. Bonds of Choice #17 Star Wars: TPM FanFic Series by HiperBunny (message 3 of 5) +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ flickflickflickflickflickflickflickflickflick "To withhold love out of nothing but fear will destroy you ... " flickflickflick "You do not need to return my feelings, Master. Love is something I can feel without reciprocation." "I know, Obi-Wan. You think you have done so for your whole life. Know this, as sure as you know yourself. I love you, will love you, for as long as love can be." The touch brought Obi-Wan completely within the moment, his awareness coming sharply to the now. Qui-Gon leaned forward, pressing a warm, soft kiss to the younger man's brow. With his lips he traced a slow tour of his soft cheek, along the jawline and over the dimpled chin before planting a smooch on the tip of his nose. Then Qui-Gon's mouth was on his, arms tight around him, lips strong and warm, beard tickling him gently as the kiss traveled again, taking the scenic route across cheeks and eyes, forehead, then back to the open wet mouth again. Tongues explored and memorized, laid claim and paid reverence in the infinite expanse of the moment. Obi-Wan filled his hands with the soft, long hair, the reality of that long-cherished dream overwhelming him as he struggled for breath, for life, for the touch and smell and feel of Qui-Gon Jinn. flickflickflick "We are Jedi first, and servants to the Light." Obi-Wan looked deep into his master's eyes. "First we are Jedi, servants of the Light." Qui-Gon pressed his wrists back to the wall. "We are secondly Master and Padawan." "Secondly, Master and Padawan." "Only beyond that are we free to be lovers." "Thirdly we are lovers, oh, that feels good," he whispered ... "That third is just as true and unfaltering as the first two, Obi-Wan. No doubt, no fear on that. Do you promise?" "Yes Master, I swear." flickflickflick "I want you, Koateleu, but I won't do anything to hurt you." Qui-Gon took Obi-Wan's hand and tugged him towards the bed they had so chastely shared the night before. flickflickflick "Shouldn't you be enjoying what time you have, knowing somebody is looking out for you?" Corubia took his face in her hands. "They're the only family we get." flickflickflick **Thou art that soul with which my soul is indelibly enmeshed for all eternity. Within my heart there burns a flame of desire and passion for thee. Through all the days I shall love thee and all the nights also shall I crave thy presence with me. Without remorse I offer thee all the love that can be made within my soul. The knowledge of thy existence makes my world a better place. I find a joy in thy company that can be found with no other. When first I embraced thee, I also embraced life worth living And when I knew my feelings for thee, I also knew peace. I offer thee a place by my side for as long as that place has reality No other could fill it so well as thou dost. Long will I cherish thee, regardless of thy feelings for my poor self Hope and love exists for me, only where thou art also.** flickflickflick "Obi-Wan, you can keep it. I want you to keep it, if you like having it. I just need to know you understand that things are ... different between us." Qui-Gon reached to stop Obi-Wan, but he found himself with nothing more than a tangle of silk ribbon in his fingers. "There is nothing between us, my Master. There can not be, until we are both able to choose for there to be. I am not yet able to make that choice and you can not make it for me." Obi-Wan lost no time pulling his sock and boot back on. "Then tell me why you took this? Why did you keep it if there is nothing between us?" Qui-Gon's voice was choked. flickflickflick He stretched out on the bed and relaxed under the careful ministrations of his master's hands. When no explanation was forthcoming, he gathered his courage and whispered "why are you doing this?" "Because you just saved my life and the lives of countless trillions all over the galaxy, from what I can tell. I think having a real live human being see to your hurts is the least that should be offered to you." Qui-Gon found a particularly achy place under Obi-Wan's right shoulder and began using light touches of the Force to relax the knots. flickflickflick "To withhold that love out of nothing but fear will destroy you sooner. I must see to my duties. I think perhaps it is time you see to yours." flickflickflickflickflickflickflickflickflick Obi-Wan stared up at the stars, mind in a daze of sudden understanding. He slowly became aware that he was lying on his back. His hands were crossed on his chest, surprisingly warm in the cool night air. "Okay, I see 'what'. I need to know 'how'," he spoke out loud to himself. Apparently, the Force felt it was being addressed and rose up within him once more. "How?" but Obi-Wan never got to finish that question. The stars seemed to spark with red and yellow lightnings, and his mind made another abrupt trip into the moment. Flickflickflickflick "Obi-Wan, I know you're hurting, but you must try to calm yourself." Qui-Gon murmured, stroking his student's hair. He sighed. That bastard Obream was going to pay for this, just as soon as Obi-Wan was on steady ground. "You don't understand," Obi-Wan moaned from the bottom of his pit of misery. "I do, Padawan. I do. You're broken inside and hurting in ways you didn't think you knew how to. You feel betrayed and bereft and utterly, utterly alone. As if your whole existence is suddenly meaningless and worthless and a thousand other ugly things. And you probably feel any amount of hatred, anger, fear ... all the things you never want to feel. It's okay. You'll be okay, I promise," Qui-Gon pulled his young student down for another long hug. "How do you know?" Obi-Wan demanded, all stubbornness and pride. "Because I've been there, Obi-Wan. I've been down in that place, more times than I'd like to admit. You can't see it now, but there will be an end to this pain. It can't go on forever, especially if you don't allow it to," Qui-Gon tried to put into words the knowledge his student most needed right now. "You've been here before? More than once? How could you stand it? How could you let this happen over and over?" Obi-Wan was sobbing and choking and shivering, trying so hard to understand and failing utterly. "Look at me, Obi-Wan. Listen. You're talking about love. Love will not be denied, in any of its forms. If you feel it, you feel it, there's nothing you can do about that, just as you can't deny any other feeling you have. The only thing you can do anything about is how you act on it. You can choose to do nothing, or ... " he took Obi-Wan's hands in his and squeezed gently. "Or you can put your head on the chopping block and let someone take a few swings at you," Obi-Wan sniveled. "No. Never that," Qui-Gon rubbed his thumbs over the backs of Obi-Wan's hands. "Love is a very precious, volatile thing. Love done well, trustworthy love, faithful and well-shared love ... it is a gift. If you feel love for someone, you get a choice, every time. Offering yourself to another being in love is a choice about freedom. And it's a freedom you can allow yourself, or not. I have always preferred to be as free as I can, in whatever ways I can, with whomever is worthy of it." "How do you know if someone's worthy?" Obi-Wan asked, voice still trembling. "Well, neither you nor I are seers, so we don't really know," Qui-Gon allowed. "And how do you know if you are worthy of another person's love," Obi-Wan demanded. "Do you mean how do I know if YOU are worthy of love? Because I love you, Padawan, and you have never harmed me for it. You are caring and giving and faithful and true to me, your friends, your partners ... to total strangers who seek help from the Jedi through you. This was an act of injustice, Obi-Wan. Never doubt that." Qui-Gon looked into Obi-Wan's eyes and detected a spark of hope. He sighed with relief. "I think I heard that Swed was on planet. Why don't you spend some time with him? It would do you good ... " Obi-Wan nodded slowly. "Thank you, Master. I think I will." flickflickflickflickflickflickflick Obi-Wan rolled over, groaning. *Ow.* He moaned again, feeling like a dull-witted student who had suddenly realized that one plus one was two and always would be. *Now I understand why Qui-Gon says silence from the Force is more instructive than messages.* Desire and courage. He cracked one eye open and regarded the stars with some suspicion. What was happening? The Force had *never* been so ... forceful before. He could still feel the thrumming pull of its energy tugging at him. "Not done yet?" he asked. He already knew his answer. "Mind if I just lay here?" No objections were raised. Okay, he had the 'what' and the 'how', knew the 'who'. It didn't seem like the 'where' was going to be a big problem ... ah. "When?" flickflickflickflickflick The Council Chamber shone brightly about him as the sun rose upon this section of Coruscant. Obi-Wan went down on one knee before his master, holding his braid out carefully for the shears. His eyes fell upon Qui-Gon's chest, blinking rapidly. Something was missing ... The shears came together over his hair and the world around him shattered. Flickflickflick The Council Chamber shone brightly about him as the sun rose upon this section of Coruscant. Obi-Wan went down on one knee before his master, holding his braid out carefully for the shears. His eyes fell upon Qui-Gon's chest, sunlight glittering beautifully upon the stone-and-crystal charm there. He blinked rapidly, clearing the glare from his eyes. So perfect ... The shears came together and a universe of possibility opened around him. Flickflickflickflickflickflickflick "OBI-WAN! OBI-WAN!" The Padawan rolled over onto his back and rubbed the sand from his eyes. "How may I help you?" Obream held out a hand to help him up. "Scratch said you'd be about done by now. Hungry?" Obi-Wan stood, feeling surprisingly spry for someone who had just seen his past *and* his future laid out like a roadmap. "Yeah. You know that thing they say about being careful what you wish for?" Obream nodded, a smile playing across his lips. "I am here to tell you they are right," Obi-Wan announced. His knees buckled and Obream caught him about the waist. "I'll make a note of that," he assured his sheep. "You want to get dressed, or what?" Obi-Wan fumbled for his pants, managed to don them with Obream's help, and pulled his robe about him. "The rest can wait ... " Obream smirked. "Okay, I guess so. Now, how about you come back with me, get a little rest and so forth? There's a long day of work for us tomorrow." Obi-Wan nodded. "Did you know my Master is a very wise man?" "MMm-hmmm," Obream assured him. "Funny how you can miss something that's right in front of your face, isn't it?" Obi-Wan pressed. "Sure. Listen, Kenobi ... could you stop talking until you're ready to make some sense?" Obream calmly requested. "Oh sure. Sure," Obi-Wan agreed. "Sounds like a good idea." ******************* Qui-Gon leaned against the cold stone wall, waiting for Kourt to arrive. When the other master finally turned up, he had an air of distraction about him that quite surprised Qui-Gon. He breifly considered asking what was wrong, but put the impulse aside. Kourt would fill him in if such sharing was appropriate. If it wasn't, there was nothing that could pry the facts from him. "To the Oubliette," Qui-Gon suggested, gesturing towards the subbasement door. "And let's be quick about this." "Quick, but thorough," Kourt amended. The trip down into the bowels of the Temple was easier this time. Qui-Gon had taken care to have a lightchip of his own. He held the little glow steady as the elder master coded the locks on the oubliette. Kourt paused in his sequence and gave Qui-Gon a considering look. "Are you sure you're ready for this?" Qui-Gon frowned. "You want me to do it NOW? When did you have time for the prep work?" Kourt glanced down. "No, no, that's what we're doing now. I just ... you really scared me up there, Quigs." "That was your own misconceptions, Kourt. I had no intention of ... doing myself a harm. I just needed to get away and think about things," Qui-Gon sniffed. "Really." "I hear you. Really," Kourt sniffed back. "Look, we're just going to drug her and do the post-hyp, right? It wouldn't matter if my pet had died. I can do that in my sleep," Qui-Gon reminded him. "Remember that time I did it in the middle of a fire fight?" Kourt smiled nostalgically. "Yeah ... " "Damnit, Kourt, get your mind out of the gutter! And you say you're worried about *me*? I meant on Setar, with the Senator and his aid ... " Qui-Gon frowned sharply at Kourt's snickers. "Oh, open the door, you dirty old man!" Kourt sobered himself and complied. The door swung open to reveal the crumpled form of the ex-Jedi master. "Well shit," he muttered. Torlamin was a mess. Her clothes were bloody and ragged, covered in filth, her eyes were wild and feral. They fixed on Kourt with deadly intent and her fingers clenched hard. Kourt's eyes widened as his breathing was cut off abruptly. He raised his hand and spread his fingers, giving himself room to breath. "Rue, we really must work on your manners one of these days," he muttered. "*Sleep*" She narrowed her eyes at him, blinked heavily and snarled. "Gimme a hand, here, Quigs," Kourt murmured. Qui-Gon slipped forward, attracting Torlamin's attention. "I spoke to Corubia today. She's doing well," he informed their captive. She bared her teeth, then spat. "Really. I'm glad to say she's dealing with all this rather well. I'd be glad to bring her down here, if you think you can behave yourself." Something flickered in the madwoman's eyes, then she lashed out with a bare foot. Qui-Gon took half a step back, avoiding the blow. The next strike came from low and to the side, a fist of Force, seasoned with anger and malice. He held his palm out, deflecting it away from the room's occupants. He'd long been practicing to forego such physical gestures when it came to Force manipulation, but like Kourt he felt there were times when it was better to be sure than to be elegant. *Obi-Wan seems to have quite the knack for non-gestural manipulation,* he mused inwardly. He kept a wary eye on Torlamin, ready to hold or still her by whatever means necessary. She had stilled, seeming to calculate her next move. *Wonder where he picked that up?* The quality of that thought brought a smile to his lips. Kourt noticed and raised an eyebrow. "What?" Qui-Gon asked. "If I were a betting man, which I am, I'd lay good odds that you're thinking about that Padawan of yours," Kourt replied and turned back to his work at the side table. "What makes you say that?" Qui-Gon asked, ducking another blow from Torlamin. "You get this little smile ... it makes your eyes kind of ... crinkly," Kourt replied. "My eyes do *not* crinkle," Qui-Gon protested. "No, not usually. Only when you think about Obi-Wan and smile. The one generally follows the other, you understand," Kourt turned from the table, hypo in hand. "Hold her." Qui-Gon did so for the few moments it took for Kourt to make the injection. They stood back to wait for the chemicals to take effect. "So what were you thinking?" "What?" Qui-Gon turned to his friend once more. "Obi-Wan. What were you thinking about? If that isn't too personal ... " Qui-Gon laughed at that. "As if anything could be too personal between us, at this point! Nothing lurid, my horny friend. I was thinking about how he's good at doing physical manipulation without the gestures, and I thought 'I wonder where he got that from?' Isn't that the silliest thing?" Kourt laughed with him. "He's really becoming his own man, isn't he? You've started to forget you taught him most of everything he knows." "How can that be possible? I learn from him every day," Qui-Gon smiled. "I miss him, Kourt." "Good. You'll cherish him more when he returns. Now, let's get this done so I don't have to divert him when they get done with that survey. I saw the reports Knight Trydal sent. The facilities were so stripped down when they evacuated, they don't have much more than a couple of days work, with four people out there. Not much left to account for, you see." Qui-Gon snorted. "Just our luck. The one time we need a bit of a delay, the mission goes off without a hitch. Well, best to be started." Kourt nodded once and knelt to take Torlamin's pulse. "You want to monitor or suggest?" "I'll monitor. I have to do the hard part later. You do it now," Qui-Gon knelt on the other side of her limp form. He put one hand on her chest, the other on her forehead. "Okay, keep her slow and regular. And we're starting at ten, nine, eight ... " Kourt continued the countdown out loud while mentally sinking into Torlamin's mind yet again. This time his work was not one of restoration. Now he sought only to bring her into a very basic, childlike state of knowledge and understanding. He would remove most of her memories, filtering them out or erasing them entirely until she held only the very limited range of recall about herself and her life. With that done, there would be very little to motivate her towards any of the negative emotions that now controlled her. And in that state, Kourt would simply take her 'base self' off-line. That would destroy her animal instincts, like territoriality, lust, aggression, hunger and, most importantly, the survival instinct. This was the first step in destroying Master Rue Torlamin's very will to live. Qui-Gon monitored her body for signs of distress. It would do no good for her to die as she was now. In this state of agitation, there was no guarantee that she would join with the Force. And the last thing the Jedi needed right now was the spirit of a mad, dark Master running around loose. They'd had plenty of that in the Sith Wars, thank you very much. It was the duty of the Shadow to deal with that, all those centuries ago. Duty remained unchanged, and Qui-Gon was satisfied that he could see to it with a willing heart. He kept track of Torlamin's responses, made mental notes as to how Kourt was progressing and tried not to think about what this would do to his ex-colleague. She would be little more than a child when she died and the sad thing was, it was for the best. No one can survive having their mind ripped to shreds and there was no way they could let her rot in this hole. There comes a point when a person simply can not be allowed to suffer any longer, and Torlamin had certainly reached that point. Add to that the danger she presented to all and sundry, and the outcome was very simple. She had to die. Qui-Gon was sickened at his easy acceptance of this solution. He focused on her actions and reactions over the course of her imprisonment and firmed his resolve to do his duty. Calm her, take her to a place where she could simply pass over into the Force, then nudge her out into it. It would be the path of highest justice for all.