Adumbration

Adumbration
by Alex
Part 11

He was dreaming of Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan...trembling and frightened in his arms, and for all of Qui-Gon's soothing words and tender caresses he would not be calmed...and then he was gone.
Qui-Gon was alone.
He awoke. Obi-Wan was gone from his bed, and Qui-Gon stifled a pang of disappointment. He would have loved the young man by his side every moment, sleeping and waking; now that their feelings for each other were clear, he wanted to drink Obi-Wan in, to watch him as he moved through the world with that grace that set him apart from the other apprentices...you're mooning, old man, he thought, and chuckled to himself. It must be love.
Rising, he went to the 'fresher, showered, and emerged feeling wonderful. He hummed tunelessly as he dressed and prepared to go to the archives. He knew little of Yrrna, and needed to do at least a full day's research.
His comm unit buzzed and he answered it. The solemn face of Mace Windu appeared before him.
"Mace."
"Qui-Gon." There was no pleasure in the man's voice. "Come to the Council Chamber at once." The image faded out.
Qui-Gon stared at the blank screen in bemusement. Was there a change of plan? Was his mission altered? He shrugged, pulled his boots on, and left for the Council Chamber.
An officious droid admitted him to the large circular room. He bowed and strode to the center of the chamber, facing Mace and Yoda. He frowned slightly; he'd caught flickerings of Force from some of the Councillors. None of them were particularly benevolent. He took in the faces of those in his line of vision. All were grave; some appeared visibly upset. Clearly something was wrong...
Mace addressed him.
"Do you know why you have been summoned before us, Master Jinn?"
Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. "No."
"The Council has learned some distressing news, Master Jinn."
Qui-Gon waited silently. Mace could be oblique at times.
"This concerns your apprentice."
Qui-Gon felt a faint stirring of uneasiness. Yoda gave him a hard gaze.
"You know, Qui-Gon."
Oh, indeed he did. How in all the hells had the Council found out so soon? He centered himself and spoke calmly. "Revered Masters," he began formally, "Padawan Kenobi and I have embarked on a relationship. I realize-"
"Relationship!" snorted Even Piell. "Is that what you call it?"
"Yes. We-"
"Spare us the explanation, Master Jinn. This is intolerable. We know. We have seen."
"I don't understand," said Qui-Gon sharply. "What have you seen?"
"Stand aside," ordered Mace. Qui-Gon stepped to one side, and a hologram, life-sized, came to life. Qui-Gon, shoving a bound Obi-Wan onto his bed. Obi-Wan struggling, crying out...
Qui-Gon blanched. His vision dimmed.
The hologram continued to play, the cries and moans a grotesque counterpoint to the silent Jedi and the thunder in Qui-Gon's ears.
"Turn it off!" someone implored. The hologram disappeared.
Qui-Gon took several deep, calming breaths as the Council stared at him. He folded his arms within the sleeves of his robe.
"How was this obtained?"
"How is hardly the point, I think, Master Jinn," said Adi Gallia. He turned and gazed at her. Her voice was mild, but her eyes snapped with barely concealed emotion.
"I find it reprehensible that someone would seek to defame my character and that of my padawan with such a hideous intrusion into our privacy. True, we have not been sanctioned by the Council, but-"
"Privacy?"
Qui-Gon was becoming increasingly irritated at the constant interruptions, but he remained outwardly calm and resolute. "Yes," he said firmly. "Privacy."
"You'd prefer that no one knew that you raped Padawan Kenobi."
Raped him? thought Qui-Gon, confused. What...oh. Oh, you damned fool. What does it look like? Qui-Gon drew himself up, nearly relieved. This would be unpleasant, but it was necessary. He would have liked to have given Obi-Wan some notice, though, so the young man wouldn't be unprepared.
Mace, watching Qui-Gon's face, shook his head. "Enough, Qui-Gon," he said. "Perhaps Padawan Kenobi can enlighten us."
So you summoned him too, thought Qui-Gon, as a side door opened.
Obi-Wan stepped into the Council Chamber, his hands folded inside his robe, an unconscious imitation of his master. Qui-Gon smiled at him warmly. Obi-Wan took his place by Qui-Gon's side, his face pale but composed.
/Courage, my love./
Obi-Wan did not acknowledge the sending.
"Obi-Wan Kenobi," said Ki-Adi-Mundi, "Today the Council has seen some evidence of abuse...your master, Qui-Gon Jinn, stands accused of rape."
Obi-Wan clapped both hands to his mouth. His eyes were huge.
Qui-Gon glared at Ki-Adi-Mundi. Gently done, Master, he thought angrily.
Yarael Poof spoke gently, his long neck swaying. "Don't be afraid to speak, Padawan. You are not on trial."
Obi-Wan let out a deep, shuddering breath.
"I...I didn't want to..." Tears filled his eyes, and he covered his face with his hands. "I didn't want to..."
Qui-Gon wheeled and stared at Obi-Wan in absolute shock.
/Obi-Wan!/
The young man sank to his knees, and a muffled sob escaped from behind his hands.
Qui-Gon sent to him in desperation. /Obi-Wan!/
Nothing but a tightly erected mental shield, and Qui-Gon wanted to weep himself.
/Padawan! Please...tell them.../
Again nothing, and Qui-Gon felt the world slipping sideways. Was this an illusion? Why wouldn't Obi-Wan speak up?
/My love...you asked me...was it not what you wanted?/
No answer, and as he listened to the young man's muted weeping, he was assailed by a crushing wave of guilt. Your fault, this is all your fault, he berated himself. He wasn't ready...he straightened, aware of the Councillors' eyes on him as one, unified in condemnation.
Qui-Gon wanted to rush to the young man and soothe his fears. The dream, he thought. Was this a portent? Yet he did not move. After all, it appeared as though he himself was the cause of Obi-Wan's fear. Obi-Wan would only repudiate him, and perhaps he deserved to be rejected. He was selfish, forcing himself on Obi-Wan before re-establishing the training bond.
But I didn't force myself on him. He wanted it...it appeared as though he wanted it...oh, gods above, what have I done?
Master Billaba had risen and approached Obi-Wan. She sank to the floor beside him and stroked his back gently. She looked at Mace. "I will escort Padawan Kenobi to the healing dome," she said, and Mace inclined his head. She rose, guiding Obi-Wan up and drawing his hood over his head. She shot a cold glance at Qui-Gon as they passed. Obi-Wan's face was hidden from view.
They left, and Qui-Gon remained, alone. He considered imploring them to look inside him, to search his soul, to seek the truth, when a cold shock of realization hit him.
They might seek the truth inside him, but the only truth they would find would be his own. His point of view. They would see a man who did not stop to consider Obi-Wan's feelings, a Master who ignored his Padawan's pleas. Never mind that Obi-Wan had been accepting and seemingly eager; Qui-Gon had failed him again, and this time on a more basic and personal level than before. This was more than a training bond; this was Obi-Wan's innocence. Qui-Gon had taken his pleasure, and he had not seen, not chosen to see Obi-Wan's hurt beneath the desire to please. Last night's abject display of submission...and Qui-Gon's face burned with shame. Obi-Wan had asked him, had begged him to stop, and Qui-Gon had ignored him, had basely satisfied his own desires.
He deserved the condemnation of the Council. He deserved their censure. He deserved any punishment that they would inflict upon him.
/My Padawan...my love...I am so sorry./
He did not...could not ask for forgiveness.
He bowed deeply.
"Revered Masters...I await your judgment."
Mace's eyes were hard, and it was as if he did not know Qui-Gon at all, as if he had never shared a friendship with him.
"Qui-Gon Jinn...you have struck a blow at the bond of trust between Master and Padawan. In doing so, you strike at the Code, indeed, at the Jedi Order itself. It is our judgment that you surrender your lightsaber and remove yourself from the Temple."
He paused, his eyes like ice.
"Qui-Gon Jinn...you are Jedi no more."
Depa Billaba stood beside Obi-Wan's bed, watching him carefully. He'd been settled into the infirmary with gratifying speed, and she felt a sharp wave of compassion as she looked at the poor boy, and an enormous anger toward Qui-Gon, who, despite his eccentricities, had always been an outstanding example to his fellow Jedi...until now, she thought, wondering about his failed Padawan, Xanatos. Had Qui-Gon raped him, too; had he caused the young man to turn to the Dark Side? Enough, she said to herself, and let her anger flow out of her. The damage was done; Qui-Gon's fate was sealed, and Force willing, Obi-Wan would not be too badly damaged...she fervently hoped not.
Obi-Wan lay in the narrow bed, huddled beneath blankets. Depa touched a cool hand to his forehead, and spoke softly.
"Master Khadri will see you shortly, Padawan," she said. "She will examine you."
"Must she?" His eyes were huge, with purple shadows beneath them, and a fresh wave of sympathy overtook her.
"I know it won't be pleasant, Obi-Wan," she said, smoothing his hair. "But it is for your benefit."
He sighed. "Yes, Master."
She frowned. "What happened to your tongue, Padawan?"
Obi-Wan looked away, and his reply was faint.
"Bitten."
She turned away so that Obi-Wan would not see the disgust and anger on her face. Damn you, Qui-Gon...he's just a boy. How could you?
"Master."
"Yes, Padawan?"
"I think you should leave now."
She looked down at him. He had the faintest of smiles on his face. He really had an enchanting smile, she thought.
"Perhaps I'd better go, Obi-Wan. Master Khadri will be here at any moment." She put a hand out, hesitated, and then turned and left.
The young man gazed after her, and his smile widened.
Obi-Wan had felt pain before.
It was an accepted part of a Jedi's training. Torn muscles, burns from training sabers, the occasional broken bone...once he'd taken a blaster shot in the leg on a mission to Dantooine; it had been excruciating, and had taken half a day in the bacta tanks to heal. Always the initiates had been taught to accept pain, to welcome it as a friend, a warning that the body was injured and in need of healing, so that one could focus on tending the hurt through the Force. All Jedi were instructed in the healing trance, and used it with varying degrees of skill. Obi-Wan did not have a healer's skill, but he was proficient enough in the Force to use the trance with some effectiveness.
And now, the Force was gone...torn from him.
Even so...there was no healing for this pain.
He watched the proceedings in the Council Chamber.
There was not a worse torture that Belial could have devised.
/Master...oh, my Master.../
No response, and nothing that he could do. He was utterly helpless, bound more by the damned collar around his neck than by the restraints that nevertheless bit cruelly into his already bruised and chafed skin.
Obi-Wan had never paused to consider that the Force would someday not be at his disposal. He'd dismissed tales of Force-inhibition as stories told by older initiates to frighten the children in the creche. He'd trusted, never questioned, not believing that in even the most preposterous legend there was often a seed of truth.
As he lay on the floor of his prison, that cold, alien presence stole in, swirled around him.
/There is no escape, Jedi.../
No...not again...
/Come to me./
/NO!/
/I feel your despair. You are lost. Your master is lost. Come to me./
He cast about for something, anything to help him, to save him from this...
/Come to me. You shall have your revenge on Darth Belial./
/Master! Help me!/
/I am your Master, Obi-Wan./
Oh, no, please, no...
He closed his eyes.
/Force help me/
He begged now, feeling the Darkness pull at his consciousness...
And worse, at his fragile soul.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11
Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20