DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc and 20th Century Fox. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.
"I must go with them, love, will you be all right here?”
Qui-Gon’s deep voice coats your ear, a welcome rumble. His warm hand lies on your leg, slightly above the knee, where it has remained during dinner. His head is turned towards yours, one half of his brown hair hanging over his front, the other half calmly lying against his back. His cloak is pushed back from his body, slightly encompassing your space. The cozy nest of a seat for two that you inhabit with him is filled to bursting with his large bulk and your slight one. His eyes are soft, loving and oh so deep blue in the lowered light that you suppress the urge to sigh.
“I will be fine,” you answer, touching his cheek. “Duty is calling, you must go.”
He nods and leans in to touch his warm lips to yours. His one hand lands on the table in front of you causing the plates to rattle. You tilt your head to capture what you are sure will be a short lived kiss, only to find yourself without the air to sustain the length of caress that he wants. His beard nuzzles your cheek and you snort a nose full of air. You capture the aroma of your arousal on his beard. Your eyes widen as you realize that he left this portion of you on himself deliberately, declining to wash it from himself.
“I will come and find you here in a few minutes- it should not be long. It is only a mission briefing, fifteen maybe twenty at the longest.” He adds, as his face pulls away. He rises and you watch as his bulk moves past the standing candelabras and the lit candles therein that cast lonely circles of light on the floor. His flowing cloak is the last thing that you see before the darkness swallows him. You are left only with the visual memory of his strained face above yours from hours before locked in the privacy of his quarters. You still shiver at the memory of the warmth of his quivering thighs between yours and the strength, width and length of his massive erection as it moved in and out of your body.
Several other members of the Order rise and follow after Qui-Gon, the whole lot of them advancing on the Council chamber not far beyond the yawning blackness of the hall. Soon, as the idle chatter falls away, you can here the low instrumental music playing in the background. It is reminiscent of the low chiming melodies played by the artists on Alderaan. It almost seems to float in the air and compares in your mind to crystal, resonant and clear. The heavy cloth covering the table lays against your leg and you allow yourself to feel its comfort now that Qui-Gon has passed on to the other room.
Dishes of varying size surround you on the table. The table set itself looks like a battlefield for the culinary arts – various breads, sauces and meats covered the table on various plates. The sole plate that you and Qui-Gon had shared sits just to your side and you smile. The Council seems very accepting of Master Jinn and your apparent bond and is encouraging of your involvement with each other. Although there were disapproving glances as you had licked Qui-Gon’s thumb clean when he fed you by his hand. You smile widens as you recall his grin.
“Sit with you, may I?”
You jolt from your thoughts to see the tiny green Jedi Master standing next to you with his walking stick and a very serious face.
“By all means, Master Yoda. Be should you not be in with…”
“A mission briefing, it is. Needed I am not.” He sighs as he levitates to the chair next to you. “Know you I do,” he starts, grunting as he sits.
“Since Qui-Gon’s third year as your Padawan, Master Yoda,” you supply with a wistful smile on your face. The aroma of the rose in your hair that your lover placed there comes to your attention with startling clarity.
The miniature Jedi Master nods thoughtfully. “Teach, you do. Teach of honesty and truth pursuits you do. Bureaucrats?”
“Yes, Master, the leaders of the planet. Philosophy, ethics and peace.”
“Tough, challenging…?”
“And needed, Master,” you answer, your hands folding in your lap, warmth upon warmth.
His nod is slow and his ears droop as he looks at you. “What say you about peace and Jedi?”
You close your eyes for a moment and sigh, thinking back to the long talks in your cottage with Qui-Gon. “That peace and Jedi are not synonymous, Master. Jedi fight for peace but might use fight to achieve those purposes. It is not an easy question, and not one that I have found that Jedi and I agree on. I live in peace; Alderaan lives in peace, and the Jedi fight for peace…it can be at odds. Ends justifying the means…”
“So think you to understand the man you love?”
Your eyes snap open and you glance through the low-lit space to Yoda. His eyes are half-open and are a clear gray across the area. The little being continues, opening his eyes wider. “A warrior, he is.”
“To me, he is not.”
“An impediment it has been. Leave Alderaan you would, live on Coruscant you would. Bond with him, only in times of rest you would see him. Great is your love…great is his. Submerse yourself in the gray world of ethics you would..”
“I could survive it, Master,” you say through gritted teeth.
“Come to see him as a warrior you will. At odds with his life, not his love it will be.” Yoda nods at you with a scowl. “Decisions not easy, young teacher. Soon to be made they are. If able to accept his life, then stay you will. But secrets will come out.”
Your breath leaves your lungs in a rush as you ease back against the bench back behind you. With a gasp, you levy toward him. “Master…”
“Think you that he will know his son?”
Lights and blackness swirl around your vision as your hearing collapses in on itself, ringing and tunneling. You feel smothered…
“Known I have, since came Obi-Wan did. Qui-Gon’s aura, Obi-Wan has. Knew not the mother until arrived you did. Told him not you have.”
Your quivering shake of your head and inability to swallow make the world feel as though it is tight and smothering. Yoda’s claw brushes at your sleeve. “Tell him, I will not. If told he was his destiny changed forever would be. If known to him give his life for his son, he will. Leave the Order he might. Foreseen this is, to withhold the knowledge. Love deeply, my padawan?”
You raise your eyes to the Master, tears forming and clouding your vision. They run down your cheeks, coursing tracks of heat and salt. “With my life..” you gasp, shifting on the chair. “Love him enough to let him keep his life. I knew that he would leave and stay with me if he knew about Obi-Wan before he was born. I could not allow him to be less than he is…”
“So gave your son to the Order you did. Gave him the same life his father has. Hard it is. Long it is…”
“And fulfilling,” you gasp. Tears fall quickly now, mindful only of their own course and oblivious to everything else. “Their full potential they achieve. The best education and the best training they receive….”
Yoda’s hand is gentle on your arm. “See your son, you should…”
“Not until I can walk away from him when I do,” you gasp. “It is too soon, now….too soon.”
“Then you will see him again another time. But know him you should.” Yoda leans back, observing you. “Watch out for him, I will.”
You breathe a thank you, keeping your head down.
“Bring out the best in my Padawan, you do. Bring out the best in you, he does. Meant for one another you are. Whether bonded or not…”
“Bond we will,” Qui-Gon’s rich voice booms in the space. Your head whips around to peer at the man you love, standing in the doorway.
Your appearance must alert him to trouble as he crosses you in three steps and gently grasps you chin. His thumb is gentle as he wipes your forgotten tears. “Master? Have you tortured my love? What is it my dear?”
Your hand lays on his for a moment as he strokes your skin. “Just mourning the pass of innocence, Qui-Gon. What is your business?”
His sigh is audible as his deep blue eyes widen to look at you with sadness. “I must leave within six hours. It will leave me enough time to return you to Alderaan. Mace and I have a mission. It will be dangerous and long, or I would leave you here. So risky I cannot take my new Padawan..”
“Xanatos?”
His nod is gentle. “Will you forgive me?”
“For your duty, I should hope not…” you sigh, holding his hand tighter. “Let us just sit and talk, then, here, with your Master. I have nothing to pack…”
His bulk folds into the chair with a sigh. The odor of musk and sex that you had gotten used to returns with him and you sigh with the familiarity of the smell. Yoda nods and hums lowly as Qui-Gon’s arm encircles your waist.
“Love you do.”
Both you and Qui-Gon remain silent, watching the being nod quickly. “Save you both, love will.”