Master Apprentice
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continued from previous part
Chapter 10
Anakin checked the clock and realized, with much frustration, that only four hours had passed; four hours of listening to the most pretentious blow-hard in the Galactic Senate spew his lies and hypocrisy.
Senator Allegretti was known for his long-winded boring speeches full of bluster and name-dropping, but even by his standards, this was pushing it. Anakin supposed he should try to listen to the man's tripe just in case something new or informative was revealed. He was, after all, scheduled to present the Jedi's recommendations for additional sanctions against Allegretti's home planet as soon as the senator relinquished the floor.
"These sanctions are unfair attacks based on prejudice and bigotry against my people's customs and traditions. The Jedi claim we have committed egregious civil right violations; I say our customs are derived from the purest authority of all, - evolution." Allegretti pronounced self-righteously, pounding on the podium in front of him for emphasis.
No, the same old trash he'd been hearing since he'd become the Jedi Liaison to the Senate. However, the latest report from the Jedi Council made it even more difficult to listen to the outright lies and distortions.
"The Nowans need the guidance and security we provide, necessitated by their inferior intelligence just as much as we need their services to compensate for our smaller stature. The symbiotic relationship between our two races has flourished for more than a thousand years," the green-skinned senator wheedled sycophantically, pausing to look around at the dazed faces of his audience as if for dramatic effect - which only managed to create hope that the diatribe was finally coming to an end. When Allegretti began again, Anakin could almost hear the collective sigh of disappointment. "Let me enumerate the many ways that my people have provided aid and solace to the Nowans ..."
Force, would it never end, Anakin thought with irritation, taking a long breath as he released his frustration into the Force. It was his duty, he reminded himself, to assure the senator received a fair hearing. But sometimes being polite and composed when confronted with obvious injustices and hypocrisy was impossible. Usually by the end of one of these blatantly disingenuous speeches, he couldn't help letting a few rude comments slip. Today, however, he couldn't seem to stay focused long enough to let himself be bothered by the senator.
Allegretti was from a planet within the Pal'on circle, where Paladino was located. It didn't take much to remind Anakin of the most wonderful and terrible time in his life. But for some reason, today he couldn't seem to think of anything else. The bond was pulsing more strongly than it had for some time.
He looked over at Padme and found her watching him intently. He winked and then turned his eyes back to Allegretti, hoping he looked at least somewhat attentive to what the man was saying. He crossed his arms and let his mind drift back to his memories of Paladino, like a tongue to a sore tooth, and to the man who still occupied a part of his soul even after three long years. Obi-Wan Kenobi.
He remembered waking from the blaster stun and finding his bond-mate gone. He'd thought he'd go crazy for the want of him. The mental and physical pain had been enough to literally knock him off his feet. For the first two cycles he'd been unable to get out of bed for more than a few hours a day, but had soon gotten so disgusted with his frailty that he began weaning himself off the inhibitor by using small doses of Zephine. Since accessing the Force re-vitalized the bond Anakin had eventually learned to close himself off from the Force by maintaining impenetrable shields without resorting to the drug.
During those first few cycles, with not much else to do, he found himself constantly thinking of his bond-mate and worrying about him. How was Obi-Wan managing? he wondered. If he couldn't even get out of bed and this was supposedly `minimal', what must Obi-Wan be suffering?'
Now almost three years later, the physical pain was gone and all that remained was a nagging hollowness deep inside that constantly reminded him of what he'd lost. Even that, he'd learned to keep at bay for the most part. His thoughts of Obi-Wan were never far away, but usually they weren't as fierce or distracting as they were today.
After the incident on Paladino, the Council tracked Obi-Wan's every move. He had begged Yoda and Mace to let him go after his bond-mate, but they had forbid it. After much raging and then intense meditation, he'd realized they were right. The Force demanded that Obi-Wan find his way back to him and the Jedi on his own.
Even so, Anakin read the Jedi-tracker's reports obsessively; knowing Obi-Wan's whereabouts provided some small comfort. Unfortunately, the trackers lost his trail after half a dozen cycles and had eventually called off the search when no suspicious activity was reported.
After a year without any word, Anakin had been forced to move on and even though his diminished Force-abilities had required him to abandon his youthful dream of being a healer, he was mostly satisfied with his new life. He had taken on the role as Liaison to the Senate and through his years of diligent service, he had recently become an advisor to the very influential Civil Rights Council within the Federation of Planets. His Jedi post in the Senate and his appointment as an advisor was rewarding and challenging work and filled him with the hope that someday his personal life would be just as fulfilling
For awhile, he had thought he might have made headway towards that in the form of Senator Amidala of Naboo. She was just a few years older than him and was equally dedicated to improving the conditions on the Outer Rim planets. Like him, she saw the Federation as the means to gain power for disadvantaged planets within the Senate.
They had worked together often and he found her company to be far superior to all he'd come across. He was flattered when she seemed attracted to him and, in the natural progression of such things, they had become sexually intimate. The relationship had gotten serious enough that she had asked him several times to come with her to visit Naboo to meet her family. So far he'd been able to wriggle out of it, being unsure of his own intentions. Part of him wanted nothing more than to forget Obi-Wan and move on, but another part buried so deep he could not exorcize it, still clung to the hope that Obi-Wan would come find him and save him from the emptiness and longing that tormented his soul. If his relationship with Padme was to go any further, he knew he would have to explain his past in more detail and tell Padme that he could not offer himself to her without reservation. For as much as he cared for her, he was still deeply in love with Obi-Wan. He should at least give her that choice, he supposed. But how does someone do that and was it fair to ask? he mused.
Anakin looked up at a commotion in the auditorium and discovered that Padme had interrupted Allegretti's dissertation to adjourn the session until tomorrow morning. Anakin smiled at his lover, sure that most participants were as grateful as he for the respite. Senator Allegretti huffed in annoyance at the interruption, and then scuttled off in a snit to try and convert some of the less-scrupulous senators to see his position.
Padme made her way over to Anakin and smiled sweetly up at him. "You were surprisingly quiet this afternoon. Usually one can expect a few outbursts from you when Allegretti goes off on one of his rants. You looked as if you were a million miles away."
"Not really, just tired." He smiled mischievously. "Someone was very demanding last night and didn't let me get much rest."
Padme's face reddened and she looked around nervously then smiled coyly. "I have a few more very important items that I could use your help with. Come back to my apartment, my Jedi, and you can help me resolve these urgent issues."
Anakin laughed happily as they made their way out of the auditorium, stopping every few seconds to speak to the other committee members who were anxious to speak to two of the most influential members of the Senate.
By the time they reached Padme's apartment, Anakin was again quiet and distracted. This new constant nudging he felt from the bond had been increasing all day. He was so intent on examining these sensations and what the Force was prodding him about that he failed to notice Padme's nervous looks in his direction.
Anakin was standing silently in the middle of the living room, contemplating the meaning of the increased activity from the bond, when he felt Padme's arms wrap around his waist from behind. "I missed you, my knight. I've been thinking of you all day. How you looked laying on my bed this morning. I want you," she whispered.
Anakin stiffened, suddenly overwhelmed by the certainty that the wrong arms were embracing him. He felt Padme gasp in shock at his obvious rebuff and he forced himself to relax in her arms. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her. Padme was the best thing to happen to him since Obi-Wan and she deserved better. This is ridiculous. What is wrong with me, he thought disgustedly. Fuck the bond, Anakin thought viciously as he turned in her embrace and swept her up in his arms.
Padme laughed happily, Anakin's rejection quickly forgotten in the joy of his embrace, and pulled him down into an eager kiss.
Anakin carried her into the bedroom where he lay her none too gently on the bed and began to undress her impatiently. He needed distraction from the bond; the constant pull was driving him crazy. He passionately kissed each newly-naked patch of Padme's skin that he exposed, hoping desperately that his eager embraces would be enough to arouse him. As their lovemaking became more ardent, he knew his hopes were in vain when his usually-quick arousal wasn't happening. In desperation, he caught Padme's hand before it could grasp his quiescent member and let his mind replay the incredible nights of passion he had shared with Obi-Wan, memories he'd ruthlessly denied himself since meeting Padme. Imagining that it was Obi-Wan's hand that caressed him, his beard that brushed his cheek as their lips met, a hot needy erection that pressed against his own belly, the bond seemed to clear and his arousal built to unbearable heights even as he cursed himself on Padme's behalf. He needed this, he told himself, just this once, to push the urging he felt in the bond away.
As he lay over Padme, thrusting into her willing body more urgently than he ever had before, he heard the words he dreaded.
"I love you, Anakin."
He continued making love to her, but knew it was the beginning of the end.
Anakin stood at the window in the darkened living room staring unseeing at the passing traffic. He wished he could sleep just so he wouldn't have to face his demons anymore. After three years he was tired; tired of all the deception, hurt and loneliness. He should be flying high right now. After all, he had a dream job, was respected and admired and had a beautiful intelligent woman in love with him. Yet he wasn't happy; he wasn't even slightly contented. Why can't you stop wanting what you can't have? he thought miserably.
Did Obi-Wan ever think of him? he wondered. Did he ever wake up in the middle of the night after making love to someone whom he should love and who loved him and feel as if he was all alone in the world? Did he ever feel that he couldn't breathe because the longing was so deep? Did he ever yearn with everything inside of him to hear a certain voice or feel that unforgettable Force-essence just once more? Anakin sighed heavily struggling to silence the sob of pain that lay just below the surface.
"Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan," Anakin whispered, pressing his face against the coolness of the transparisteel. A single tear escaped, tracing its way down his cheek and smearing against the window as it fell. He did not even realize he was forming the words with his lips as he uttered softly, "Please come to me. Please."
"Anakin?"
Anakin lifted his face and wiped his eyes quickly. "I'm fine, Padme. Go back to bed."
"Anakin, please let me help," she pleaded resting a hand lightly on his back.
"I'm fine. Its just old memories that's all."
"It's him, isn't it? You've been thinking of him again?" she whispered, obviously trying to hide the hurt that this knowledge brought.
They had discussed his broken relationship once before when she'd found him sitting in the dark, brooding. He wasn't sure if she knew how many times he had left their bed to sit alone and pine after another, but he believed she probably knew more than she let on.
"I'm sorry. Allegretti is from the Pal'on circle and it just reminded me, that's all." Feeling more in control now, he turned to face her and smiled slightly.
"Perhaps you should try to find him. You don't know – he could have changed his mind," she said in a weak quivering voice.
Anakin pulled her into his arms, knowing how hard those words were for her to speak and wanting to comfort her and take away the pain he had caused. "Shhhh, darling. I'm not going anywhere. This is where I'm meant to be," Anakin whispered, wishing with all his heart that were true.
Chapter 11
Obi-Wan gathered his things and disembarked from the public transport looking around in amazement at the mass of beings surrounding him. He guided the luggage droid to the crowded kiosk, thankful for his senate credentials when he found himself pushed up to the front of the line and into a waiting taxi.
While flying through the traffic lanes of Coruscant he took several deep breaths in an attempt to strengthen his shields and push away the strange buzzing he felt through the bond. When they arrived at the luxurious hotel located in the very exclusive government district, he paid his fare and chuckled with amusement when the droid declared insolently that the change machine was broken. Every taxi he'd ever taken on Coruscant had a broken change machine.
After checking into the hotel he was guided to his suite by an impressive protocol droid, who informed him that his room had one of the best views of the senate compound and Jedi Temple in the hotel. He walked nervously to the windows, unconsciously rubbing his forehead as he perused the imposing vista of the government district and particularly, the Jedi Temple. He turned away quickly, not liking the feelings that seeing the Temple invoked. Hoping to distract himself from his sudden edginess, he decided to explore the hotel for a bit before getting ready for the reception.
He wandered through the restaurants and shops and was amused by his own wonder at the richness and opulence surrounding him. Such luxury seemed strange to him now. He'd been living in relatively austere circumstances grateful most of the time just to have fully charged power cells. How fitting that he'd become the back-world bumpkin that he and his fellow padawans used to laugh at.
And what a bumpkin he was: a junior senator from a very small and sparsely populated planet near the Quasi Mole called Renoi whose only valuable resource was the horsai gas that he and most of the inhabitants cultivated for a nice profit. Obi-Wan smiled sadly thinking about his beautiful plantation, with its rolling hills and sapphire blue lakes and streams. He missed his home and wasn't sure what he'd been thinking when he took on the senate seat and came here. He could be home right now, walking the lush green groves that spread over the most beautiful two thousand acres on the planet.
He did know what possessed him, of course: his increasingly troubled relationship with Velan and his own need for more intellectual pursuits. He loved working in the groves, building things with his own two hands and organizing the township that had developed around his plantation. It helped to keep his mind off of other things at least. Yet, his satisfaction with his work and his life in general had been fading. The senate seat had looked like a good opportunity to painlessly extricate himself from a sticky relationship while providing a stimulating challenge.
He saw a group of senators arrive in the lobby, resplendent in rich robes and tunics. He looked down at his own plain clothes and knew it was time to change. The reception was scheduled to begin in just about an hour and he must at least look the part.
Obi-Wan arrived at the Federation headquarters in a plain black silk robe and a gray ribbed tunic over tailored leggings with his shoulder length hair pulled back into a tail. He felt silly and uncomfortable. These days he lived in simpler clothing and hadn't worn a formal tunic since - well, for a long time.
He took a deep breath and made his way to the check-in desk where he was given a name plate listing his credentials and was directed to his assigned table in the back of the great hall as befitted his stature as a junior senator.
Taking his seat, Obi-Wan looked around with amusement as the other senators and speakers roamed the large hall, greeting each other boisterously or introducing themselves to whomever they deemed worthy. Obi-Wan sat and began reading over the agendas and brochures he'd been given, wondering with disgusted amusement how many public credits were being spent on the private political objectives of the attendees. It was ironic when one considered that the main topic of this conference was to discuss how to raise funds for the Sentient Aid Bill.
"Hello."
Obi-Wan looked up to find an attractive woman smiling at him. "Hello," he responded as he stood.
"You looked lonely here all by yourself so I thought I would come to your aid." She smiled brightly. "After all it is the Sentient Aid conference, and you look sentient enough."
"Well, that has been up for debate a few times, but I must sadly report I'm neither lonely or in need of aid. However, I'm always interested in meeting a fellow senator, especially one as beautiful as you."
The young woman smiled sweetly. "I'm Senator Delia Waver of Angeles," she said, offering her hand.
Obi-Wan took the young woman's hand and smiled. "Senator Obi-Wan Kenobi of Renoi. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Her handshake was firm, yet feminine and she held onto his hand just a bit longer than was necessary. "So tell me why would such a handsome new senator sit here all alone and not mix and make contacts? After all, that's the only reason we're all here."
Obi-Wan smiled, liking the forward woman despite himself. "I suppose it's not very clever of me, but I take offense to a Sentient Aid conference being used as a social event. Besides, I'm not very good at making small talk."
"Aw, you are one of those young idealistic senators who believe they can change the galaxy with good intentions and hard work," she said, brushing her blond hair back from her face and smiling brightly.
"Guilty as charged."
Delia laughed, apparently delighted by her handsome companion. "I have some people you need to meet, Senator Kenobi. They have similar beliefs as you, I think."
Just then the lights went down indicating that the conference was about to begin. Delia kissed his cheek and scampered away. His table soon filled with other junior senators just as a holovid began. The well-made documentary detailed the plight of the Outer Rim planets and the impossible obstacles the very under-funded SAB faced.
After the holovid, a lovely senator from Naboo took the stage and gave a moving speech about the importance of the Sentient Aid Bill and how desperately it was needed on the depressed planets of the Outer Rim. Obi-Wan stood at the end of the speech, clapping enthusiastically with a few other senators, wanting to show his support for such a worthy cause no matter how hopeless he feared it was. He noticed that only about a third of the huge delegation stood with him.
After Senator Amidala's speech came three more senators who had differing points of view on the upcoming bill. These senators were greeted much more warmly, but in Obi-Wan's estimation, undeservedly.
He watched as Senator Amidala quietly made her way out of the meeting hall and decided in that moment to offer his help in getting the SAB passed and funded. He discreetly slipped out of the hall into the vestibule where he saw her walking down the main corridor with a tall gentleman and the lovely Angelian senator he'd met before.
"Milady," he called out.
The three companions turned and waited for him to catch up. "Excuse me, my name is Senator Kenobi from Renoi," he said as he bowed. "I just wanted to compliment you on an amazing speech and offer whatever meager assistance I can in getting this bill passed."
Amidala smiled and extended her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you. This is Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan and Senator Delia Waver of Angeles. And we can use all the help we can get, Senator Kenobi."
Delia smiled brightly. "Padme, this is the senator I was telling you about. Gorgeous, isn't he?"
Padme laughed softly. "Senator Kenobi, why don't you join us at a little gathering I am having at my apartment tonight? You can meet the rest of our small coalition and also make Delia very happy. Oh, and please call me Padme."
Obi-Wan smiled. "I would love to, and please call me Ben."
Obi-Wan had been so energized after the conference that he'd gone directly to the Senate library and began reading everything he could find on the inter-galactic slavery laws on some of the more anarchistic Outer Rim planets. He'd written forty pages outlining different legal remedies that could be utilized to break the steely hold of fear that the Hutts and Drogs used to maintain their power over these areas. As the day wore on, it became increasingly difficult to concentrate on his research as his headache worsened and was now accompanied by a constant buzzing in the bond. He rubbed his temples irritably, struggling to focus on his work until he finally slammed his fists on the table in frustration. He felt the disapproving glares from the patrons scattered about the huge hall, especially from one particularly angry-looking archivist. He took several deep breaths hoping to calm his nerves, but when a wave of queasiness hit, he abandoned the effort and began packing away his datapad and notes. With sweat pouring off of him, he rushed towards the nearest exit desperate to escape the claustrophobic confines of the huge library. Busy wiping the sweat off his brow, he stumbled and nearly fell when he bumped into something soft. He looked down to find a small child on the floor in front of him; not just any child, but a padawan who looked to be about ten years old. "I'm sorry – I'm not feeling very well," he apologized.
The little boy jumped to his feet and smiled sweetly as he pushed a tawny-colored braid behind his ear. "That's okay. Can I help you?"
Obi-Wan shook his head, unable to form words at the sight of the small padawan; of all the people to run into -- a Jedi.
The young padawan took his arm and smiled reassuringly, "Let me help you out into the fresh air; sometimes that helps me when I'm not feeling well."
Obi-Wan let himself be pulled outside by the young boy to a small patio that looked onto a grand colonnade.
"I am Met' Kadijah, padawan to Master Noa Kuhl," the young padawan stated proudly as he bowed. "I'm Ob—Senator Ben Kenobi," Obi-Wan fumbled then looked away with embarrassment when he realized he was staring.
"Perhaps you should sit?"
Obi-Wan nodded, but instead leaned against one of the huge columns, breathing heavily until the queasiness finally abated. "Thank you for your help, Padawan Kadijah. You are an honor to your master. I'll be okay now, please return to your studies."
"You can call me Met, everyone does at the Temple. I'm not studying, I'm a Senate page," he said, touching the purple sash tied around his waist proudly. "The Jedi Senate committee is meeting here and I'm assisting. But I'm on break right now, so it's no problem. Are you sure you don't want to sit for a while? You are sweating like a bantha. Oh. I mean um – profusely."
Obi-wan wiped his forehead and laughed. "I think you were right the first time, but I'm feeling better now. -- So the Jedi are meeting here?"
"Yes sir, just the ones on the Senate Committee," Met sighed. "We've been here all day." "Is your master a member of the Senate Committee?" Obi-Wan asked curiously.
"Oh no! He doesn't like politicians. He says they are all corrupt," the Padawan stated. Then obviously realizing who he was speaking to, blushed. "Oh – I mean not all. Um -- he does admire a few politicians."
Obi-Wan laughed heartily, finding the boy charming. "Your master sounds wise indeed," Obi-wan answered. "I hope I will be measured in that very rare breed that your master admires."
Met laughed happily, obviously relieved at being forgiven for his rudeness. "I think so. You don't seem like a politician at all."
Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows, amused by the young padawan's observation and then changed the subject, "How – how long have you been apprenticed?"
Met smiled proudly," My master took me at the age of eight."
"My, my, that is very young. You two must be very close."
"My master is the best fighter in the order. He is a saber master and says one day I will be better than he is."
"He sounds very impressive," Obi-Wan said softly.
Met nodded, "He is also wise and good. He has taught me so much. I want to be just like him when I become a knight." Met turned and looked at the door they just came out of as if hearing something then turned back to Obi-Wan. "I must go now, they have started again. Will you be okay? Or perhaps I should call a healer?"
"No. I'm fine. I'm just going to walk back to my hotel and enjoy the sunset." Obi-Wan said with a smile as he pulled himself away from the column.
Met returned the smile and then bowed. "It was an honor meeting you ser Kenobi. I hope we will meet again." And with that, the small padawan slipped back into the library.
Obi-Wan gazed sentimentally at the closed door and sighed. The queasiness had abated for the most part so he walked down the steps to the mall in front of the library and found the appropriate pedwalk that would lead him back to his hotel.
He quietly strolled along, thoughtfully pondering his meeting with the young padawan as well as why the bond had been so bothersome since his arrival on Coruscant and particularly in the library. Obviously, being in close proximity to strong Force-users had a lot to do with it. He was so deep in thought that he didn't notice what building he was nearing. He stopped abruptly, when he recognized the impressive Pompo trees arching above him, the trees were over five millennia old and were the first landmark you noticed as you passed the Jedi Temple. As he drew closer to the Temple entrance, his anxiety and excitement grew. His eyes never wavered from the Temple spires, even as he wondered at his own sanity for tempting fate so blatantly. Passing in front of the beloved building, he swore he could feel the Force singing to him and just for a few moments the bond quieted and he knew a peace he hadn't felt since before Naboo.
He paused gazing at the view of the impressive gilded arch that stood just beyond the column of trees, marking the official entrance to the Temple grounds. He had wonderful memories of his time as an initiate and as a padawan within those sacred halls. This is - was his home and his family. He remembered being a ten year old initiate like Met, doing page duties in the Senate, eating sandwiches under one of the Pompo trees admiring the Temple and daydreaming of his future as a Jedi knight. What dreams he'd woven of the great Jedi he would become and the immense good he would do. His happiest moment had been being chosen by Qui-Gon as a padawan. They had a bumpy start, but had grown closer than most padawans and masters and enjoyed a bond that was said to be the strongest Yoda had seen in his life-time. Qui-Gon had been a gentle and loving master and the best mentor a boy could wish for. He offered knowledge in such a way that most of the time Obi-Wan hadn't even known that he was receiving a lesson. He always felt loved and cherished and knew without a doubt that his master would keep him safe. He felt the other memories wanting to surface, of the bad times, but he refused to give in to them. He held tight to his fondest memories and finally forced himself to move on past the Temple and continue on his way.
Since arriving back in his hotel room, the strange buzzing had intensified to the point that he had given in and taken another dose of Zephine. He was now sitting on the sofa staring at the Temple spires waiting for the drug to take effect and wondering with rising panic if the bond was always going to be this problematic on Coruscant and if so could he bear it? Going back to Renoi wasn't really an option any longer, he thought, remembering his last conversation with Velan.
He truly cared about the young Viceroy, but could no longer endure the young woman's neediness or ever-increasing demands. He had become her main advisor after purging the planet of the Hutts; something that Velan and her people had been extremely grateful for. They'd shown their gratitude by gifting him with two thousand acres of previously Hutt-owned land. When Valen made it clear she wanted more than just friendship, Obi-Wan had been flattered and accepted the offer. It had begun as just sex between friends, but had slowly changed into Valen expecting an intimacy from Obi-Wan that he was unable to give. She wanted to know about his history, his feelings and past loves. Hell, Obi-Wan couldn't even say the man's name let alone verbalize the powerful feelings that memories of their time together still stirred in him.
He'd seen this senate seat as a painless way to end the relationship while fulfilling the driving compulsion he still felt to contribute to the universal good and maybe do a little towards making amends for his many transgressions.
He rubbed his temples vigorously. Force, the bond was pounding in his head like a hammer. What the fuck was with the bond, he asked himself disgustedly. After three years, he was still wearing the inhibitor bracelet, but had just recently lowered the suppression power to the minimum and had also reduced his dosage of Zephine to only occasional use. But since being on Coruscant, he was back to where he'd started; the same dosage of Zephine and maximum suppression on the bracelet -- just like it had been right after Palodino. Even so, he could still sense the Force, lightly, but it was there nagging at him. If he could, he would gladly purge the cursed Force right out of his mind once and for all.
When he finally felt the Zephine take effect, he pulled himself off the couch and walked to the bedroom to dress for the evening. He absently selected one of his new outfits and haphazardly pulled it on.
He looked at himself in the mirror and despaired. He was hardly recognizable from that twenty-year-old who'd left for Naboo eleven years ago. So much had changed since then. As he fingered the smooth silk of his robe, he wondered what Qui-Gon would think of the man he'd become. He'd be disappointed, of that he was sure; he wasn't even a Jedi anymore. So many sins, so much regret - what he'd give to go back to the beginning, before he'd become Qui-Gon's lover and bond- mate - when he'd only been an apprentice and life had still made sense.
He was sixteen when he first began seeing Qui-Gon as more than just a Jedi Master, but also as an imperfect man who struggled with some of the same issues he did. He had this epiphany while on a mission to the planet of Koril, while attending the coronation ceremony of Princess Oren. He remembered standing in front of a mirror, much like this one, in the small quarters they'd been provided and giving a few final tugs to the folds of his dress whites, when he realized that Qui-Gon was standing at the door, watching him.
"Master, is this right," he asked, fingering a tuck on the tunic.
Qui-Gon came forward and smiled at his reflection reaching around Obi- Wan to make a tiny adjustment to the fabric. "Well done, my padawan learner."
"I hope I look – appropriate, Prince Drallig wants me to be his dance partner tonight," Obi-Wan said excitedly, smiling into the mirror as he thought about dancing with the handsome prince. "He's been so thoughtful, taking the time to teach me the local dance steps," Obi- Wan's smile suddenly faded, however, when a dark look passed over Qui- Gon's face.
"Vanity is unbecoming to a Jedi, and I will remind you that we are here on a mission not for fun," Qui-Gon said coldly. "Perhaps we should return to our rooms a bit early tonight to meditate on that."
"But Master," Obi-Wan started to protest, but was cut off by a quick retort.
"There will be no more discussion," Qui-Gon said, turning abruptly and leaving the room. Obi-Wan wanted to follow him and ask why it was wrong to want to please the prince who had been especially attentive to him in the last few days, but knew it was pointless to argue. His master's tone brooked no argument.
Obi-Wan was almost relieved by the time they left the celebration later that evening. His master ignored him throughout the ceremony and during most of the short time they'd spent at the celebration. However, when the Prince approached him to ask for a dance he felt Qui-Gon's eyes watching him intently. He declined the Prince's offer to dance and apologized shyly.
The Prince looked over at Qui-Gon and smiled knowingly. "Don't worry my beautiful little Jedi, I understand," and with that the handsome prince leaned down and kissed him squarely on the mouth.
Shortly after that, Qui-Gon made his apologies to the Queen and quickly led his padawan back to their rooms. Obi-Wan dreaded the meditation and lecture he knew was coming and took his time changing into his sleep pants. He carefully folded the dress uniform and put it away, then turned to Qui-Gon to ask if they were going to do their meditations here or on the balcony, but was rendered speechless when he found Qui-Gon staring at him, with that same dark expression he'd seen earlier.
"Go to bed," Qui-Gon said softly then walked out onto the balcony where he sank to his knees and began meditating.
Obi-Wan tossed and turned for hours reflecting on his master's strange behavior, until it suddenly dawned on him that the look he'd seen in his Master's eyes earlier in the day could have been jealousy. The thought filled Obi-Wan with an overwhelming excitement. He'd come to realize, in the last few months, that his feelings for Qui-Gon were more than that of a padawan for a master; that what he felt for the man was a deep abiding passion. It had never occurred to him that those feeling could be returned, but as he contemplated the events of the day, it suddenly seemed possible. With these delicious thoughts and possibilities swirling in his head, he finally fell asleep. If he'd only known then that the fulfillment of his fondest desire would lead to Qui-Gon's death and this hell he was living in.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, repressing a sob of anguish. He was just so tired; tired of always wanting something, someone he could never let himself have; always resisting the urge to go to the boy. Sometimes, most of the time he didn't understand why he did the things he did. Had he been looking for a way back? Had he wanted to be found, to have the decision and responsibility taken away from him? Is that why he came back to Coruscant?
Suddenly a feeling of overwhelming doom and despair overwhelmed him and he found himself gasping for breath. His stomach lurched and he rushed out on the balcony where he leaned over the railing. Looking down into the bowels of lower Coruscant, he emptied his stomach. The nausea finally abated, but his despair didn't. I don't want to fight anymore. I want this to end, right here right now. No more suppression bracelets or drugs, just silence and stillness, he thought as he looked down thousands of kilometers below him.
Obi-Wan stumbled back from the railing as far away as he could get. "No!" he whispered, terror ripping through him and panic clutching at his chest. He sank to his knees and despaired. What was wrong with him? He couldn't do it. The boy would suffer dearly if he killed himself. He had barely survived after Qui-Gon's death and he'd had a reason to fight; hatred and revenge. Anakin must live. He was loving and beautiful and perfect. He moaned at the thought of his beloved, and began pounding his fists against the top of his thighs fighting back the feeling of impotent frustration that gripped him.
He had to leave, he couldn't stay. The bond and the Force were too powerful here. He'd been weak, giving into the longing, the ache. He would leave tomorrow, damn the Senate and Velan. He'd go to this reception and pledge what financial support Renoi could offer to the SAB then book transport to somewhere else, somewhere further away. Perhaps Tatooine; they were cursed with Hutts there as well and he could rid that planet of their blight his own way, without being hampered with galactic laws or Jedi morals.
He breathed deeply, fighting for control and then nodded once he felt the calmness that certainty always gave him. It was decided. He'd leave tomorrow; head back to Renoi, collect his stuff and leave everything else behind. He pulled himself off the floor of the balcony and straightened his robe and leggings. He'd do what he'd always done -- run away -- but farther this time. He would go far enough away that no one would ever find him, and too far for him to find his way back.
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