DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc and 20th Century Fox. The character of Ardeth Fey is from the movie "The Mummy" which belongs to Universal Pictures. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.
The chrono chimes notifying you of evening's approach. You've been home for an hour sitting quietly on the living room sofa listening to Ardeth take his embarassment and frustration out on you. He paces furiously in front of you possibly wearing a groove in the carpet.
"Don't you think you've said enough," Qui warns noticing your growing stress under Ardeth's tirade.
You have no idea what you've done except be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
"Spare me Qui-Gon. Your constant indulgence in her petty notions have caused us no end of trouble."
//What?!!// Anger whips through you. You stand.
"Chana sit." Qui commands, "I'll deal with this."
You can't believe your ears. When did you become chattel?
"You are not the only one embarrassed by this," The master admonishes, "taking it out on her will not erase the past. I suggest we forget about it and move on."
"Move on?" Ardeth hisses, "Move on? Because she agreed to this, my family has been dishonored in front of the entire community!"
"We will survive this." Qui says with closed eyes. No one pushes his buttons faster than Ardeth, "Your status in the community has not diminished."
"I am speaking of my parents. They have--"
"Your parents?" Qui growls
"Yes my parents!"
"WE ARE YOUR FAMILY NOW!" The Master reproaches the Knight, "The sooner you realize this, the sooner WE can move forward."
Qui-Gon storms out the room. Ardeth stares out the window shaking his head. Your anger has subsided some but still you're offended. To be blamed for the entire affair is hardly justified. You stand determined to clear up some things.
"CHANA!" Ardeth snaps not looking at you, "I don't want to talk right now."
"Why not? I had to listen to you? What about me?!"
"What about you?" He faces you with a harsh expression.
Undaunted, you confront him, "Fuck you Ardeth. Fuck you! I refuse!" You throw a lamp against the wall, "Refuse to be treated like a damn piece of property! I have done nothing wrong except stand here and be supportive. And what do I get? Blame for this entire mess in which we were all players. Perhaps your father was right, you should have bonded with a village girl."
"Maybe." He turns to the window.
"I'm staying on base tonight." You snarl and hastily enter your shared room and begin packing. Most of your gear is neatly stowed away in the closet.
Qui-Gon enters loosening his tunic and sash. He methodically undresses as if the day's events were an unpleasant memory.
"Where are you going?" He asks off-hand.
"To the base."
Qui stops, "Oh no you don't. I will not let you leave at the first sign of trouble. No." He shakes his head and continues undressing.
"Ardeth is really upset right now and I can't be around him." You force your duffle bag closed.
"What about me?" Blue eyes study you with concern, "You leave him, you leave me. Have you considered that?"
He's right as usual. His hurt is obvious. You see it on his face and feel it through your bond.
Suddenly drained, Qui avails himself of his boots. They thonk landing at your feet.
"You going to bed?" You ask, the wind suddenly taken out of your sails.
"No." He says quietly sliding his leggings over his narrow hips, "I'm going to take a shower. I'm covered in sand." Qui-Gon sighs once again fighting his anguish. He does not like to argue. "I suppose I'll never get use to it."
"May I join you?" You ask softly.
Qui's lips curl upward. "Please do."
Both your bodies are slick with soapy residue. Warm water cascades around you as the master presses your back against the wet tiles. Your legs enshroud his waist, his arms support your torso.
He leans forward. Lips skirt lips. The Master's embrace is strong and comforting. In it you both find security, comfort and understanding. You can stay like this forever.
"Our children will know some of my culture, things I have learned from my parents," You stroke Jinn's wet chestnut mane, "what of yours?"
He shakes his head, "What do you mean?"
You gesture around you, "We know they will be exposed to Ardeth's. His culture surrounds us but what would you like to give them?"
Qui-Gon turns off the water and releases you. His beautiful face takes on it's typically stern countenance when encountering a tough issue.
"I've considered this for some time. And there is a chance we will not rear our children," Qui-Gon's deeply timbred voice reverberates off the tiles. "If they are chosen, will you agree to their training? We must be at one in our decision."
You nod knowing it would be unfair otherwise. The Force is a gift. A powerful one. It surrounds and flows through all living beings sometimes controlling their actions and other times allowing itself to be controlled. Either way you would not rob your child of his or her birthright-- to follow in the way of its father.
"Yes. I will."
"Then that's what I give them. A chance to be a Jedi Knight."
You clasp his hand and kiss his palm. Moisture lingers on its surface.
"And if they are not chosen?" You ask quietly. He has never spoken of his family, his past.
"Chana," He says with quiet resignation, "I know no other life."