. Bonds of Choice #2 Star Wars: TPM FanFic Series by HiperBunny (message 2 of 3) +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ The stone garden was awash in the early evening moonlight. Flagstones lay in a swirling pattern, curving through a round pavilion. In the center rose a spire, upon which the curving pattern continued some fifteen feet in the air. Obi Wan was nearing the base of this spire, and his ankles screamed in rage at being put through this exercise. One day, maybe today, his body would inform him that it simply would not put up with this shit any longer. Of that he was sure, despite the fact that it had never once failed him. He held his body in perfect balance, arms held out from his torso in twin arches, palms towards the busy night sky. His knees were bent slightly, pelvis tucked to maintain a straight spine, chest up, shoulders back, chin high. Step. He pushed his weight up on his back foot, extending upwards, rising up onto the balls of his feet. Shift, and he came down, bearing his weight on the front foot. Step, breathe in, shift breath out, step. A simple, maddeningly meticulous exercise in balance and body control. He kept his eyes fixed on the flagstones before him, to help maintain his balance. "Snake arms," said the voice of his master as he entered the exercise area. Obi-Wan rolled his right shoulder up, followed by the elbow and wrist, creating a wave of his arm, moving upwards. As he brought his right arm down, shoulder, elbow, wrist, he brought his left arm up. His steps never slowed or faltered. One last step on the flagstones, and he began his twisting ascent up the spire. The path was just wide enough for both feet, side by side, and no more. It would be cheating to use the Force to give him a margin of error, so he was relieved when his master called out "Chest Isolation." His arms framed his body again, more closely, as he isolated his chest from the rest of him. Pushing his ribcage forward, then to the left, back, then to the right, he described a wide circle. Front and to the left, up on back foot, shift, back and to the right, down and step. Each movement made with precision and balance; he worked his slow way up the twisting spire. "Hip Isolation, horizontal reverse figure eight." Obi-Wan steadied his breathing even further, focusing on his task, isolating his hips from the movements of his legs, dividing his body down the middle, keeping everything else perfectly still, he continued the walk. As he rose higher, the concentration became more essential, every detail amounting to keeping himself on the narrow ledge with grace and precision. *For who would catch me, if I fell?* The thought came unbidden into his mind. //I will watch and keep you, Padawan.// His breath faltered only for a beat before resuming the slow, stately in and out he commanded. Rarely, he had sensed his Master's thoughts through the Force. Rarely, he had been able to reply. Something in him said he could have a full-blown debate with his master at this moment, but that same thing, that connection, made it wholly unnecessary. Just a few more steps, one last turn to the spiral, and he stood on the small, flat top of the spire. //You did well tonight, Padawan.// **Thank you, Master.** //The other Masters thought well of your ideas.// **It is your opinion I value Master. I am only happy to honor you by being an adequate student.** //I believe that is so. Is it true that you used to walk the Stone Spiral just to slide down from the top?// **Yes, Master.** //That I would like to see.// Obi-Wan smiled and turned back to the long, twisting path. His legs were shaking from the long period of controlled movement, but he bent his knees and lifted his heels, pushing himself for a long slide down and around the spire. He let out a whoop of joy as the speed whipped wind through his short hair. When he banked to a stop, his master stood before him. //I should have let you rest before dinner. We will be retrieving Anikin tonight.// *I will be ready.* //As always, my Padawan.// Qui-Gon brushed his fingers along Obi-Wan's cheek before leading the way to the dining hall. ******************* Obi-Wan crouched on the ledge, shrouded in the cool shadows of the Coruscant night. The business offices three stories below were the target, and he and Cord were holding the escape route. The connection to his teacher had faded somewhat during the evening meal, so Qui-Gon was now just a familiar presence riding along in the back of his mind. If he tried, he could sense his master's surface feelings, but not much more. *Maybe with practice.* A little shadow of alarm snapped along that connection, and Obi-Wan brought his attention back to his task. "They've begun," he whispered to Cord. The Knight nodded once. Obi-Wan checked the equipment one more time, ignoring the faint impression of battle coming from his master. His own personal chance of meeting up with combat this time was actually very slim, which was just as well, to his own mind. The first time he had seen action he had been about sixteen. They had been caught up in the crumbling disarray of a peace negotiation. They had eventually fought their way free of the negotiating table, beating a hasty retreat to a neutral system. Obi-Wan's memory of the experience was swathed by the overall impression of Qui-Gon's calm presence in the back of his mind, but there were still several ways he'd rather spend an evening. Not that he was afraid of combat. It just meant that he would have to be mindful of his training, rely on his teacher in that way, rather than in the more traditional sense. He sensed the boy they were after, so close his energy set Obi-Wan's teeth on edge before he became accustomed to the sensation. He peeked over the ledge, seeing the green glow of Qui-Gon's lightsaber cutting through the window. With a grunt and a heave, Obi-Wan chucked the web ladder over the side. Cord swarmed down and reached in, pulling the boy out and clipping him into a climbing harness. A few seconds later and he was headed back up to Obi-Wan's position. When he saw Qui-Gon leap up and begin his ascent, he knew their mission was successful. Cord reached the top of the net ladder and Obi-Wan took the boy from him. The child was much too old to begin training as a Jedi, but such decisions were hardly for a Padawan to make. He was a bit pale and unconscious, probably due to a command to sleep from the sure mind of Master Jinn. The boy went up and over Obi-Wan's shoulder even as he turned to make his way to the waiting transport. The sleek craft hung some eight feet above the rooftop that Obi-Wan currently dashed across. A Force-assisted jump and they stood upon the lowered entrance ramp. At the top of the ramp Obi-Wan turned to see that Cord was with Qui-Gon, protecting the Master. As Padawan protected the child, so the Knight protected the Master, each responsible for the preservation of the precious commodities at either end of the Jedi ranks. Qui-Gon had turned to cut the ladder loose, and they made a swift dash to meet the transport. When all three stood side by side, the ramp closed and they relaxed, danger past. Which was more than could be said for young Skywalker. The boy's breathing was shallow, and his heartbeat too rapid. Obi-Wan dashed up the short passage to the passenger area. Two healers sat calmly, ready to see to the child. Obi-Wan turned his burden over, glad to be relieved of the responsibility. Qui-Gon and Cord had taken the other seats available, so Obi-Wan sank to his knees beside his master's chair. ********************* Obi-Wan made his way back to his master's rooms, feeling like his brains were about to fall out. He had spent all morning with the healers, learning the fine art of keeping himself and his master from ending up dead in a ditch on some disgusting outer world. So complex, the human body. So many chemicals and energies to keep balanced if it was to go on functioning. He was beginning to envy some of the less-complex life forms with which he had acquaintance. In any event, the sessions had been grueling. Long hours of shielding, unshielding, connecting, correcting, and shielding some more. He had found out the reason why the infirmary was so damn silent. With that much intense communication, most messages were passed subvocally. When he was linked into the process, it was like being at a lively gathering of like-minded people. He enjoyed it, but it was so tiring. Also, by the end of his three-hour shift, it was all he could do to bundle the threads of thought into some kind of order and drag himself off to his bed. Except that he knew he wouldn't be able to feel comfortable alone after such close contact with that many minds. Instinctively he sought out his master's comforting presence. Besides, Qui-Gon's rooms were closer, and had a fresh change of clothes for just such occasions. Maybe he'd dial up a nice meal for them both, spend some time talking ... The door opened to Obi-Wan's voice signature, but the rooms were empty. Belatedly, he recalled that Qui-Gon was helping Cord on the matter of Anikin Skywalker. The boy wasn't right. He'd fallen into a state of catatonia, or responslessness, or something like, just hours after returning to the Temple. The healers had revived him, he'd sat there eating and talking like a normal kid, then his eyes fixed on a point in the middle distance, he tilted his head as if he was listening to some muted sound, and hadn't uttered a word since. Odd, to say the least. *Probably just a trauma reaction,* Obi-Wan thought. Poor kid, though. Maybe Qui-Gon would think of something to try, but he should be back at any moment. Quick check of the chronometer and Obi-Wan decided 'clean' came before 'fed', alphabetically, so he headed for the shower. He was lathering up under a very warm spray, letting his body relax, when he felt his mind start to relax as well. Shields still stood in place, under control, but his mind was wandering to places of extreme oddness. For example, although he hadn't been bathed since he was a small child, he could have sworn he felt Qui-Gon's hands scrubbing his back. Now, obviously, this was the washcloth he was using on himself, but the image was such a nice one, he just went with it. Strong hands lathering, cleaning, smoothing away the muscle aches and weariness of the day. Fingers rubbing shampoo into the scalp, turning the wash into a massage. That was just sooooo relaxing and sweet. The tension just drained right on out of the body when the mind relaxed. He felt just peachy, like he floated on a gentle breeze, seeing the entire world below him, while some considerate soul tended his body. //Perhaps you'd better come back down, Obi-Wan.// **Hmmm?** //Time to dry off. Hungry?// Obi-Wan opened one eye, surprised to be at knee level with his master. **Feels good.** //I know, Koateleu. You've just chosen a spectacularly poor location to reach enlightenment.// *Good word choice,* Obi-Wan smiled. 'Koateleu' was from the native language of Obi-Wan's planet of origin. It was often translated as 'love', but that was a broad near-mistranslation at best. The meaning ran something like 'The being with whom my soul is forever intertwined through the machinations of the universe and from whose side I will not be removed even after I have passed from life.' From there the translator would have to resort to some fairly extreme and complicated poetry in order to fully convey the depth of love and commitment the endearment included. Obi-Wan couldn't quite get up the energy to correct his master's Feldarian. He thought Qui-Gon was probably trying to say something like 'Piuenda', which simply meant 'The one with which I share a pleasure-bed.' Obi-Wan closed his eyes again, and realized he could still see forever. Nothing looked all that bad from here. Just look at that long, strong thread of energy that bound him to his master. Wow. And there's Anikin's fate, all cloudy, but more light than dark. Hmm. Might be something interesting there. Maybe just a little look-see. //No, Obi-Wan. I don't want you to do that.// **Yes, Master. But what is this place?** //You are seeing the Moment, and the paths it creates.// **Oh. Is this permanent?** //I'm actually very surprised you've held on to it as long as you have. Come on, get up. Try to keep your eyes open. It helps to ground you in the physical.// Obi-Wan obeyed instantly, fixing his eyes on the water tap. He was still slumped in the shower stall, but the water was off. **I seem to spend a lot of time being incapacitated in the bath,** he mentioned. //It is a most unusual habit.// Qui-Gon agreed, helping his student to dry off. **I shall try to stop it, Master.** //You do that.// Once he was in his bathrobe, Obi-Wan realized his sense of euphoria had passed. Yes, calm and still in there, and quite alone, except ... except that he had the certainty that it would not take much of an effort to communicate with his master. Not the Master-Padawan bond, as such, but a familiar routine that came as easily as, say, swimming. Not quite breathing, still an exertion, but a simple one. Reaching out to Qui-Gon was coming to feel like muscle-memory rather than a foreign skill. He showed these things to his master. //Good,// Qui-Gon said. //How about dialing up dinner?// Obi-Wan padded over to the catering unit. **What would you like?** //Find out for yourself!// came the challenge. **Grr. Do the lessons never end?** //Yes. When the student knows everything.// **Oh, there's a conversation I don't want to have with you,** and Obi-Wan set about learning how to use his new ability in the Force to take Qui-Gon's dinner order. After the meal was eaten, Obi-Wan asked "how did you know what was going on?" "You were thinking of me, very loudly, with interesting illustrations, when I arrived. It was more of a case of 'how could I not.'" Qui-Gon smiled. "Um, how loudly, would you say, I was thinking of you?" "Just enough for me to hear you from the bath to the desk. Still, that's a pretty good projection for you, considering how long you've been locked up in that pretty little head," Qui-Gon reminded him. "It was because I was thinking dirty about you, wasn't it?" Obi-Wan accused. "You heard me loud and clear the first time I think about you ... well, that's not it, is it?" his theory fell apart before he even finished it. "What?" "I wasn't thinking of you sexually. Just in a comforting, companionable sort of way. Like a friend." Qui-Gon nodded, but made no comment. He'd let his Padawan work on that one for himself. There were other things that needed attention, not the least of which was a small boy in the infirmary. "Would you like to try to help the Skywalker boy?" he asked, changing the subject rather quickly. Obi-Wan shuddered, thinking of the one glimpse he'd had of the boy earlier in the day. No, he didn't want anything to do with that frightening specter. Yes, he would do what he could to bring the child back. Conflict, then calm. "Yes, Master. If you think I can help." "All that you need do is anchor me to this world while we try to find out where his mind has gotten off to. Do you think you can do that?'' Qui-Gon was all seriousness. **Of course. And if you get to wandering off, I'll just distract you with the image of giving me a pedicure.** //Be mindful of what you chose to share, even with me,// Qui-Gon cautioned. //We are not one person with two skins. We are individuals who have chosen to be together in this time and place. Do not give up your sense of Self just to enhance your sense of Us.// **Yes, Master.** "Get some rest, Padawan. I'll see you in the infirmary first thing tomorrow." Qui-Gon stood and drew Obi-Wan up for a long, sweet kiss. As much as Obi-Wan wished he had the energy to take things further, he simply wasn't up to it. One kind of enlightenment per evening seemed to be his limit. **Good night, Master. I shall be thinking of you.** //And I you, Padawan.// Something about the formality made the endearments a sacred moment between them.