.                      Bonds of Choice #20
                  Star Wars: TPM FanFic Series
                         by HiperBunny
                        (message 4 of 4)
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Obi-Wan found Qui-Gon waiting on the sofa when he returned to his
quarters.  He had taken some time to focus on the Moment, an exercise
*much* needed.  He was hovering on the edges of serene contemplation,
firmly centered and strictly balanced when he took a seat on the sofa.  The
Force was pulsing through him, stilling his thoughts to something like
clarity.  To his surprise, he found his master to be in a similar,
pre-meditative state.  **Master?**

//Hmm?//

**Is there something we can do to... seek harmony?**

//Unity Feathers?//

**Delighted to.**

There was a long pause in their thoughts as Obi-Wan waited for Qui-Gon to
move himself into Obi-Wan's mind.  When he realized his master was not
going to do this, he asked **Why do we wait?**

//You are beyond the need for intrusive mindtouch.  We are already joined. 
Did you not want to begin this?//

Obi-Wan replied by starting the paired meditation.  In his mind he created
a dark void, a backdrop for the exercise.  When this was achieved, he
closed his eyes and formed the mental image of Qui-Gon Jinn, Master Jedi,
and let the image become reality between them.  In the same moment, he
became aware of his master's mental image of himself.  The images floated
in that mental void, shared between master and student, the groundwork for
their communal meditation.

Obi-Wan looked his own image over, surprised at what Qui-Gon had presented
him with.  He was not in his regular uniform, far from it.  Instead, he
wore loose silvery pants and a pale blue sweater.  His feet were bare, hair
in the exact style he currently wore, braid tucked away with his tail,
too-long locks standing up in artful disarray.  He began his alterations
there, changing it back to the shorter cut with which he was more
comfortable.  Next he let the braid be where it *ought* to be, then left
the rest alone.

He looked to the image of Qui-Gon, amused to note his master had changed
his attire.  A long, colorful vest covered tunics, hanging to just above
his master's boot-tops.  His hair was now hanging loose and wild, not a
strand of silver in it, and the length had been extended halfway down his
master's back.  He looked… natural.  Obi-Wan looked back at his own image
and sighed.  *When will I truly know what I am?*

He pushed that thought aside and took control of Qui-Gon's image once
more.  The Unity Feather only required that feathers, in some form, be
used.  Perfect feathers, images so strong within the creator's mind that an
outside observer could see them as clearly as the person who visualized
them.  He considered the man before him and decided to use the image that
had always seemed most natural to his master.

Creamy white wings spread out behind Qui-Gon, and Obi-Wan sensed his
master's amusement.  He had so often tried to make this image work, make
the power and grace so naturally a part of the Master come through in the
symbol of these wings… so often that he had begun to believe this as an
exercise in futility.  That belief, however, had never deterred Obi-Wan
from trying again and again.  Besides, it had been amusing, over the years,
to see his master's opinion of his student alter and be represented in the
Feathers.

He focused himself again on the wings.  Strong, arching up high and spread
wide in pure white splendor.  Often he had added silver edges, or pale,
milky tones to echo the Jedi uniform and his master's greying hair.  He
studied his primary image again, trying to understand why his vision did
not ring true, no matter how he tried.

*Your understanding is incomplete.*

That was the explanation Qui-Gon had always given him, one that had so
often frustrated Obi-Wan.  Understanding of what?  The exercise?  The
symbolism?  The subject?

Qui-Gon?

Well, that seemed the most likely answer, now that he thought about it. 
The image before him was one of Jedi purity, strength, wisdom, serenity,
all the things he believed his master to be.  But was that all… inclusive? 
He had to think it was not.  There was nothing of Qui-Gon's fire, his
stubborn tenacity, his often-sublimated emotional pain - none of the things
that Obi-Wan wanted so often to simply ignore.  But in ignoring them, he
could not achieve an honest unity.  Also absent was Qui-Gon's sense of
humor, appreciation of beauty, unconditional love… nor was there music
here.

*Qui-Gon loves music,* Obi-Wan suddenly realized.  *And animals.  These are
really, really wrong…*

He began reshaping the wings, transforming them from the holy symbol of a
Master and into the more delicate, elegant lines of the crane. *Better…
needs more…*

He focused in on the softer, short plumes on the inner lines, coloring them
to a rich yellow-green.  Then, with careful deliberation, he began
selecting colors for the primaries.  Red for spirit, gold for perseverance,
bright blue for laughter, rich violet for artistry, amber for affection. 
Indigo for lust.  The image drew splendid life into itself, achieving a
strength and clarity that Obi-Wan had so often missed.  Still, it wasn't
quite right, not entirely the truth.  Still something missing, something
vital that Obi-Wan couldn't quite put his finger on.  

He let his thoughts still, trying to bring forth his total impression of
his master.  *And lover, don't forget that.  And friend, partner… he's not
just your damn teacher, you know.  He's had a life before you, without
you.  Where is that, in these feathers?*

And that was it, of course.  He had added nothing of his own curiosity, his
lack of information regarding his master's true self here.  This was only
the picture of how he *thought* his master was.  Where was the
uncertainty?  Where the mystery of the man he had lived with for so long? 
And just how long was he going to accept the illusion that what he knew and
liked about Qui-Gon was the sum of his parts?

He focused on the image once more and let the rest of the feathers be
grey.  Grey for uncertainty, the unknown and undiscovered parts of Qui-Gon
Jinn.  The spaces that yet needed to be filled in Obi-Wan's knowledge. 
Almost… almost…

*You're ignoring something…* he repeated to himself.  *He's no pure Jedi
and never has been.  He's failed in the past, lost friends, hopes,…
students, because of that failure.  You've wanted to see him as a Perfect
Master, but he isn't.  He doesn't WANT to be, either.*

So Obi-Wan carefully tipped each feather with dead, matte black.  The
Darkness that Qui-Gon fought and defeated, every day of his life.  The
Darkness that Obi-Wan never thought about, never feared, never battled. 
The Darkness that had touched Qui-Gon and would forever dominate his
destiny.  *Black is made by all colors…* Obi-Wan thought, unsure of that
idea's origins.  He put it away for later consideration and refocused on
the image.  Nearly there…

He let the tunics fall open, trying to find the last detail he needed to
complete this picture.  Something he'd seen only briefly, an element merely
hinted at.  *Music* he reminded himself.  Yes… that's it…

He recalled the glimpse of Qui-Gon dancing before his mirror and let that
memory guide him.  *He moves with power, grace… that much is sure.  But
then… he had a freedom.*

Freedom.  That was the key to this riddle.  Qui-Gon was, above all things,
free.

And finally the image was complete.  No longer did the Master stand,
sure-footed and ready for duty.  Now he flew in a complicated, free-form
ballet of unchained spirit.  Obi-Wan held the image and waited for Qui-Gon
to be ready for receiving it.

A moment later, and Qui-Gon was ready for the exchange.  Obi-Wan sent his
creation over and received his own.  At first he frowned, but then he had
to laugh.

Qui-Gon had presented him with the image of himself holding a small
feather-fan.  For years Qui-Gon had added feathers to that little fan, each
one holding some significance in Qui-Gon's estimation.  Some were easy to
work out.  The fire-wing primary was for Obi-Wan's burning desire for
knowledge.  A short, yellow, fuzzy one he had puzzled over for ages, and
had come no closer to understanding.  His attention today fell on the
newest addition.  A peacock, he thought, knowing of no other bird that had
three-foot long tail feathers topped with a vibrant, round pattern.  So his
master thought him a peacock, did he?  But in what sense?

It suddenly occurred to him what other significance a peacock feather had
between himself and his master.  When, months ago, he had made and offered
the Feathers of Heaven to Qui-Gon, they had used only one of the pair.  The
blue plume had been the catalyst for their current relationship, but the
other had gone unused.  The other, Obi-Wan smiled to note, had been made of
a peacock feather.  So… what does that mean?  He wracked his brain for what
he had read regarding the feathers.  Always in pairs, they came.  No
specific feathers needed, but they must not be a matched set.  They must be
readily identifiable as separate pieces to a whole.  One for desire and one
for love.

And Qui-Gon had always known what the second feather was for.

*Well I'll be damned.  He sees my love for him.*  Obi-Wan let the image
fade away and opened his eyes.  He fixed his gaze upon Qui-Gon once more,
stilling his emotions and finding peace within that knowledge.  *Okay, he
knows.  He knows and accepts and wants it.  Okay.  Okay.  Everything's just
fine.*

And somehow, it was.

After a long moment, he opened his eyes. "Well?"

"Your understanding grows more complete," Qui-Gon replied.  "We should
talk."

"No," Obi-Wan contradicted.  "You should talk.  I should listen.  This
time, I swear I will listen with an open heart."

"Well," Qui-Gon sighed.  "I wasn't really expecting that."

"How long has it been since I simply sat and listened to your words,
Master?"  Obi-Wan shook his head. "See?  There I go again."  He folded his
hands in his lap and gazed steadily upon his master.

**********************  

Qui-Gon drew his knees up against his chest and wrapped his arms around
them.  His Padawan sat less than two feet away, a vibrant, beautiful,
highly sexual being with absolutely no sense of being loved or cared for. 
*Time to end that.*

"There was once a time in my life when all things were beautiful, exciting,
new... and nothing was beyond my reach.  I was very young, Obi-Wan.  I was
raised, not as you were, not in the crèche, but by a Master.  My master,
Sarafel, found me and took me as her Padawan as soon as she could get me
back to the Temple.  I was almost twelve before I knew how unusual that
was." Qui-Gon stretched his legs out and settled in for the long haul.  He
fixed his eyes on the carpet and took a deep breath.

"The reason I didn't know is because I was... kept apart... from the other
children.  I was considered to be dangerous, a threat, a possible future
enemy of the Order, a fact that was not kept secret from me.  The Council
knew, through the Force, that I held some special place in the scheme of
things.  I believe it frightened them.  I know *I* frightened them.  Master
was allowed to raise me here in the Temple, but only as long as she
accepted the hardest missions, the most difficult tasks, and trained me up
as quickly as possible.  This, she did."  

Qui-Gon glanced over at Obi-Wan, but his expression had changed little. 
His brow was slightly furrowed in deep concentration, but he was otherwise
still.  

"When I reached an age when I was deemed old enough to explore matters
sexual, I had begun to feel... disconnected.  Every move I made was the
subject of intense scrutiny by myself, my master, the Council, random
strangers... anyone with any kind of interest was constantly calling me
into account over my choices.  I was *young*, Koatel,  very, very young,
for all that I grew up being sent on missions no child should have ever
been subjected to.  I saw combat for the first time when I was eight.  I
took my first life at nine and things never got any better.  By the time I
was sixteen I was comfortable in my place apart from and above my peers. 
But by the time I was eighteen, I discovered I was desperately lonely." 
Qui-Gon rubbed his eyes.  "My master is a good person, but... I was
lonely."

Obi-Wan looked on him with the frank curiosity of a child seeing a creature
in a zoo.  Qui-Gon frowned.  Obi-Wan blinked, then stilled again.

Qui-Gon stood abruptly.  "Never mind."

He was aware that Obi-Wan called out to him, aware that his student was
following him when he left their quarters, but not for nothing was he a
Jedi master.  He made his way quickly to the busiest corridor and faded in
with the foot traffic.  When he was sure he had the spare moment out of
visual contact, he stepped into a lift. 

A few levels later he got back off and took another to the floor he
sought.  A quick scan of the area told him that Obi-Wan was nowhere to be
seen, so he turned his steps towards the Aviary.  As he walked, he pulled
out his comm link.

"Crowe."

"Kourt, I need a favor."

"Quigs?  I thought you and Obi-Wan..."

"We were.  I need a favor."

"Anything in my power.  You know that."

"Get me off planet.  Now.  Today.  I changed my mind.  I'll... get Obi-Wan
assigned to the crèche and... something.  He wants to teach, anyway. 
Daego, Ero Phelian, I don't care just get me the hell out of here." 
Qui-Gon palmed the Aviary door open and stopped just inside.  The calm joy
of living from every creature's mind washed over his soul like a balm.

"Quigs, what happened?"

"Nothing!  Nothing happened.  I just... I can't DO this, Kourt!  He was
looking at me like..."

There was silence from the comm link for a long moment.  Qui-Gon stepped
inside the net pass-through and sat down on the tile floor.  He opened one
of the enclosures.  A small  bundle of fur instated itself on his lap and
he began to slowly stroke its back.  

"What was he looking at you like, Qui-Gon?" Kourt finally asked.

"Like I was a... *thing*.  I couldn't... I can't..."  Qui-Gon faltered to a
stop.

"You're going to have to.  Request denied."

Qui-Gon stared at the comm link in shock as the connection was cut.

"Master?"

Qui-Gon twisted around to see Obi-Wan standing in the pass-through of the
net enclosure.  His face was a study in worry and confusion.  He came
forward, moving slowly and keeping his hands to his sides as Qui-Gon had
taught him, the proper manner to approach a skittish creature.  When he was
just an arm's length away, he sat back on his heels and lifted his fingers
towards Qui-Gon's hair.  Qui-Gon sat very still, watching those fingers
with a fierce intensity.

Obi-Wan stroked Qui-Gon's hair once, twice, then retreated.  After a long
moment, he moved forward and sat down, slipping his legs to either side of
Qui-Gon's body.  "Tell me what I have done to you..."

Qui-Gon jerked, started to rise and found himself captured in a firm
embrace.  "WHAT did I DO to you??" Obi-Wan demanded.  "I've never seen you
look so hurt in my life, and it had to have been me.  I was the only one
sitting there.  WHAT did *I* do?" 

"It's not you, Padawan.  It's just... memories and... the past..."

"Bullshit.  You were planning to run off and leave me here.  Leave me. 
Your Padawan.  That absolutely is not like you, Master.  Now tell me, or I
go corner Master Crowe and see what he knows."  Obi-Wan wrapped his arms
around Qui-Gon's ribcage.  "Please, Pan, just... just tell me."

Qui-Gon leaned forward to put the animal back in its cage.  He twisted
around to face his lover.  "You fucked me like... like you didn't even know
me.  Like you didn't give a damn who you were in or what I thought about
it.  Like you didn't give a damn about me.  I can't handle that."

Obi-Wan blinked, pulled back from Qui-Gon.  "This is about sex?"

"Sex actually *matters* to me, Koateleu.  I don't go into it with an
emotional divorce towards my partner.  So when you took me... and you
didn't care about me..." Qui-Gon swallowed, wondering if the burning in his
chest was detectable through their bond.  "I felt used."

"Oh Master.  Oh skies... why didn't you stop me?  Why did you let me?"
Obi-Wan demanded.

Qui-Gon gave a strangled laugh and looked away. The light splintered and
wavered as tears threatened.  "Let you?  How could I deny you?  I love you,
Obi-Wan.  Love you.  I just... I wanted..."

The tears fell.  Not many and not hard, but enough to make his breath catch
in his chest and his nose run.  "Obi-Wan, I'm so sorry.  I just wanted you
to like me, too."

"And... and you think I don't?" Obi-Wan laid a hand on Qui-Gon's.  "You
think I don't love you at all?"

Qui-Gon shrugged.  "You love me.  I saw that in your thoughts.  But when
you were fucking me... skies I hate the way that sounds.  When you were
fucking me you didn't care about me at all."

"Well, then... don't you think we should stop?"

"I... I suppose that would be for the best," Qui-Gon sighed.  "I just don't
know how we go back to being student and teacher, after this."

"What? Oh.  Oh, well... that wasn't what I meant.  I meant, shouldn't we
stop having sex until we're ready for it?" Obi-Wan shrugged.  "It usually
helps..."

Qui-Gon frowned.

"Hey!  Don't go running off again!" Obi-Wan forestalled him.  "Listen, I
just... I had a lot of time to think at San Saloor.  In fact, I had a
pretty solid bit of revelation set down for me in my meditations.  I
think...  I think we started out badly.  And I think maybe we should try to
start again."

Qui-Gon sighed in relief.  "You do?  Because I was sort of thinking the
same thing."

"Really?"

Qui-Gon nodded.

"Okay, how?"

Qui-Gon shrugged. "I didn't really plan anything.  I didn't think you'd go
along with it."

Obi-Wan frowned.  "What did you think I'd do?"

"Throw me out on my ear.  So to speak." Qui-Gon looked away.  "That's what
you usually do, when someone starts to care about you..."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes.  "You heard about me."

"Your friends care about you.  They want you to be happy and thought I
might be able to help you.  They also thought I might need some background
information," Qui-Gon explained.

Obi-Wan was silent for a long moment.  "If I kill them, I can't be
knighted, right?"

"No, you can't," Qui-Gon agreed, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his
mouth.

"I'll just have to get creative, then," he announced.  Then he
sobered.      "I didn't mean to hurt you, Master."

"I didn't mean to be hurt, Padawan.  I really thought I could handle it,
accept it.  Too bad I turned out to be human, instead," Qui-Gon gave a weak
smile.

Obi-Wan smiled in return.  "I sort of prefer humans, so... I think it's a
good thing."  Just then the hour-chime sounded.  "Dammit, I have to
reconfirm that appointment with the Kurasian senator tomorrow and their
offices are about to close.  I don't believe this conversation is over,
so... I'll see you later."

Qui-Gon quirked his mouth up on one side.  "If you're quick enough."

"I... Master?"  Obi-Wan took Qui-Gon's hand in his own and placed it over
his heart.  "I have not forgotten my Oath.  I swear to be thy loyal,
constant apprentice.  I swear to be honored by thy love."

For a long moment Qui-Gon could not breathe.  Then he took Obi-Wan's free
hand and placed it over his own heart.  "I swear to be thy protector,
kindred, friend.  I swear to love thee before I am loved."  He leaned
forward and brushed a kiss upon Obi-Wan's brow.  "I swear."

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and bowed his head.  "We should have remembered our
oaths sooner."

Qui-Gon couldn't help but agree.  He watched his student retreat from the
Aviary, heart filled with many disparate emotions.  He folded his legs up
into Lotus and closed his eyes.  There was much yet to meditate upon.