Lucifer: The Tapestry

by Glimmer Girl ([email protected])

Title: Lucifer: The Tapestry
Author: Glimmer Girl ([email protected])
Rating: R
Pariring: Obi-Wan/Xanantos
Category: Hurt/Comfort, A/U
Archive: M_A, OKEB, TBC, XaniEB; anywhere else, sure, just send me an email;
Homepage: http://glimfics.homestead.com/index.html
Feedback: yes, please! on- or off-list, even by owl ...
Spoilers: yes, for TPM
Warnings: *SLASH* (just in case its not your bag, baby!) Features a redeemed Xanatos and is my first honest-to-goodness attemptat a 'real' fan fic, part of the (very much in development) 'Lucifer' A/U; so caveat lector! This isn't getting into your Norton Anthology anytime soon!
Special thanks to: My beta reader, Melissa, wonderful work as usual! My padawan partners in crime and my friend Jen, who all deserve more than a stinky little dedication. Multas gratias!

Summary: The Dark and Light form a pattern in the soul, weaving the story of our lives.

Disclaimer: All SW characters belong to George Lucas, with the exception of Xanatos, who belongs to Jude Watson and Dave Wolverton.Cheers!

The Jedi temple at night is quiet, but not the quiet that non-Force sensitives are used to. The Force constantly thrums in the background of your senses, a reassuring hum, a comforting whisper. The Temple is of the Light and the warmth, a refuge from the Dark and cold. Tonight there is much that is dark and cold on Coruscant as winds rip through the icy rain like so many sharp knives.

My lover walks the path of grayness; he is neither of the Dark nor the Light, even if he is of the Force just as much as I or my padawan. He's touched the Dark and the Light and has returned to the Light as much as he could. He will come home tonight to the Temple, for the Jedi have let him come back and let him help in the quest against the Dark. My padawan, he is not here with me tonight, I've sent him to a fellow master and padawan's quarters. Anakin seemed excited, glad to experience something different I suppose.

I can sense my Xanatos as he approaches and leaves the cold and dark of Coruscant's lower levels behind. Our bed is empty without him; the only time I've slept in this bed alone was after our master died. Our master. For the longest time Qui-Gon was the only link between us, how different it is now. The connection is strong for us; I can feel the cold in his bones as he walks the Temple corridors, the sense of illness growing as he comes nearer. He is ill, he will not tell me, and maybe he thinks he doesn't have to. Xan, he's too stubborn to let me love him as much as I want to. He's in our chambers now; he walks softly and doesn't turn on the lights. As he walks into our room he coughs softly and his slim frame shudders slightly.

The stormy night allows no moonlight to pervade, but even in the dark I can perceive the contrast of light and dark that is ever Xanatos. His hair, a black that is almost tinged with blue, tumbles into his eyes as he sneezes wetly into his hand a few times. The action is not loud, but forceful, and he bends at the waist after the first sneeze and remains that way until the fit passes.

Straightening up and sniffling strongly he peels off his trim black tunics. Pushing the hair out of his face he stops, wipes his nose on the back of his hand and sniffles. A cold in his head will not be an easy thing to keep from me. Bare-chested he pulls off his boots; his skin is pearl white and smooth, broken only by the fine line of dark hair that runs from his belly to his groin. Slipping out of the black leggings, standing nude, slim, and elegant he appears delicate. Such strength, however, he possesses, strength that could make you fear his delicate beauty. Silently he approaches our bed, leans over and kisses me on the temple before joining me.

The bed dips and in a moment he lies down next to me, leaning on his side, propped up on one elbow. As he wipes his nose on a tissue a hoarse cough rattles in his throat and he turns his body away. The obvious discomfort he feels touches me, with a comforting gesture I reach over to rub the smooth skin on his thigh and rest my hand there.

Breathing raggedly he turns back and simply looks at me, one hand approaches my face to trace a line from my temple to my jawline. Sapphire eyes catch mine as he realizes for the first time that I am fully awake; yet he knows that sleep eludes me when I am forced to spend the night alone, waiting for his return.

" Xan, come closer to me, it's too cold without you. " The bed is warm and he knows that well enough. Still, his eyes glitter with indulgence that neither the dark nor illness can obscure. My hand wanders from his hip to his chest, caressing the smooth skin above the hard muscle. He shivers a little, from the night air and my touch. Instinctively I move closer, as if it were I who needed the warmth of his touch.

" You should sleep, Obi-Wan, it's not a friendly night. Oh, love, it was such a night, so glad you didn't go out. I - oh, ahh,ex -excuse, ahh, hishooo! shooo! ahh, ehshhh! essshaaah! " Spraying both of us with his sneezes, Xan began to apologize profusely and alternate between scrubbing his nose with a tissue and raking his hair out of his eyes.

He won't share all he sees of the Dark with me, but he won't prevent me from sharing this slight suffering with him. Sometimes I think he is part of my Light, if only he would let me show him.

" Xanatos, bless you, let's not talk of the night or what you or I did today. We don't have to sleep yet. Just come to me. " My voice sounds plaintive in my own ears as I sit up half way and lean against the pillows. Stroking his hair I open my mind to him so he knows I want to hold him for a while. We haven't bonded fully yet, I can't communicate with him mentally, but I can send feelings over our bond. He often rests in my arms when he comes back, and we talk of what he saw, what the Jedi send him to do, what they won't send their knights to endure. Tonight he holds back, he blows his nose in the tissue and looks guiltily at me. A silly thought, on his part, to think that a head cold, of all things, would keep me away from him.

" Obi-Wan," He throws the used tissues on the floor and grabs a few clean ones. When he speaks his voice, usually silky and deep, is tight and I can tell his throat hurts. " We should just sleep, or at least try to. You look exhausted and I'd love to simply lose this night to oblivion. "

With a congested sounding sniffle and a weary groan he relaxes and lies down on his back. His hand tentatively touches mine, the fingertips petting my palm before he interlaces his fingers with mine I raise both our hands to my lips when I feel his grasp tighten. At the same time his mental shields grow more firm and he turns his head; he wants to hide what he experienced tonight from me, from himself.

" Xani, come to me. " My breath moistens his knuckles as I whisper, my lips brushing his hand. A kiss to each of his knuckles and the back of his hand is given.

" Xan, I could take that memory from you, anyone can do a memory wipe. Or you could push it back, let it crouch in the back of your mind, where you think it won't taint me or bring the dark crashing in on you. Or you could just let it go, love. " Pressing his hand to my mouth I close my eyes and fill our bond with love and light. A gradual easing of shields reveals a swirl of emotions. Ill or not, Xanatos would not be feeling sleepy anytime soon. Nor would I.

Sudden movement wrenches my hand toward him as Xanatos lurches forward, coughing in a way that makes him gasp desperately. Extricating my hand from his, I slip down next to him and wait for him to calm down. Gods, how I want to burn out the sickness and wisps of darkness from him! As his breathing slows I rest my head on his chest and let his arm cradle me, pull me closer. He thinks he always has to protect me, keep that Dark away from me, as if I were a child of the Light. Well, let him think that tonight. He shall learn otherwise soon enough. My hand rests palm side down on his chest and starts to stroke him gently. His breath is warm as it stirs my hair slightly, tickling my scalp. He breathes through his mouth and pants softly as he exhales. I can hear him sniffle every few moments, but his nose is congested and it brings him little relief. After a few minutes he clears his throat, cautiously, he thinks I've drifted off.

" Wish you'd sleep, Obi. Better for you to rest. " My lover murmurs these words into my hair; I can barely hear him. Quietly he kisses the top of my head and then rests his cheek there. The palm of his hand covers my hand as I caress his left nipple. Beneath me his body tenses as his breath catches and he lifts his head. The firm warmth of his arm at my back recedes. I can hear his breath coming in light, expectant pants - his is going to start sneezing again, and he struggles to keep them back and tries not to sneeze on me as I lay against so close to him. Nuzzling his chest I reassure him over our bond and whisper to him, my words obscured by the kisses I plant on him.

With a sigh he ends the bout and his body eases. Burying his nose in a tissue he attempts to nudge me away. I refuse to move; I know when my lover needs my touch. Xan is strong, he could easily dump me off the bed, but instead he pokes me in the ribcage, murmuring something about me getting sick, too.

But I'm not that easy to discourage and in retaliation I begin to kiss the expanse of skin nearest to my mouth. My tongue replaces my lips and laves the soft, warm skin of his toned chest. I lift my head and run my tongue around the other nipple as he still holds my hand captive over the left one. After one wet kiss there and I look up and bring my mouth to his ear.

" I'm not sleepy, Xan. Trust me. You do trust me, don't you? " Child of the Light or not, I've seen the Dark, and it looked nothing like my Xanatos. He has to trust me and come to believe that. One look in those deep blue eyes and I can see it all, see the trust he has in me, the love he finally let himself feel, the images of darkness that haunt him, the memories that keep him on the path that is neither Dark nor Light.

A closer look and I can see how that the cold he's come down with is going to be heavy one. He's already congested, probably has been all day. Leave it to Xan not to actually mention he feels bad until its painfully obvious. In the dim light of our bedchamber I can make out the red that rims his eyes and the circles under them. He has removed the hand that covered mine and is rubbing his nose again, his now pink and irritated nose.

" You're going to catch my cold, love, and I don't want to make you experience what I did tonight, not this time Obi. " Stroking my face with a clean tissue he snorts a little when he realizes he sneezed on me again. He's probably right, I'll end up with his cold in a few days. But he's wrong if he thinks he has to tell or show me what happened tonight, what act so unworthy of a Jedi he had to do. All he has to do is trust me and trust in that glimmer inside him.

" Xan, I, oh, I know you trust me. Come to me. " And I lean forward and cover his mouth with mine. I want to taste the Dark that he feels tonight. I want to taste the cold he caught. I want to taste him, Xanatos, and all that he is at this very moment. The tip of his tongue slides against mine for a second, then he involuntarily coughs into my mouth and breaks the kiss as soon as he can.

" Sorry," I mutter, and kiss his cheek, " Forgot you're all stuffed up. Shhh, you just relax. Please, Xan, no shields. "

Bowing his head slightly, so our foreheads touch, my Xanatos lets his shields ease. One by one they fall away and I can feel that flux of emotion inside him that I only sensed earlier. He delicately kisses the corners of my mouth, my upper lip and lower one; tiny kisses that nearly don't touch my lips. But the energy I feel tingle across my mouth when he kisses me assures that he does more than touch me. Xan opens himself to me and lets me feel what is in the very core of his being. Tendrils of love and trust reach out to me, encourage me to embrace and accept his sickness and his fear. Sapphire eyes glow, hauntingly bright, painfully vulnerable.

" No shields, Obi-Wan. Force, of course I trust you. " The words are low and husky as they leave his throat and his breath is hot against my mouth. His slim fingers reach up to brush against my face. His touch is like his kiss; he loves me as if he is scared to hurt me. Mute adoration and worry twist together and flit across our bond.

" But? Oh, Xan, you cannot always protect me. Qui-Gon couldn't, neither can you. " Leaning into his touch, I nuzzle his hand with my cheek. Gazing at the elegant, pale body beneath me, fragility is something I would attribute to him before I would to myself tonight. He does not look like the efficient, honed, acute and even deadly tool of the Jedi. No, he possesses a cool, white beauty and a soft, helpless vulnerability in his sickness.

I cannot forget he is ill, not matter how much I want to deal with his emotional issues tonight. To strain him too much would be tiring for both of us, but especially for Xanatos. Lowering my head, I kiss his forehead and the tip of his nose. I send a healing Force wave, but I'm no healer nor am I strongest in the Living Force. Well, it ought to help a little, even if it only eases up the congestion. As he begins to sniffle I see the effect my attempt has had. His nose is all runny again and he looks almost embarrassed. After handing him tissues again, I move away a little, only enough to give him some space. With the bond open like this, I myself cannot bear to lose physical contact with my beloved.

" Did I help, Xani? " I don't even know why I ask him this; I just need to be with him, as much as I can. As he wipes his nose I traces little circles on his chest with my fingers. The very feel of his skin is amazing; I could sit here for hours, mesmerized by it.

" Of course, Obi-Wan. " His answer is just as unnecessary as my question, but he replies anyway. Xan touches my back lightly, reassuring me as he rubs his nose with the tissues. The sniffles must have brought a tickle to his nose, his breath heaves in anticipation. The tissues hover, held loosely before his nose, waiting for a sneeze to build up. I lay my hand on his chest soothingly as it rises and falls with his breath.

He sneezes wetly into his tissues and blows his nose with a sigh of relief. With a congested sounding cough, followed by a series of sniffles, he reaches out for some clean tissues. Blowing his nose again he pets my back with his free hand.

" Feels much better, love. " Giving his nose a final rub, he throws away the tissue and lays back, languid and at ease. He still sniffles, but the look in his eyes beckons me. He is ready to let me into his soul, but first I want to touch his body.

Like an offering he lays below me, his mind and body open to me. I yearn for him so desperately. Only when his soul is laid bare like this can I understand the protection he always wants to give me. I want our bodies to be just as close as our minds at this moment. I cannot resist him; I must touch him again. Nestling my head in his neck I kiss him hungrily. I tickle his neck with kisses and whispered endearments. My hands rove over his body, relaxing and heating his flesh. I want us to be close and content before we have bond time.

A tender touch is the answer to my query as Xan runs his hand down my back and buttocks. He strokes me, pushing his body into mine, matching my own desire for intimacy. Reluctantly I separate out bodies, but only for a few seconds.

I sit up and gesture for him to come close to me. Settling myself up against a few pillows I pull my lover toward me and let him sit ensconced in my body, his back leaning against my chest. Finally, I hold him close to me, his skin so warm and soft, his fine hair against my shoulder. Wrapping my arms around him, I hug him hard and whisper in his ear.

" Feel, don't think, I'll lead us in the Tapestry Meditation. " He coughs slightly and nods his head. The Tapestry is not a complex meditation, but it is reserved for bond-mates. It allows those who have pair-bonded to explore different threads in the soul. I've never done it with Xanatos before. Kissing his shoulder I let all my shields drop and reach out across our bond.

I gasp when I can sense his whole soul. A glimmering network appears in my mind, the silver thread that represents out bond pulsing and glowing with life. He is letting me in, allowing me the privilege to feel his insecurities, fears, and uncertainties. The training bond that was never cut off glimmers no longer marred by pain and regret. More Light shines inside my Xanatos than he suspects. Warmth and love and strength are the emotions I feel and cannot help but send to him in return.

The filaments that make up his soul are varied, as the experiences in his life are. The texture is rich and beautiful, an interplay of dark and light that incorporates all he has seen and accepted as part of his being. Only the snarled thread of darkness, the fear he cannot seem to let go of, disrupts the pattern. Yes, my lover has darkness inside him, but it is the tangled thread that keeps him from being at ease. We all have darkness; none of us are pure light. But it is how and if we deal with our darkness that determines whether the thread will become part of our tapestry or create a tangle of painful emotion - fear.

The dark thread in my lover's soul is entangled with many memories. Past instances of hatred, pain, or anger. Both his own experiences and those he observed in the many people he encountered. The thread is entangled with our bond. I encourage him to unravel this thread, to recognize it and to acknowledge it. Later, when he is alone in his meditations, then he will deal with it and include it with the other threads.

His mind and soul reach out, touch the thread, and start to follow its twisted path. Xanatos shivers and I immediately pull him closer and rub his stomach to calm him. I don't want him to undergo too much turmoil, for he is ill. But he continues to unsnarl the dark line, determined to find the ease that eludes him. He finally encounters the base of his fear and shudders, faced with his strongest insecurity. My lover fears the dark will take me, he fears that he will lead me to the dark. He fears he is not strong enough to resist temptation again. Yet in his very core he is frightened that he will see me walk down the path of the Dark, tainted by the love he gives to me. I'm taken aback. surely he has other fears and insecurities? But this is what bothers him tonight.

My heart floods and I fill our bond with the strength and resilience I see in the man who rests in my arms. He has already fought the ultimate battle against the darkness within and came out the victor. If the darkness comes to me, it will only be through my own fear and anger. And it will not come; it will not take me. Too much exists in the Light for me. My lover; my padawan; my life as a Jedi; my master, waiting for me, for us.

Love spills out from his soul, illuminating memory-images of me. I see myself as a padawan, the object of his jealousy; then, as a knight, the object of his rage, the one he blamed for his master's death; finally, as I was when I saw the Light in him, the object of his love. I can match those images, and I do. For when I was a padawan, I saw Xanatos as a threat to myself and a source of grief for my master. When Qui-Gon died and I encountered Xanatos, I found him selfish and maddening. But when I saw him let go of the Dark and pain, I loved him. I love him as the boy who was my master's first apprentice, as the man he became, the one who will be my second and last love.

The energy of the meditation has absorbed both of us, but I can still feel my arms around him and the press of his back into my chest, it is a sort of grounding in reality. And outside of the meditation my lover is still afflicted by a nasty head cold. I tighten my hold on him and let him sneeze, the illness is part of that tapestry somewhere, it affects his emotions tonight. There is no need to have him hold his sneezes or sniffles back.

" Hishhhooo! ahishooo! ishhhh! ah, hah, hahishssshhoo! eshhhhhahh! " Oh, Xan, his sneezes settle a fine mist over my arms and thighs. I wonder if he notices he sneezes as he follows the threaded pathways. His head lolls back against my shoulder when he finishes and I hug him close, still leading our meditation.

The emotions shift. Xanatos radiates determination and resolve. I can feel his reassurance in the Light. He will not fail himself. But even determination and resolve cannot hold him for long; he trembles at the outpouring of emotion. I let his mind ease away from mine; not relinquishing the bond, but letting the hold I have on him go. His inner shields slip back and I am secure that he has found some knowledge, some serenity.

Tears trickle down his cheeks and neck as the strain lessens. I don't know when he began crying, but he is going to stop very soon. The sobs catch in his throat and make him cough, his body shuddering against mine. Snuffling back his sobs and attempting to keep his nose from streaming, Xanatos' cold has gotten the better of him. I've managed to help him with that awful haunting fear, now he needs some comfort.

" Shhh, beloved, am I not here for you? Breathe, Xanatos. " I start to kiss his shoulders again and rub his stomach. Slow lazy motions that create soothing, comforting warmth. His head drops onto my shoulder, his breathing returns to normal. Frequent sniffles punctuate those breaths, however. I hand him the tissues and continue to pet him as he blows his nose. As he finishes he rubs my thigh with his hand and sniffs, the congestion stopping him from inhaling properly.

" Obi-Wan, oh gods, love you. You are my strength, my Light. Let me be the same for you, Obi-Wan. " He turns his head and gazes at me the best he can. Not willing to even let him think he is otherwise, I kiss him. I let our breath commingle, I inhale as he exhales. I release his mouth, run my tongue over his lips. Trailing kisses over his face I stop at his ear.

" Xanatos, you ask for what you already have. " The touch of his delicate skin on my lips excites me. I nip gently at his earlobe and then suck on the tender area behind his ear. At the same time my hands explore his taut stomach, stroking the downy hair below his navel. His soft whimper encourages me and soon I run my fingertips over his ribcage and his chest. Teasing caresses and whispering strokes that avoid his nipples. Dragging my fingertips over his collarbone I savor the sound of his desire. Low panting breaths and formless moans, an admixture of lust and need. He pushes against me and my own arousal becomes evident to both of us. I can feel my erection press into his back, hot, throbbing. A sudden desperation wells up inside me and a slow shudder convulses my limbs. So much love, trust and desire! I need to be inside him, to surround and be surrounded. And the need is so strong; I want him hard and fast.

Not the time for that sort of lovemaking, not tonight. A soft cough rouses me from my hazy thoughts. Pressing my lips to his neck I loosen the too-tight embrace I clasped Xanatos in during my reverie. I have to remind my self that he is ill, I will not become a selfish lover. Draping one hand loosely over his hips I gently stroke his erection with the other. Already so hard, pleasure makes him quiver. Fingernails pierce my thighs as he thrusts up into my hand and then presses his buttocks into my own hot arousal. Hushing his broken sobs, I withdraw my fingers from his erection and gently clasp his hand.

Careful not to be rough, I shift our bodies as gracefully as I can. Laying Xanatos on the bed I kiss his forehead, beginning a pathway down. Nose, mouth, lips, the hollow of his throat, each feature is treated with the utmost reverence. The cascade of dark hair on his shoulders causes me to wander from my intended route. The tip of my tongue tests the whiteness of his shoulder and is delighted with the sweet soft taste of his pale beauty. I've never seen him so radiant, so bright.

Hands tickle the fingernail bruises on my thighs and draw me into a crushing embrace. As my chest brushes against his I feel the silkiness of his skin slip under my own nipples. The feel of skin to skin is so warm and perfect, I rub my erection against his and tremble. His breath is hot and heavy on my neck as he whispers to me.

" Beloved, now you come to me. " Inhaling sharply, Xan lets his fingers creep up to my cheek. " And no shields! "

" Yes, love, yes, no shields, love you too much. " Shields fall all so easily for us; as gossamer curtains part and the full light of the sun pours throw a window, so too the mental barrier eased away and the Light filled out souls.

Easing my body between his thighs, I tenderly prepare him for loving. Having dropped one kiss below his navel, I slide into him slowly. Wrapping my hand around his pulsing and eager member I find a rhythm and bring us to slow, sweet climax. The bright pattern of a tapestry flashes in my mind, but I cannot discern where or how the two of our souls became interwoven. The pattern is continual, the threads distinct but ever touching.

My Xan needs to rest, for the meditation has tired him; already I can sense that he is becoming drowsy. Tired, mentally drained, Xanatos more than deserves a quiet night. It makes me want to hold him closer, keep him warm. After our loving I managed to curl myself around him from behind, my arms around him. Rubbing my face in his soft hair I inhale the sweet scent of Xanatos, it smells like the rain and like our loving. Lost in some memory, I don't realize he's talking to me.

" Obi-Wan? Tissue, please? Are you well, love? " His words are interrupted by a series of sniffles and an annoyed grunt. He blows his nose wetly after I finally manage to hand him the tissues. I kiss his hair and the nape of his neck; I don't care if he laughs at me for getting lost in him.

Sighing, I shift our bodies so we lay together, limbs entangled, my head pillowed on his chest. Pulling me tight against him, Xanatos sleepily murmurs something. I can't make it out, but I'm sure it's some more nonsense about me catching his cold again. I can allow oblivion to come now. Falling asleep is easy when my lover is here, when he is calm and when he lets me feel his Light.

I wake up early when morning comes. The grayness of the night before still lingers, illuminated by the ever present lights of the city-planet. Even when the sun rises that grayness will pervade until the storm passes. I slip out of bed, make sure my Xani is covered and warm and go to shower quickly.

Having dressed I walk into the common area, I need to fetch Anakin before he has lessons. My saber rests on a table, next to my lover's blaster gun and vibroblade. Touching the cool metal of his weapons, I shudder. They aren't the weapons of a Jedi and they feel strange in my hands. I use Qui-Gon's saber, not a weapon I myself constructed, and it too feels odd in my hands at times. Perhaps Xanatos and I shall go and rebuild our sabers together soon. There is enough of the Light between the two of us to complete the task.

-FINIS-