered the younger man on to it. As he did so, he became almost painfully aware that beneath the borrowed robe Obi-Wan was quite nude. Swallowing, he backed away. "Sleep, Obi- Wan."

"Master? " Obi-Wan looked up at him shyly. "Will you sleep with me?"

"Obi-Wan....I -" He broke off, uncertain what to say.

Obi-Wan looked alarmed. "I don't mean...I just -" The young man's eyes grew haunted and he dropped his head. "I understand Master, I know we must seek the Council's approval...I just... I didn't want to be alone."

Cursing himself in several languages, Qui-Gon reached out and laid his hand upon his Padawan's shoulder. "Forgive me, Obi-Wan." He smiled as the youth looked up at him hopefully. "Get into bed." He pulled back the blankets and motioned the young man to get in. "I will stay."

Obi-Wan gave him a shaky smile, his relief evident. Qui-Gon fixed his eyes on the ceiling as Obi-Wan shrugged off the robe. He caught only a brief glimpse of his Padawan's lithe figure as it slipped beneath the sheets, though it was more than enough to test his resolve. Counting backwards in Thracian he blew out the night light and laid down beside his Padawan......on top of the blankets.

"Master?"

"Sleep, Obi-Wan."

"Yes, Master."

He told himself that it wasn't possible to detect amused understanding in Obi-Wan's tone. Stretching out with the force, he wrapped it around his Padawan. He felt the young man stretch cat-like, give a soft sigh, and then succumb to the soothing suggestion of sleep.

Qui-Gon lay awake in the darkness, continuing to bless the fates that had returned Obi-Wan to him. He mused on the contradictory nature of his Padawan - a delightful mixture of respect and impudence, innocence and awareness; he could still feel the almost feral nature of the youth's desire . He marvelled at how the simple act of falling in love could totally alter one's perception of a person. Had he truly never before noticed the softness of the short hairs that prickled at the nape of Obi-Wan's neck, or how his eyes shifted from blue, to green, to grey with his moods, or even how wonderful he smelled! Like Menorian honey and Atarian spices - young, and fresh and hot. He almost laughed aloud at his own foolishness before darker thoughts took hold of him.

Obi-Wan seemed to have escaped his ordeal mercifully unharmed, but Qui-Gon had no doubt the situation would replay itself in nightmares, both waking and sleeping, for sometime to come. He would have to watch his Padawan closely, both as teacher... and lover...? That was where the deepest fear lay. He did not doubt the depth of his feelings for Obi-Wan, nor Obi-Wan's for him; the force had illuminated their passion with all the colors of a super nova, nothing could ever make him question it. .

However, would the Council see it the same way? And what would he do if they did not? Even with the force to assist him, it was sometime before Qui-Gon followed his Padawan into sleep.

Chapter XI

Enveloped in the force, and comforted by the presence of his Master, Obi-Wan spent a mercifully peaceful night. Perhaps, Qui-Gon mused sadly, the young man was just too exhausted to dream. Whatever the reason, he was thankful for it, as he lay watching the first rays of morning light steal through the shutters. Their soft dusty beams stretched out to caress his sleeping Padawan, bathing the youth's face in warm golden light; drawing out cheekbones, and shadowing the soft dimple of his chin.

Wondrously, Qui-Gon reached out and brushed his fingers over Obi- Wan's face, marvelling at the beauty of the young man. The youth murmured wordlessly and, to Qui-Gon's delight, moved into the caress; pushing up against the gentle, teasing touch. Slowly, his Padawan's eyes fluttered open and he found himself falling into orbs of crystal blue.

"Morning, Master." The sleep roughened voice of his Padawan awoke other parts of Qui-Gon's body, even as he smiled at the shy formality of the words.

"Qui-Gon," he corrected gently.

"Master?"

"In this I am not your Master, Obi-Wan, and you are not my Padawan." He smiled and stroked down the youth's neck, delighting in the satiny touch of his skin. "We are simply Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi- Wan Kenobi."

"Yes Mast- I mean Qui-Gon."

Hearing Obi-Wan speak his name for the first time sent another ripple of pleasure through Qui-Gon; he felt his loins tighten almost painfully, and decided to get up while he still possessed the ability to do so. Carefully rearranging the folds of his tunic he turned over onto his back. Sitting up, he glanced back down at his Padawan. "Remembe, Obi-Wan, only in this; in our duties and your lessons I am still your Master."

"Yes, Master." The furrowed brow which accompanied these words indicated that Obi-Wan wasn't completely certain which form of address he should have used.

Qui-Gon sighed inwardly. A Bond between Master and Padawan was the most difficult to achieve, and the most demanding to maintain. Did he know what he was doing? Did he really want this for them both? He looked down into Obi-Wan's beautiful face, the soft mouth shaped into an unconsciuosly sensuous smile. The blue eyes gazed back at him with rapt adoration, and behind that a hint of wilful playfulness. He felt his heart swell. For certain, this would be far from an easy path, but somehow he felt sure the rewards would be amply worth it.

Standing up, he gathered up his robe from the bottom of the bed and threw it over the youth's face.

"And now, Obi-wan, it is duty which calls us." He barely suppressed a smile as the young man burrowed out from beneath the robe to look up at Qui-Gon questioningly. He shook his head in mock admonishment. "The talks Obi-Wan, the talks, remember?"

He allowed himself a soft chuckle as his Padawan groaned and pulled the robe back up over his head. Reaching down, he yanked it back. "You have until I have finished washing, then you get up."

"Yes, Master."

Qui-Gon was more than happy to see Obi-Wan behaving more like the young man he knew - one who found talks and negotiations stiflingly dull. His smile faded as he entered the bathroom and cast his eyes down to the tunic which still lay where it had been discarded. He realized this apparent re-emergence of the 'old' Obi-Wan was a fragile veneer; beneath it, the young man still had unhealed scars. Picking up the tunic and laying it out to catch the warmth of the morning sun, he vowed to do all within his power to help him heal. He wanted his Obi- Wan back again, whole and well.

He worked out the kinks in tired muscles beneath the hot shower spray, then turned the water cooler and allowed it to dissipate the remains of his arousal. He found he was strangely reluctant to risk Obi-Wan seeing him unclothed. Dressing quickly he left the bathroom still toweling his hair; only to almost collide with Obi-Wan who sprinted past him with a muttered apology.

Qui-Gon was relieved that the youth had chosen to don the robe before leaving the bedroom. He had seen his Padawan naked on many occasions, and had even slept with him in such a state in the overheated bowels of ships and on hot, dry, dusty planets; but the thought of seeing him so now, presented itself as the sweetest form of torture. Still, he was amused, and oddly pleased, that Obi-Wan also now possessed the newfound shyness of a not-quite-lover.

While Obi-Wan showered Qui-Gon contacted a member of the household staff and instructed them to purchase a dark colored robe and some sturdy boots. He was grateful that the Taogoan displayed no curiousity at his request; this was someone used to simply carrying out orders without question.

Obi-Wan re-emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam dressed in his tunic, hair a profusion of little wet spikes. With a slightly abashed grin the young man handed Qui-Gon his robe and then joined him at the breakfast table. After some prompting, the youth enthusiastically tucked into the warm bread and fresh fruit. Pleased that at least his Padawan's appetite appeared unaffected, Qui-Gon continued to observed the youth unobtrusively as they ate.

Outwardly ObiWan looked much improved, if somewhat subdued. However when the door chimed the young man jumped up, noticeably alarmed. Concealing his own concern at the youth's reaction, Qui-Gon motioned the boy to continue eating. Obediently Obi-Wan sat back down and returned his attention to his breakfast, but as Qui-Gon crossed the room he could feel his Padawan's eyes follow him.

When he returned carrying a dark green robe and a robust pair of boots the startled look on the young man's face told him Obi-Wan had completely forgotten the loss of his own clothes.

"We must hurry Obi-Wan the Chapter will already be assembling."

Obi-Wan nodded wordlessly accepting the robe and boots; the former was a little long, as the Taogoan's were a tall race, but the boots fit well enough. Grabbing up one last piece of fruit, Obi-Wan hitched up his robe and followed his Master.

The sound of voices as they approached signified that most of the Chapter was already in attendance. Qui-Gon became aware that his Padawan's step was faltering slightly as they drew closer.

//It will be fine Obi-Wan// The young man gave a nervous smile and made an attempt to steady himself. They paused for a moment outside the entrance.

//Ready?//

//Yes, Master// Proud of his Padawan's resolve, Qui-Gon allowed it to show for a moment in his eyes, and was pleased when Obi-Wan seemed to muster further strength from his approval.

//Come, Obi-Wan// With his Padawan at his side, Qui-Gon Jinn entered the Chamber.

Chapter XII

It was much as Qui-Gon had expected. There were a few polite inquiries into Obi-Wan's state of health, most simply a show of good manners, though others were more heartfelt; then, everyone settled back into the business of the day. Obi-Wan fielded the questions with admirable diplomacy before taking his place, with obvious relief, beside Qui- Gon at the table.

Perhaps it was the air of contentment projected by the Jedi, or maybe it was simply that everyone was tired of the procrastinating. Whatever the reason, the talks flowed forward with a new momentum. For once, all the parties appeared to be in a conciliatory mood. Few insults were thrown, the protagonists restricting themselves to gentle barbs exchanged in the customary manner of acceptable banter.

When they finally broke for refreshments at midday, the good humor appeared to have no limits. No-one stalked off to their own suites; instead the participants milled about the adjoining hall, partaking of the delicacies provided. A few even exchanged pleasantries with one another, though most simply smiled and dipped their heads as they glided by.

Menet Dulaan sought out the Jedi, who stood a little to one side of the room, enjoying a few moments respite in the pleasure of each others company. "Wonderful, wonderful," the Minister enthused, waving his hands wildly as he addressed the Jedi. "I would never have dared believe after yesterday that things would go so well." Caught up in his own delight, he completely missed Obi-Wan's guilty twitch, but Qui-Gon caught it and reached out with the force to offer a gentle nudge of support.

Obi-Wan glanced back at him and smiled gratefully. Still oblivious to the silent exchange, the Minister pressed on. "In fact, I think we may be able to draw up the main points of our trade agreement before the day is over."

This time Menet Dulaan saw the look the Jedi exchanged, and he smiled. "I know you must be eager to return to Coruscant." There was that look again, he decided to tease them a little. "Of course, if you should wish to stay -"

"No!" Qui-Gon collected himself quickly. "That is, I hope you will understand our desire to return to our Temple at the earliest opportunity...." His voice tailed off a little and he looked to Obi-Wan for assistance. Obi-Wan shot him a brief glance of alarm, before turning his most gracious smile upon the Minister.

"We would, of course, be honored to continue to offer our assistance in any way we can Menet Dulaan." He ended his short speech with a slight dip of his head, just to show how honored they would be.

Menet Dulaan had no idea of the undercurrents beneath this strange display, but he took no small amount of pleasure in seeing his old friend so uncharacteristically flustered. He had been concerned to hear that Qui-Gon had been unwell, and then it seemed that his young companion was also stricken. Still, they both seemed quite well now, though perhaps the boy did look a little pale, and Qui-Gon somewhat drawn. He decided to take pity on them.

"I am sure if we can agree upon the principle points, we can settle the minor matters amongst ourselves. I will have your ship made ready. Perhaps you may even be able to leave this evening." He took one last moment to enjoy the twin looks of surprise, relief and delight that hurried across the Jedi's normally inscrutable features, before taking his leave.

"Master, do you really think that-" Whatever else Obi-Wan was going to say was lost as the ceremonial gong rang out to summon them back to the conference chamber. However, there was no mistaking the hopeful look he gave Qui-Gon as they took their seats.

The talks continued to go well late into the afternoon. When suddenly, they hit an impasse with neither side able to decide which planetary port should be used. Qui-Gon sensed his Padawan's growing frustration and threw the young man a look of caution. He was concerned that the fragile peace between the parties might falter if Obi-Wan spoke out of turn.

Tempers began to rise and it seemed certain that all the progress they had made would be lost. However, perhaps spurred on by his desire to return to Coruscant, it was Obi-Wan himself who provided the solution. The nearby satellite moon of Guskesh could serve as neutral territory; it had no port of sufficient size but there were several smaller ones that could be adapted to suit their purpose.

Qui-Gon found he was gripping the table top with one hand in tense anticipation, as his Padawan's suggestion was put forward to the parties concerned. For several agonizing moments there were muttered exchanges, frowns, and then finally nods of agreement from all around the table as all sides declared Guskesh's moon to be an acceptable choice.

Qui-Gon was unable to suppress the surge of pride he felt as the final details were added to the agreement and the party leaders came forward to sign the document.

When the Jedi stood and moved away a little, Qui-Gon drew his Padawan to him. "You did well, Obi-Wan." The young man managed to keep his face impassive but his eyes fairly danced under the praise.

"Thank you, Master."

"Perhaps, Obi-Wan, we may take our leave this evening after all." The quick grin he received in answer said that the young man hoped the same.

Even as Qui-Gon finished speaking, he saw Menet Dulaan step forward to address the assembly. The Minister thanked all the parties present for their patience and co-operation, and he extended particular gratitude to the Jedi for their wise counsel. Then, he officially announced the formal closure of the negotiations. As the room slowly emptied, Menet Dulaan approached the Jedi in person. He bowed low and made the Taogoan sign of supplication.

"Master Jinn, Padawan Kenobi, may I extend my own deep appreciation to you both."

Qui-Gon bowed his own head in acknowledgment and was pleased when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Obi-Wan do the same.

The Taogoan smiled. "I wish you both a safe and speedy journey home."

Chapter XIII

During the short period of time which passed between their taking leave of Taogoa and beginning the journey back home, Qui-Gon noticed a change come over Obi-Wan.

As he put the ship on auto-pilot and sat back a little, he stole a glance across at the young man. In the poor light of the cockpit Obi-Wan looked positively haggard. He'd lost ill-afforded weight which sharpened his cheekbones and made his eyes appear dramatically large. He had been growing steadily more withdrawn since they had boarded their ship and had barely spoken a word since they'd left the space dock.

Qui-Gon had almost broken the silence on several occasions, but unwillingly admitted to himself that he lacked the courage to question the boy. It was likely that Obi-Wan was simply exhausted, the events of the past few days finally over-taking him.

Perhaps, he was reflecting on his fortunate escape. However, Qui-Gon was also afraid the young man was having second thoughts. Not about loving him, but about making the Bond with him. He realized that avoiding the problem was only prolonging the pain. Quelling a flutter of panic he touched Obi-Wan's arm gently to draw the boy's attention.

Obi-Wan jumped a little, then relaxed and looked across somewhat sheepishly. "Sorry, Master."

"Obi-Wan, what is wrong?" The youth opened his mouth and Qui- Gon knew he was going to deny that anything was amiss.

//Obi-Wan?// The boy's face twisted a little in obvious unhappiness.

"Forgive me, Master, I am disturbing you."

The youth stumbled out of the co-pilot's seat and gave a brief awkward bow; his normal grace hampered by the close confines of the cockpit. "With your leave, Master?" He half-turned to go but Qui- Gon reached up and snagged his arm.

"Sit, Obi-Wan." A gentle command. The youth grimaced but obeyed without protest, sliding back into the seat, his eyes fixed on the stars. Qui-Gon softened his voice. "Obi-Wan, you must tell me what is troubling you." The young man responded by dropping his eyes to his lap, his fingers fiddling with the tunic's hem.

Qui-Gon took a deep breath as he forced himself to ask. "Do you regret agreeing to the Bond?"

"No!" Obi-Wan looked horrified. "No, Master I love -" Obi-Wan's voice broke off as he realized what he had been about to say. Qui-Gon felt his fears crumble and fall away at the words; though the young man looked aghast. He reached out with one hand and cupped the boy's face.

"You are in love with me Obi-Wan?" It wasn't really a question though he framed it as such.

"Yes, Master, I am sorry." Tears filled the boy's eyes.

Puzzled, Qui-Gon shook his head. "Only be sorry, Obi-Wan, if it is not what you want." He sighed at Obi-Wan's distress, his own voice thickening with emotion. "Obi-Wan, I love you." The young man's eyes widened in amazement. "I wish to Bond with you but only if that is also what you want -" He had barely finished speaking when Obi- Wan's arms came up to encircle his neck in an almost choking hold.

"I want it, Master, I want it! I love you too!" Obi-Wan appeared to be crying and laughing at the same time. Qui-Gon was utterly bewildered, but returned the slightly awkward embrace as best he could. Eventually, Obi-Wan calmed down and he pulled back, wiping his eyes on his sleeves. Qui-Gon tried to think what lay behind this outburst, other than Obi-Wan's current erratic state. He could only think of one possible reason - though it made little sense.

"Obi-Wan, you knew that I am in love with you?" This time he hoped that the question was rhetorical, but was forced to question this assumption when Obi-Wan faltered a little under his steady gaze. "You did know?!"

Obi-Wan's slightly embarrassed reply was muffled by the robe still dabbing at his face. "You never said, Master." The tone was slightly defensive, but Qui-Gon was too staggered by the revelation to really notice.

"Never said....?" He was stunned.

Obi-Wan hurried to explain. "I mean, I knew you did, or I thought you did, I felt it...when we...when I....but you never said!" This time Qui- Gon did hear the slightly sulky catch at the end.

"Forgive me, Obi-Wan." He drew Obi-Wan's tear stained face close and stared deeply into slightly watery blue eyes. "I l o v e y o u." He pronounced each letter, of each word clearly, without any trace of mockery. The deep sincerity of his emotion shining forth from his own eyes, he placed a soft kiss on the young man's brow. "Never doubt it, Obi-Wan." They stayed like that for a moment, each reading the truth from the other.

Then Obi-Wan sniffed loudly. Seeing the boy's embarrassment, Qui- Gon allowed him to pull away. "I don't think I have ever cried so much before in my life." The youth confessed.

"Emotions can be a little overwhelming," Qui-Gon admitted. Obi-Wan looked at him a little startled.

Qui-Gon responded to the question in his Padawan's eyes with a wry smile. "I am only a man, Obi-Wan, remember." Obi-Wan still looked surprised but nodded, apparently comforted by Qui-Gon's unspoken admission that this had all been difficult for him too.

"Now you should get some sleep." Obi-Wan started to protest but was silenced when he yawned instead. Qui-Gon favored him with a 'see what I mean' look, to which the young man responded with a slightly sheepish shrug as he stood and brushed past him to make his way back to the sleeping quarters. Qui-Gon found he was grateful that the cramped sleeping area on board made sleeping together not only impractical but impossible. Even worn, tired, and tear-stained his Padawan was a vision to sorely test his self-control .

Chapter XIV

As though seeking to confirm Qui-Gon's earlier fears, on this occasion Obi-Wan's sleep was far from peaceful. Even as Qui-Gon sensed the nightmare and made his way back through the ship to wake his Padawan, the youth shot upright with a shuddering gasp.

"Easy, Obi-Wan." He made no attempt to touch the boy, afraid of frightening him further.

Gradually, Obi-Wan relaxed and his breathing slowed a little. Once certain that his Padawan was aware of his surroundings, Qui-Gon put an arm around trembling shoulders. Obi-Wan leaned into the embrace, resting his head against his Master.

"Bad dreams?" Qui-Gon asked, even though he already knew the answer. Still panting a little, Obi-Wan nodded. Qui-Gon tightened his hold. "They will fade given time." Another wordless nod. "Shall I sit with you?" He was surprised, and a little hurt, when the young man shook his head.

"If I may, Master, I would like to sit up front with you for a little while?"

Qui-Gon smiled, relieved. "Of course, Obi-Wan."

So it was that Obi-Wan spent the remainder of their journey curled up in the co-pilot's seat; more often asleep than not, with Qui-Gon's robe wrapped tight around him as though it were a shield to ward off further bad dreams. Qui-Gon sat beside him; sometimes meditating lightly, at other times simply watching his Padawan sleep. An exercise in self control...yes indeed.

Once, he awoke from a light trance to find Obi-Wan watching him. The boy blushed at being caught and looked away; quickly pretending to find something interesting to stare at outside the ship. However, after a moment he glanced back. "Master, what will happen if the Council refuses to acknowledge our Bond?"

Qui-Gon hesitated before answering. "We must trust in the Force Obi- Wan."

Obi-Wan nodded but still looked unhappy. Qui-Gon sighed and reached over to squeeze his Padawan's arm in wordless reassurance. As Obi-Wan turned to him he added, "We will do what we must Obi- Wan." This time the boy smiled a little, and Qui-Gon couldn't help but reflect in bitter amusement that this time his Padawan would not object if he chose to go against the Council.

The truth was, however, Qui-Gon had been giving the matter a great deal of thought and was unsure what his course of action would be should such a situation arise. He had often voiced his opinions against the Council, and had occasionally side-stepped their wishes on minor issues; but he had never acted in direct contradiction to them on such weighty matters as this. In truth he was not sure he could.

Yet, would he survive without this? Would Obi-Wan?

Chapter XV

By the time their ship docked at Coruscant, Qui-Gon had almost managed to convince himself that the Council couldn't possibly deny a Bond so obviously Force guided. He tried to quell what fears remained. Pushing them to the back of his mind, he concentrated instead on the hedonistic pleasure of the hot bath he had promised himself as soon as they reached their quarters.

Obi-Wan had fallen silent again, but Qui-Gon felt it was due more to the fact that the youth was practically asleep on his feet than any new depression. He steered his weary Padawan with a guiding hand across the youth's slim shoulders, as they made their way together to the Jedi Temple.

What he was not expecting was Master Yoda, who stood waiting for them at the entrance.

The elderly Jedi stepped forward and circled them both, tutting softly. Finally, he stopped and smiled up at them.

"Hmm, tired you look yes, but better I think, heh." His smile grew wider as his eyes glittered with ancient mischief. Looking back at Obi-Wan, he made a show of critically examining the youth. "Yes, yes." He spun round with surprising agility and turned his gaze on Qui-Gon. "Better he is, fixed him you have, heh Master Jinn."

Qui-Gon would have almost sworn there was laughter behind the words, and he coughed a little before replying. "Yes, Master, he is much improved." Yoda nodded and looked back at the young man speculatively.

Qui-Gon took pity on Obi-Wan as the young man flushed, and struggled not to fidget under the ancient's knowing gaze. "With your leave, Master Yoda, we were just returning to our quarters, it has been a tiring journey -"

"Yes, tired, tired you must be, but first report to the Council you must."

"Now!?" Qui-Gon frowned sharply as his Padawan voiced aloud his dismay. The young man's flush deepened and he dropped his head.

Qui-Gon inclined his head respectfully to Master Yoda. "Of course, if that is what the Council wishes."

"It is, it is." The elderly Jedi began to move away. "Come, await you they do."

Suppressing a sigh, Qui-Gon turned to follow. Draping an arm around his Padawan's drooping shoulders, he smiled warmly at him to show he was not seriously displeased by Obi-Wan's outburst.

"Come, Obi-Wan, perhaps it is better that we deal with this now." The youth nodded unconvincingly and allowed himself to be led away.

The Council were all in attendance as Yoda had said. Qui-Gon hung back until the Master had taken his seat. Obi-Wan stood at his shoulder, the boy's eyes darting nervously between him and the other Jedi in the room. Qui-Gon waited until Master Yoda was settled and then stepped up to take the floor. At Master Windu's nod, he began.

The Jedi Council sat in silence as Qui-Gon recounted what had occurred during the talks and the important details of the Taogoan trade agreement. He made no mention of Obi-Wan's ill behavior or his venture outside the Citadel. Qui-Gon had already assured the youth that he would do what he could to downplay what had occurred.

However, he had been firm that Master Yoda and Master Windu would need to be made aware; but even then he promised he would do what he could to minimize the details. At length he finished his brief and fell silent, while the Council digested his news.

After a moment or two they all nodded., and Mace Windu addressed him. "You have done well Master Jinn, as has your Padawan." He gave a brief nod to Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon had made certain that the Council were aware that it was Obi-Wan who had provided the final solution to the trade negotiations. "I suggest that he has earned a short period of rest before you resume his lessons."

It was a dismissal, but Qui-Gon stood his ground. He felt Obi-Wan stiffen at his side.

"You have something you wish to add, Master Jinn?" Mace Windu inquired.

"Yes." Qui-Gon steadied himself beneath the Council's collective gaze.

Obi-Wan tensed as though poised to flee and Qui-Gon stepped back to take hold of the young man's hand, pulling him forward gently to stand beside him. "I respectfully ask that the Council acknowledge our Bond."

Qui-Gon was not too surprised that there was little noticeable reaction to his announcement; though Mace Windu steepled his fingers and exchanged a sharp glance with Master Yoda, who seemed amused.

"Ohh...request this you do, hmm?"

"Yes."

"And the boy?" This from Master Windu.

Qui-Gon looked across at Obi-Wan; the young man had never looked so cowed by the Council before, but then he was not usually the focus of their attention. He squeezed the boy's hand lightly. "Speak, Obi- wan, it is your right."

"Yes, speak, listen we will." Yoda leaned forward, fixing Obi-Wan with a stare centuries in the making.

Obi-Wan visibly wilted and stood as though transfixed.

//It will be alright, Obi-Wan, speak your heart.// There was a weighted pause before a familiar tenor rang out.

"Yes." Speaking seemed to fortify the young man's resolve and he tilted his chin up defiantly, though he kept his voice respectful. "Yes." He looked over to Qui-Gon, and his eyes glittered with determination. "That is what I want."

Yoda's eyes widened and his ears rose, he sat back chuckling softly. "Oh want it you do, yes." He shared a knowing look with Master Windu, who just looked pained. Then he turned to Qui-Gon.

"Your Padawan he is."

"That much is apparent," Mace Windu remarked dryly. Qui-Gon was torn between mortification and pride at the obvious suggestion that his Padawan was as outspoken and headstrong as he was himself.

Obi-Wan's blood was up however, and he now stood, staring down the Council with all the reckless courage of his youth. Another look passed between Yoda and Windu, this one unfathomable even to Qui- Gon.

"Very well." Master Windu nodded his tone brisk. "We will bear witness."

Qui-Gon felt a little of the tension leave him, and he gave a gratified nod to Windu as he gracefully knelt in supplication before the Council.

He was aware that Obi-Wan still stood, watching him with some confusion. Quickly Qui-Gon indicated with his eyes that the boy should follow his example and his Padawan dropped so quickly that he caught his robes under him and had to take a moment to untangle himself. Even given the seriousness of the moment Qui-Gon felt the corner of his mouth twitch as Mace Windu raised his eyes and Master Yoda looked on indulgently.

"Are you ready?" It seemed Windu was anxious to begin.

Qui-Gon took a deep breath and sat back, as relaxed as he could be under the circumstances. He heard a rustle that indicated Obi-Wan was still following his lead.

"Yes."

At first there was nothing, just empty silence; he centered on his breathing to calm himself and waited. Then he felt it, the strange sensation of old and powerful minds reaching out to him through the force. It was in no way painful, it was not even uncomfortable, just oddly intrusive; the alien touch of the unfamiliar. It was as though layers were being stripped away, as something probed him, reaching deep, deep inside to places even his Padawan had never touched.

He fought against the urge to pull away, to put up defenses. Even as he battled his own panic, he felt Obi-Wan's distress flare up through their link. Instinctively, he reached out with the Force to soothe the boy's fear.

//Relax Obi-Wan, don't fight it// He felt the youth struggle against a wave of terror and, not caring if it was forbidden, he reached out and took hold of the boy's hand entwining their fingers in an unbreakable weave. As he did so, he felt Obi-Wan relax a little.

Just as he feared the boy had reached his threshold, the collective touch withdrew, leaving him feeling oddly disorientated and bereft. He gently released Obi-Wan's hand and opened his eyes to meet the impassive gaze of the Council.

Master Yoda regarded the still kneeling Jedi gravely, his eyes narrowed as he spoke. "Strong your Bond is, force guided." He leaned forward. "See this we do, accept it we must." His tone lowered in warning. "Careful you must be." Then he and sat back and waved one small hand dismissively. "Go now."

Somewhat stunned, Qui-Gon didn't move immediately. But as realization set in he stood quickly, and bowed his head to the Council. "Thank you." They dipped their heads slightly in return. He was aware that Obi-Wan still knelt; the youth looked a little shocky, his eyes open but his expression even more bewildered than before.

"Come, Obi-Wan." Instinctively responding to the call of his Master's voice, the young man stood and, following Qui-Gon's example, gave a somewhat shaky bow to the Council before hurrying after his already departing Master.

Chapter XVI

Obi-Wan quickly fell into step beside Qui-Gon, but after a few paces his confusion got the better of him and he came to an abrupt halt. Qui- Gon walked ahead a little before stopping and turning back to his puzzled Padawan.

"Obi-Wan?" In his good humor, he was amused by the boy's baffled expression. "What is wrong Obi-Wan?"

"Master, I....I confess I don't understand...Master Yoda...the Council - ?"

"Have acknowledged our Bond." Qui-Gon smiled.

"Oh." The boy still looked bewildered.

Qui-Gon took pity on his Padawan, and leaned in close to whisper, "They have given their blessing for us to continue." Then he turned on his heel and walked away.

There was silence behind him, and then another- "Oh!" This time with a wealth of understanding in the exclamation. Qui-Gon smiled and glanced back in time to see Obi-Wan's dazed features break into a broad grin before he hurried to catch up to him.

They walked the rest of the way in a companionable silence; however, as they entered their shared rooms it grew steadily more uncomfortable. As Obi-Wan stood by a little awkwardly, Qui-Gon decided his earlier plan for a long hot soak might prove to be a useful diversion. "I think Obi-Wan I will take a bath."

His Padawan looked suitably stunned by his statement. "A bath?!"

Qui-Gon continued to move casually around their quarters, pausing before his chair to remove his robe and lightsaber, then sitting to remove his boots.

"Yes, Obi-Wan a bath." He looked up at the boy, who still hadn't moved, and arched his eyebrows in a familiar Well, what are you waiting for Obi-Wan expression.

"Ah..er...that is yes, Master, at once." Qui-Gon dropped his head so that Obi-Wan wouldn't see his smile, as the young Padawan hurried off to do his bidding.

The bath in question was a gift from an old friend; it was a huge wooden tub, easily big enough for three men to sit in comfort. It almost completely filled the alcove in which it stood. It also took some considerable time and effort to fill. Obi-Wan dutifully wandered back and forth with buckets of steaming hot water. It was a task the youth had performed many times - though he seemed a little perplexed by it now.

Qui-Gon felt a little guilty at making the young man work so hard, but he told himself he would make it up to the boy later. Besides which, it was serving it's intended purpose.

Obi-Wan's mind was clearly no longer dwelling on immediate concerns, and the awkward atmosphere that had been developing was gone.

Finally, Obi-Wan came back into the main chamber, where he stood looking somewhat hot and flustered from his exertions. "It is ready Master."

Qui-Gon had draped his robe around him whilst he sat waiting; now he stood and let it slide off his shoulders. Naked, he could feel Obi-Wan's eyes follow him as he crossed the room. Through their open link a sudden rush of longing sharpened the edge of his own arousal.

Forcefully, he pushed it back. Climbing the step to the tub, he eased himself into the water with a gratified sigh. There was a seat of sorts running round the outer edge and he sank back down on to it; closing his eyes he took a moment to enjoy the pleasant feel of the water lapping at his chest. He could sense Obi-Wan hovering beside the tub; normally the boy would have asked to join him. He was about to call the youth over to him when Obi-Wan spoke.

"Should I...would you like me to wash your hair for you, Master?"

Qui-Gon smiled and kept his eyes closed. "Thank you, Obi-Wan, I would like that." Please Obi-wan. He listened while the boy browsed through the small selection of bottles on the shelf, when he thought he'd selected one he opened his eyes. Obi-Wan was standing pushing up his sleeves; when one refused to stay up he began to roll them instead.

"Perhaps, Obi-Wan, it would be better for you to remove it ?"

"What -?"

"Your tunic." Obi-Wan blushed but did as Qui-Gon had suggested. First shucking off his top, then after a moments pause he sat down and unlaced his boots as well, laying them carefully to one side. Qui-Gon closed his eyes again and let his head loll back against the rim of the tub. He felt Obi-Wan approach the tub and hesitate. Then, balancing on the step, he leaned over and began.

Qui-Gon had always enjoyed the sensation of his Padawan's strong, nimble fingers teasing out the day's knots and tangles. Usually it helped to relax him, but now he felt it arousing him instead. When the boy stopped, he ducked his head to rinse away the lather a little, then sat back and allowed Obi-Wan to pour a jug of fresh water over him. As he wiped the water from his eyes with the wash cloth, he addressed the boy without turning around.

"Will you join me, Obi-Wan?" He kept his voice purposefully casual.

"Master -?!" Obi-Wan's reply came out as a less than dignified squeak.

"Qui-Gon." He looked over his shoulder, where his Padawan stood staring at him blankly. "For the moment I am just Qui-Gon, not your Master, Obi-Wan." He smiled at Obi-Wan's silent oh of comprehension; as the youth realized that what he had been waiting for with nervous excitement, had in fact already begun.

"Well, Obi-Wan?" He arched one eyebrow inquiringly. The young man swallowed nervously and nimbly leapt down off the step.

"Yes, Qui-Gon." He watched the boy through half closed lids, as with trembling fingers the youth undid the tie at his waist. When Obi-Wan then hesitated, Qui-Gon made a show of shutting them completely, turning away a little as he did so. He didn't open them again until he felt the swell of the water against his chest as Obi-Wan slipped in beside him.

What he saw made him suppress a smile. The young man sat, pressed up as far against the wall of the bath as physically possible; arms and legs held rigid by his sides.

"Relax, Obi-Wan."

"Yes, Mas- Qui-Gon." Qui-Gon smiled at his Padawan, who ducked his head and smiled shyly back.

Gradually the water worked it's 'magic' and Obi-Wan began to relax. The boy's limbs floated outwards, his head falling back to rest on the rim of the tub.

Qui-Gon waited until the young man was almost asleep, one leg brushing up against his own. "Obi-Wan?"

"Hmmph?" the boy opened his eyes sleepily.

Qui-Gon sat forward and beckoned the boy. "Come over here, Obi- Wan, and I will wash your hair for you."

Obi-Wan's eyes shot open as Qui-Gon's words penetrated through his sleep addled haze. However, he looked pleased, if a little nervous, at the suggestion, and turning himself, he slowly presented his back to Qui-Gon.

Careful not to draw the boy too close and spook him, Qui-Gon gently steered Obi-Wan into position. Reaching over the edge of the bath, he retrieved the little bottle of liquid soap from the step where Obi-Wan had left it.

Keeping his touch deliberately impersonal he began to briskly rub it into the boy's hair; short and practical it took little washing. Wanting to prolong the flesh to flesh contact Qui-Gon lowered his hands; using the soap as a lubricant he kneaded the youth's neck and shoulders. At first Obi-Wan winced and squirmed in silent protest; then as stiff, sore muscles gave way under the pressure, the boy made soft contented noises and shifted back a little.

Qui-Gon drew in a sharp breath as Obi-Wan's naked back brushed up against him. Leaning forward, he placed a soft kiss at the side of the young man's throat. With a sigh, Obi-Wan let his head fall backwards to allow him better access. Qui-Gon tenderly traced the exposed flesh with his tongue, pausing at one particularly pleasing spot to nip it gently with his teeth. The youth groaned and twisted round to meet Qui-Gon's lips with his own ardent reply.

For a moment Qui-Gon was lost, the world outside faded to nothingness; there was only the sweet taste of Obi-Wan, the touch of hot slippery skin, and the sound of his own heart pounding. He tried to reach for the boy to draw him closer but the soapy water frustrated his attempts, until with a growl he pulled away. Obi-Wan tried to follow but Qui-Gon managed to grab his hands and push him gently back. Eyes glittering with desperate need, Obi-Wan beseeched him silently. '"Bedroom." Qui-Gon was beyond elaborate explanations, but they proved unnecessary; as he stepped out of the bath Obi-Wan simply followed.

Chapter XVII

Qui-Gon made no attempt to hide his obvious arousal and he heard Obi-Wan's sharp intake of breath as he turned to take the boy's hand. He made a point of reaching for the one which fluttered over the youth's own erection. The boy hesitated and then held the hand out, holding himself open beneath Qui-Gon's prospective gaze. Qui-Gon let his eyes rake slowly over Obi-Wan's body. The image before him could have stepped forth from a dream; perfectly proportioned, a slender golden youth. Not overly muscular, more lithe, but beautifully defined - the chest rising and falling with each sharply drawn breath. The boy's erection stood proud from his body, solid proof of his own need.

Silently, Qui-Gon turned and led Obi-Wan through to the bed chamber. He stopped beside the bed and twisted back around to face the boy. He stood close enough to feel the heat rising from the young man's body.

Holding the youth fast with his eyes, Qui-Gon reached out and gently took hold of the slender Padawan braid. Wrapping it carefully around his fingers he tugged on it lightly, never once taking his eyes from the boy's. As though in a trance Obi-Wan stumbled forward; Qui-Gon released the braid and moved his fingers up through Obi-Wan's hair. Bringing up his other hand, he caressed the young man's cheek. Obi- Wan's eyes half closed in pleasure and he rubbed against the touch like a cat. That was all it took

Qui-Gon pulled Obi-Wan sharp against him, skin to skin. Youthful eagerness responded, as the boy gave himself totally to the urgency of Qui-Gon's kiss. He drew them backwards down on to the bed, until they lay side by side, still locked together; as with hot touches they sought out the familiar planes of each other bodies with all the eager delight of new lovers.

Qui-Gon groaned as Obi-Wan rubbed himself against the larger man; until finally, faced with the prospect of losing all control, Qui-Gon was forced to use his greater size to flip the youth on to his back and pin him to the bed. He had no concern that Obi-Wan would be afraid, he could feel the boy's passionate delight bubbling up through their link.

//Imp// Obi-Wan looked up at him flushed and happy. Qui-Gon shook his head in mock severity. The boy grinned wickedly and then feigned defeat, lying compliant and still. When Qui-Gon made as if to release his hold, the boy bucked upwards to try and wiggle free. //Oh no you don't!// It was Qui-Gon's turn to smile deviously as, after a brief and enjoyable tussle, he succeeded in securing the youth with one hand, leaving the other free to explore.

He stroked his hand down the smooth skin of Obi-Wan's chest. Small pink nipples tightened and pebbled beneath his touch. Fascinated, he watched as a mottled rosy stain spread out across the youth's flesh. His reverie was broken by a soft whimper which drew his gaze back up to Obi-Wan's face. The young man was panting harshly as his eyes pleaded wordlessly for something more; unable in his innocence to give voice to his body's demands.

Qui-Gon quickly released the youth's hands, though the boy made no attempt to lower them. Slowly, he moved down the young man's body until level with one turgid nipple. Obi-Wan watched him wide-eyed. He kept his own gaze fixed upwards even as he dipped his head, until at the last moment he broke the connection and drew the nipple into his mouth. The effect on Obi-Wan was startling to say the least; the boy let out a strangled groan and thrust upwards so sharply he almost bucked Qui-Gon off the bed. Qui-Gon regained his balance with ease, never once releasing the nipple from his mouth; he sucked on it demandingly, then swirled his tongue around the nub, gently lathing it with broad strokes before releasing it with one last playful nip.

Obi-Wan relaxed back against the bed but before he could recover his breath Qui-Gon turned his attention to the other nipple; repeating the performance he had afforded the first with the same dedicated attention to detail that he applied to the young man's other lessons. After that, Qui-Gon paid dutiful homage to the rest of his Padawan's body stroking, licking, sucking and nibbling until Obi-Wan lay quivering from his administrations. With considerable strength of will, Qui-Gon succeeded in avoiding touching the boy's straining erection; sensing that to do so would break Obi-Wan's fragile self control.

Qui-Gon's own self-control was rapidly reaching it's furthest limits; but concern for Obi-Wan made him hesitate. He was fearful of doing anything that might alarm the boy.

//Obi-Wan?// He waited until Obi-Wan's eyes were drawn to him before he continued. //Obi-Wan, you must tell me what you want//. He waited anxiously. For a moment it seemed he had spun his sexual web too skillfully, as Obi-Wan just stared up at him hazily.

//You....want you// Qui-Gon was half afraid to understand

//What?// Obi-Wan licked his lips.

"You...I want you in me." The words were faint and breathy, the boy flushed as he spoke them, but there was no mistaking their meaning.

Since Obi-Wan had asked aloud Qui-Gon responded in kind, his own voice ragged with his need for release. "Are you sure, Obi-Wan?"

The youth nodded, now beyond words. Qui-Gon reached out through their link searching for any fear or reluctance, but he found only some small trepidation and anxiety. More prevalent was a definite spike of excitement and something which he could only identify as pure naked need.

Leaning forward he kissed Obi-Wan, telling him without words just how deeply he was loved, and how highly Qui-Gon held this most precious of gifts. Gently turning the boy over to lie on his stomach, Qui-Gon placed a pillow under the youth's thighs; bending one leg at the knee and drawing it up a little. With shaking hands, he reached up to the alcove shelf above the bed and selected the unscented massage oil. Uncorking the bottle, he poured a little into the palm of his hand.

Setting the bottle aside, he reached down and stroked his hand over the boy's back, tracing lean muscles with long skillful fingers. After a while, as Obi-Wan's breathing deepened and Qui-Gon felt the youth relax, he allowed his touch to become more intimate; his fingers sweeping over the young man's buttocks in firm gentle arcs. He allowed the young man to become familiar with the touch before allowing one oil-slicked finger to trail between them.

Obi-Wan jumped a little but Qui-Gon still detected no real alarm. He let his caresses drift away again, spending a little time kneading the boy's shoulders and then running his fingers up and down his spine. He poured a little of the oil directly on to the hollow of Obi-Wan's back; the youth started at the sudden coolness, but relaxed again as it flared into heat beneath Qui-Gon's sure touch.

Qui-Gon dipped his finger back into the crevice between Obi-Wan's buttocks. When the young man didn't flinch away, he stroked it down to brush against the perineum; and then still further to touch the youth's scrotum with the lightest of caresses, feeling it tighten and lift beneath his touch. Obi-Wan whimpered and spread his legs in an unconscious desire to increase the contact. Instead Qui-Gon moved his hand away letting it drift downwards, trailing along the insides of the youth's thighs. Obi-Wan made an audible sound of protest and tried to slide down the bed to draw Qui-Gon's touch back up.

Qui-Gon brushed the backs of the young man's knees and only then allowed his hand to glide slowly back up Obi-Wan's body. This time, he slid his hand fully under as Obi-Wan lifted himself up off the bed a little.

Qui-Gon felt his mouth go dry at his Padawan's unwitting wantonness. Unable to stop himself, he leaned forward and gently nipped the fleshy part of one firm buttock; delighting in the moan of pleasure it produced.

At the same time, he trailed a finger up the youth's erection, tracing the pulse, and spreading the pre-cum around the tip. He stopped when he felt Obi-Wan stiffen, understanding why.

//Not yet Obi-Wan, not yet// Obi-Wan whimpered in protest at the order, but Qui-Gon felt the young man gather himself and drive back the imminent need for release.

Picking up the oil again, Qui-Gon poured a little between the youth's buttocks; Obi-Wan wiggled a little and then settled. Gently, Qui-Gon brushed a finger over the opening to his Padawan's body. He felt Obi- Wan stiffen at the unusual sensation and then relax in the next breath.

Collecting a little pool of the oil and using it to lubricate his forefinger a little more fully, he slowly eased it into the young man's body. Stopping every time the youth tensed, pressing in a little further when grew accustomed to the intrusion and relaxed.

Qui-Gon paused when it was in up to the second knuckle to give them both chance to draw breath. He carefully reached out through their link, his instincts told him Obi-Wan wasn't fighting this at all but he was desperate to be sure. He was both relieved and pleased to feel only a strong sense of desire and determination.

Reassured that Obi-Wan wanted this as much as he did, Qui-Gon pushed in a little deeper, twisting his finger slightly as he did so. This drew a startled gasp and he stopped at once. Obi-Wan seemed to be holding his breath. After an agonizing moment, Qui-Gon was almost ready to pull out when the youth moved impaling himself up to the third knuckle.

It was Qui-Gon's turn to gasp. He forced himself to wait until Obi- Wan relaxed again, then he moved his finger slightly, gently feeling around for a little nub; when he found it he brushed over it lightly. Obi-Wan gave a surprised cry and bucked upwards. Qui-Gon swayed a little as he felt the intensity of the youth's pleasure spiral out towards him. He touched it again with the same response, and then withdrew.

Quickly applying more oil he re-entered, finding his progress much easier than before. Encouraged, he added a second finger, still moving slowly to give Obi-Wan time to re-adjust. Once he felt the young man had accepted this slightly wider intrusion, he applied a gentle scissoring motion which practically lifted Obi-Wan off the bed.

Qui-Gon decided if he didn't move forward more quickly it would soon be over for both of them. Witnessing his Padawan's uninhibited pleasure had made him almost painfully hard. Withdrawing his fingers, he poured the remainder of the oil over his erection, biting his lip and willing himself sufficient control; he wanted more than anything to make this pleasurable for the young man.

//Ready my love?//

//Master...Qui-Gon?...oh?...yess// was the dazed reply.

Steadying himself, Qui-Gon positioned himself at Obi-Wan's opening. Guiding himself with one hand, he used the other to gently, but firmly grip Obi-Wan's thigh; both to support himself and to hold the young man still. He felt a flicker of pain through their link and he felt torn, knowing that this first time some discomfort was unavoidable. He used the link to reach out to the boy, offering wordless encouragement; Obi-Wan reached back to him, strengthening the bond between them.

Obi-Wan;s breathing quickened, as he obviously struggled not to pull away. Ignoring his own physical discomfort Qui-Gon froze, determined to end this before causing Obi-Wan any distress. Then Obi-Wan relaxed minutely and, as before, he tried to push back a little. For a brief moment they hung suspended as the young man's body fought against the intrusion, then Qui-Gon felt something ease and he was able to slip past the tight ring of muscle.

With just the head inside, Qui-Gon stopped again; this time they were both breathing heavily as they each adjusted to the strangeness of this new connection. Then Qui-Gon pushed in a little further. Obi-Wan moaned a little but rose back to meet him. Still Qui-Gon detected no fear just a raw, primitive need.

When he had as much inside as he felt Obi-Wan was able to take this first time, Qui-Gon slid his hand around to grasp the young man's erection which had faded slightly as he entered him. The youth hissed at the contact and arched back against him. Qui-Gon bit his lip and groaned as Obi-Wan's response drove him further into the tight, hot channel.

For a moment they both held still again. Then Qui-Gon began to move his oil-slicked fingers along Obi-Wan's length, feeling it grow hard and heavy in his hand. Slowly the boy began to rock back and forth into his grip. The action further impaled the youth on to Qui-Gon's aching erection, and he had to fight not to answer the boy's thrusts with his own.

Finally he could bear it no longer; cautiously he pushed forward a little with Obi-Wan's next thrust. When the result was a ragged moan of pure pleasure he increased the tempo a little, still continuing to pump the Obi-Wan's erection with his hand. The boy's head fell back, his mouth open as he struggled to draw breath through his mounting excitement. The young man's hands reached out and grasped the sheets, clawing at them wildly as he writhed up against Qui-Gon's thrusts.

Suddenly the younger man stiffened and, with a sharp cry, he came; his seed spilling hot and full over Qui-Gon's hand. He continued to milk Obi-Wan gently, even as the young man's muscles clenched around him and pulled him over the edge into his own powerful release. Spots of colored light danced behind his eyes, and he collapsed senselessly against the youth's back.

Slowly the world spun back into place and he withdrew carefully, provoking a soft murmur of protest from Obi-Wan who still lay face down amongst the pillows. Anxiously he turned the boy over, concerned to see with his own eyes that the youth was unharmed by the intensity of their joining.

Obi-Wan sprawled over bonelessly, a beatific smile on his face. Lips swollen, hair mussed, his skin coated in a fine sheen of sweat, he practically glowed in a postcoital daze. Still, Qui-Gon felt he had to ask.

"Are you alright, Obi-Wan my love?"

If possible, Obi-Wan's smile widened still further. "Wonderful, Master."

Qui-Gon grinned, too happy in that moment even to think to correct the inappropriate use of his title. He placed a soft kiss at the corner of the boy's brow, and then another against his too tempting mouth. "Sleep now, Obi-Wan."

"Mmm yes Master." Obi-Wan snuggled closer. Qui-Gon reached down and snagged the corner of one sheet, untangling it a little he drew it up over them. Holding his lover safe in his arms and trusting in the Force to watch over them both, he followed his Padawan into sleep.

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