Dark Time
by Nic (JediNic@bigfoot.com)
November 1999

Disclaimer: George Lucas owns Star Wars.

Note: Thank you Trinity for the feedback on later parts!



                            DARK TIME
                            ---------



It had been five years since Qui-Gon Jinn lost his apprentice, and
the pain was almost as fresh as it had been on that most
nightmarish of days.  The horror still haunted him, and it was
apparent just to look at his face: dull eyes, heavy lines, no sign
of the spark that once lived in the great Jedi Master.

He sighed heavily, looking out over the young temple initiates in
the arena before him, not really seeing any of them.  More than
ever, Qui-Gon wanted to leave this place and embark on another solo
mission, something he had become exceedingly good at in recent
years.  He had no desire to take on another padawan.  None
whatsoever.  Qui-Gon knew it would only end in disaster again.

But Yoda was sitting beside him, threatening to keep him planet
bound for months unless he at least looked at the young students. 
There was a sage expression on the green one's face as he too
surveyed the spectacle below them.  Pairs of students fought with
their lightsabers, trying their hardest to impress the masters who
were watching.

Almost against his will, Qui-Gon found his eyes drawn to a pair of
young men duelling in the centre of the arena.  One was much
taller, yet they seemed equally matched, fighting with an intensity
quite above that of their peers.  There was no doubt that both were
strong in the Force - but how could one ever be sure they  would
remain in the Light side?  How could Qui-Gon ever be sure that they
were safe?

"Trust in the Force," Yoda advised, perhaps picking up on his
sudden interest.  Qui-Gon scowled.  He refused to look at the pair
again, even as he felt his interest being drawn back to the floor,
to the shorter of the boys, the one with golden hair and a laughing
smile when he abruptly gained the upper hand against his opponent. 
The boy whirled and spun, and suddenly there was no doubt that he
was one with the light side of the Force; he was almost dancing
with his lightsaber and a wondrous spectacle to behold. 

No, he would not watch!  A pang shot through Qui-Gon's heart; the
boy's motion wasn't familiar yet it was intently so at the same
time, the attitude, the charisma, the things he missed so much and
he could only rage at himself for being so damn *careless* and as
a result, losing his padawan.
Qui-Gon leapt to his feet and, ignoring Yoda's outraged protests,
strode out of the hall.  He was a frightening figure, countenance
so stern, and no one dared oppose his passage as he stormed back to
his quarters.  Once inside, he sank into his favourite chair and
placed his head in his hands.  Feeling so alone.  But knowing that
he did not *dare* take another padawan.  Too much was at stake, the
future of a potential Jedi.  He would not lose another.

Even though something inside him yearned for it.  The part of his
mind, long empty of the training bond, was dead, cut off so
abruptly several years ago.  Qui-Gon knew that as long as he lived,
he would never forget that day, or the days that followed, the fear
which turned into horror and then a deep depression when nothing
could be done except accept the truth of what had happened.  And
try and move on.  Missions, endless missions, doing the work of the
Council in an attempt to distract him from the past.

Yet despite all of that, Qui-Gon still missed him.  And by now he
was accepting that he always would.  Perhaps Yoda was right,
perhaps he should take on another padawan.  But not yet, he wasn't
quite ready.

He closed his eyes, and the image of the initiates sprung into his
mind.  The boy, the star of the arena....

...and there was a tingle in the back of Qui-Gon's mind.  The
faintest brush, the most distant of sensations, yet there was no
belaying the fact that it was *there*, in the place of the training
bond, and Qui-Gon's eyes snapped open in a mixture of wonder and
outrage.

A bond?  Already?  It wasn't possible, he didn't even know the
boy's name, and he'd be damned if he'd be forced into taking
another padawan without making a conscious decision.  Qui-Gon
wasn't ready for this and as he fought against the bond, he felt it
slipping away, diminishing into almost nothingness.  Which was
good.  When only the tiniest of flickers remained, Qui-Gon got to
his feet and sought out Yoda.  Despite the joy the revival of that
part of his mind brought to him, he *would not* take another
apprentice.  Because taw apprentice would be doomed.

"Master, I-" Qui-Gon began, sinking to his knees, but Yoda
immediately interrupted him, a smile creeping over the wizened
face.

"Sense it, I do," he almost chuckled.  "The beginnings of a bond
you have."

"I do not want this!" burst out Qui-Gon in response.  "And today,
of all days!  It is sacrilegious to his memory!"

Yoda hobbled forward until he stood almost eye to eye with his
former student.  "Today?"

"Yes, today.  It is five years today since I lost him.  He would
have been twenty-one.  He would have almost been a Jedi."

Shaking his head, Yoda sighed.  "You mourn him still."

"Of course I mourn him, Yoda.  He was the brightest student I had
ever seen.  The Force flowed through him, he was filled with light
and laughter and..." Qui-Gon's voice threatened to break, "...he
brought more joy into my life than I ever thought possible.  He was
my best friend."

Yoda grunted.  "Let go, you must." A comforting hand reached out to
touch Qui-Gon's forehead, sending the vaguest images and
suggestions, suggestions which Qui-Gon violently objected to.  A
vision of a memorial ceremony, to formally lay Obi-Wan Kenobi to
rest.

"I refuse to believe that he is dead!" Qui-Gon burst out, his heart
aching.  He'd rejected such a ceremony time and time again, always
wanting to hold on to the hope that his apprentice would someday
return.

"No other explanation is there," Yoda said sadly.

"But I did not sense his death!" protested Qui-Gon.  His eyes
closed, the memories of that terrible day flooding back once again. 
There had been no warning.  Nothing.  Just a growing terror and
horror that would never leave him.  

He had been in meetings with the Council for most of the day,
giving Obi-Wan the rare day off, even as both of them had known
that Obi-Wan would spend most of the day in training anyway.  He
was the best young man Qui-Gon had ever known.

The Council meeting room had  Force shielded, as it was when
matters of utmost secrecy were discussed.  As a result, Obi-Wan's
bond with his master had been blocked for most of the day.  And
when Qui-Gon exited the chambers, somehow, he had forgotten to
actively look for it.

By the time he'd realised the bond was dormant, it was late evening
and Obi-Wan had not returned to their quarters as expected. 
Surmising that perhaps Obi-Wan was in a Force-shielded area, Qui-
Gon had attempted to contact him on his communications device.  No
answer.  Nor was there an answer from the libraries, or the
training arenas, or anywhere that Qui-Gon quickly contacted to
locate his apprentice.

Not that he was panicking just yet.  He trusted Obi-Wan, and what
could possibly happen to a Jedi on Coruscant, home of the most
talented Jedi in the galaxy?  Besides, Qui-Gon reassured himself,
he sensed no pain along their bond.  Not even the fuzziness of
unconsciousness.  And there certainly *wasn't* the searing pain
that would have resulted if Obi-Wan was dead.
There was just nothing.  Emptiness.  As if Obi-Wan had not just
vanished out of Qui-Gon's life, it was as if he had never existed.

And when he realised *that*, Qui-Gon began to get extremely worried
indeed.  He raced through the temple, then the gardens, then the
surrounding area, madly asking every person if they had seen Obi-
Wan at all that day.  Many had, and Qui-Gon was eventually able to
reconstruct Obi-Wan's last day.

Lightsaber practice with Bant.  Time spent in the library
researching a project Qui-Gon had given him.  Lunch.  Then
presumably meditation for several hours, until he had gone out into
the gardens about mid-afternoon.

After that, no one had seen him.  Qui-Gon searched the gardens time
and time again, both physically and using the Force, but always,
there was nothing.  Even if Obi-Wan had been taken against his will
there should have been some sign, or sense of a struggle. 
Anything.  Growing more frantic with each passing hour, Qui-Gon
roused the entire Jedi Council from their beds to help him search
as the hours of the night turned into dawn.  

No trace of Obi-Wan Kenobi was ever found.

But to the present day, Qui-Gon refused to believe he was dead,
even after so long had passed.  Even as each long day had turned
into a week, or a month, and the investigation was called off, no
evidence or motive ever being found.  Even when Obi-Wan's name was
taken off the assignment roster.  Even when Yoda suggested Qui-Gon
remove Obi-Wan's things from their quarters and pack them away.

Qui-Gon had refused to do this.  The door to Obi-Wan's room
remained closed, but inside it was intact, right down to the
hastily made bed and datapad thrown on top of it.

And that, in part, was another reason Qui-Gon could not take on a
new apprentice.  Accepting a new padawan meant that Obi-Wan was
truly gone; and that was almost enough of a reason within itself.

Yoda sighed heavily, picking up on Qui-Gon's thoughts easily.  "A
tragedy it was," he agreed, "but insist I *must* that you move on. 
Already, the Force has willed that take on a new apprentice you
shall."

"But what if I doom him as well?" Qui-Gon asked, more to himself
than Yoda.  "I have already lost two."

"And how many do you think *I* have lost?" returned Yoda,
exasperated.  "Happens, it does.  Accept the will of the Force, we
do, and move on."  He harrumphed.  "I move on.  You must too."

Qui-Gon bowed his head, recognising the truth behind Yoda's words,
and the pain.  Even Yoda, the greatest of them all, had lost
apprentices during his 800 years of training them.  Perhaps it was
time for him to begin over.

"I will listen to the Force, Master," Qui-Gon acquiesced, again
feeling the faint tingling in his mind.  "But it will take time."

"Have time you do," Yoda said, "but that boy down there is
waiting."

"I shall consider it."

Yoda managed one more heavy sigh before turning from Qui-Gon and
shuffling back to his chair.  Qui-Gon took this as a signal to
leave and did so, bowing low before he left.  

His mind was whirling as he walked down the corridors, wondering if
Yoda's advice had done him any good.  It seemed the new bond was
not to be denied.  But how could he accept it?  

Perhaps it *was* time to put the past behind him.  Time to stop
hoping and accept the truth.  His heart heavy with loss, but a
spring in his footsteps, Qui-Gon returned to the arena where the
children still played.  Suddenly he had a reason to go on.

Qui-Gon greeted Mace Windu with a smile, and the surprise on Mace's
face was obvious.  

"Has it truly been so long since I smiled?" Qui-Gon asked him and
Mace nodded gravely in response.  

"It is good to see you here, Qui-Gon," Mace said, subtly conveying
much more with the message.  "Would you like to meet the students?"

"Yes, I think I should like that very much."  Mace led him over to
the master's area where they could converse quietly for a moment
before formal introductions were made.  The Council member pointed
out several promising students to Qui-Gon and Qui-Gon found himself
really listening for once, despite the fact that his attention was
drawn to the blonde boy who reminded him a little of Obi-Wan.

"Ca-Bral Randis," said Mace, finally giving him a name.  "He is the
most promising student we have seen for years.  Many masters are
interested in taking Ca-Bral as a padawan, but I feel he is still
a little young.  He is only ten."  

"He carries himself with the authority of one much older," Qui-Gon
noted.

"Yes," Mace quietly agreed, shooting an intent look at Qui-Gon
which Qui-Gon ignored. 

"I believe you said something about introductions?"

The two masters left the safety of their area and joined the
students who had just completed their levitation exercises.  "Good
afternoon," Mace said.  "I would like to introduce you to Master
Qui-Gon Jinn, who has been offworld for several months."

A chorus of polite responses reached Qui-Gon's ears and he smiled
at the children, his eyes on Ca-Bral and his friends.  "I would
like to spend time with you all," he said.  "Would you show me what
you were doing?"

Throughout the rest of the afternoon, Qui-Gon immersed himself in
the children's' exercises as masters often did when they were
seeking a new padawan, or just getting to know the temple
initiates.  A master was always welcome, as he could teach them
many things they did not fully understand.

Qui-Gon kept a subtle eye on Ca-Bral the whole time, not wanting to
single the boy out, but carefully assessing his abilities and his
interaction with the others.  There was no doubt that Ca-Bral was
special.  However, Qui-Gon did not dare to reach into the
beginnings of the bond in his own mind, because Ca-Bral was
completely unaware of it and Qui-Gon refused to accelerate the
process until the time was right.

As the afternoon drew to a close, a small girl crept closer to Qui-
Gon with a shy smile on her face.  "Thank you, Master Qui-Gon.  It
was fun this afternoon," she said softly, before reaching forward
and embracing him tightly.  As the small arms slipped around him
Qui-Gon smiled.  He had missed this, the simple closeness of
another person, and the innocent love of a child.  He returned the
hug gently, saying, "I was honoured to be with you all."

"Will you come again?" Jessi-myn, the little girl, asked.

"You can be sure of it," promised Qui-Gon, his eyes on Ca-Bral. 
Ca-Bral steadily smiled back.

And Qui-Gon left the training rooms with a the hints of a grin on
his face, light in his eyes.  So long he had been closed away from
everyone, yet a little girl had broken down his defences so easily. 
Qui-Gon realised how much fun he'd had with the children, it was
something so different from what he'd done for the past few years. 
Obi-Wan used to encourage him to spend time with the temple
initiates, but Obi-Wan was gone.

And Qui-Gon resolutely put that thought out of his head,
concentrating instead on the future, and the promise of bringing up
one special person in the Force.  His search was over.  It was time
for life.  

He dined with the masters that evening and was heartened to see
Jessi-Myn smiling and waving at him, and Ca-Bral gave him a
respectful nod from across the room.  Yoda obviously sensed Qui-
Gon's mood change and gave him an approving glance.

"You were right, my master," Qui-Gon acquiesced.  "I have been
wallowing in the past.  I shall endeavour to focus on the moment
from now on, the moment which shall lead to the future."

"Good," Yoda granted, and nothing more on the matter was said.  For
the first time in what seemed forever, Qui-Gon laughed with the
other masters, enjoying the tales of their padawans' mishaps
instead of resenting them.  Soon, perhaps, he could add his own
stories to theirs. 

And the tingle in Qui-Gon's mind repeatedly brought a fresh smile
to his face.  He could not deny it, he felt alive again.   

He could not go back to his quarters that night, they were dull,
filled with ghosts and memories, and so he went to the gardens, to
think.  He had a lot to consider; it was impossible that his life
could turn around in one day but it was certainly the beginning of
something new.  

Qui-Gon paused at the gardens' entrance and inhaled deeply,
detecting the sweet sense of jasmine mixed with the sultry
fragrance of a warm night.  This was one of the most beautiful
places on Coruscant, and deeply in tune with the Force.  Peace
could be found in here.

His feet found a familiar path and he wandered, quietly, silently,
revelling in the quiet made possible by shields around the area. 
It wasn't dark, for that was near-impossible on Coruscant given the
amount of illumination from both the orbiting ships and the moons,
however, it was most certainly night.  A night to embrace, a night
to revel in.

He wandered through the wooded area and came to a clearing, pausing
to study the night-blossoming Itini flower.  The smell was heavenly
and he breathed it deeply, accepting, living in the moment.  He was
dully aware of the tallness of the trees behind him and the edge of
the park before him.  Children played there during the day, on the
swings and the slides and the "castle", but for now, it was silent.

And there was a man sitting on the swing.

Qui-Gon froze.  His eyes were riveted to that spot, the tall figure
with his back to Qui-Gon sitting comfortably, arms holding the
ropes, feet trailing in the sand as he rocked backwards and
forwards.  

The longish golden-red hair, highlighted by the nightly glow.  The
braid trailing over the back shoulder.  The cloak, clearly three
sizes too small, stretching over his back.

And the sound of his breathing, or was that his beating heart, or
was it Qui-Gon's own that Qui-Gon was hearing?

Qui-Gon stared, refusing to believe what he was seeing, refusing to
hope, refusing to accept the knowledge that every part of his body
was screaming was true.  He should turn, close his eyes, and the
apparition would disappear, it was nothing more than a cruel trick
of the light.

But his heart was singing and the tingle in his mind was bursting
into full bloom and Qui-Gon suddenly recognised what it was.  The
bond.  It wasn't with the temple initiate whose name Qui-Gon could
no longer remember.  It was with the person who sat, unaware,
before him.

Half petrified, half overjoyed, Qui-Gon took a tentative step
forward.  If this was an illusion he didn't want to destroy it. 
But he had to speak, he had to say something.  As he opened his
mouth, Qui-Gon realised he was trembling and the words would not
come.  

A step forward, and then another, the soft crunching of his
footsteps on the grass *had* to reach the ears of the man on the
swing, didn't it?  If only he would turn, if only he could see the
face, those eyes, to know that it wasn't a phantom.  

And he turned.

And Qui-Gon looked into those familiar blue-green eyes and felt his
heart stop.

And Obi-Wan stood and walked over to him, steadying him with a firm
grip on his arms and the universe was right again.

"Hello, Master," Obi-Wan said softly, formally.

A thousand questions raced through Qui-Gon's mind.  Where have you
been?  Are you all right?  How did you get back?  When did you come
back?  Are you real?  Why did you leave?

But in the end, he could say nothing of this, only managing to
enfold Obi-Wan into his arms and murmur, "Padawan."

Obi-Wan awkwardly accepted the hug and Qui-Gon reflected how
different he felt.  Five years ago a boy had gone missing and now,
a man had returned.  Obi-Wan was much taller and had gained a
sturdy, muscular frame.  No longer gawky, he was a beautiful young
man and even as he recognised that, Qui-Gon felt a flood of
confusion.  It was Obi-Wan back, but was it *his* Obi-Wan?  Or was
it a strangely different person in a familiar form?

Finally, Qui-Gon felt strong enough to let go, but still he
trembled and nothing could stop the pounding of his heart.  He was
too old for a shock like this...

"You are not old, Master," Obi-Wan said easily, and then Qui-Gon
froze with the surprise of the old bond being restored so quickly. 
It didn't make sense, *none* of it made sense, because for the past
five years there had been *nothing* in his mind!
Qui-Gon stared at Obi-Wan and his former apprentice stared back at
him.  Obi-Wan's eyes were open wide with confusion as he seemed to
take in Qui-Gon's appearance, and then his own, for the first time. 
One hand tugged uselessly at a sleeve which was far too short for
his arm.  

"I-" Obi-Wan began, and then seemed lost for words.  He looked
around at the gardens in bewilderment.  "You-"

"Obi-Wan, tell me," Qui-Gon finally found his voice.  "How do you
feel?"

"I feel fine," he answered, slowly, deliberately.  "But I am very
confused."  He swayed slightly and Qui-Gon took Obi-Wan's hands in
his own, the contact providing an anchor for both of them.  "How is
it that I come to be here?"

Qui-Gon sighed.  "I was hoping you could answer that question for
me.  Obi-Wan, where have you been?"

The gaze that met his was empty, lost and frightened.  "Nowhere,"
he said softly.  And then he frowned, closing his eyes.  "I have
been away," Obi-Wan realised.  His grip on Qui-Gon's fingers
strengthened.  "But there is nothing in my mind - Master, it's
nothing but an empty black hole!"  His voice rose, desperate, so
frightened and again Qui-Gon pulled him forward into a comforting
embrace.  One hand rubbed up and down Obi-Wan's back as Obi-Wan
buried his face in Qui-Gon's shoulder, and Qui-Gon could feel how
very very scared Obi-Wan was.

"It will be all right, Padawan," he soothed, pressing a soft kiss
to the top of Obi-Wan's head and reflecting that even that gesture
was now different.  "I am here for you.  Together, we will find out
what has happened, but for now, rest assured that you are safe."

Yet with the icy feeling that settled over his heart, Qui-Gon found
that he could not yet believe it.  

He held Obi-Wan closer, although it hardly seemed possible, but
even that contact was not enough.  It could not erase the gnawing
emptiness within Obi-Wan which was reflected across their bond, the
hollow space that threatened to draw Qui-Gon down into it.  And
there was no denying the utter sense of *wrongness* about it all. 

They stood together, breathing, existing, alive.  Living in the
moment with no reason to speak, for what could be said?  More
useless assurances?  Words did nothing against forces that could
not be seen, let alone comprehended.  Yet for some reason, as they
stood together, Qui-Gon felt a little safer.  He was protecting
Obi-Wan and he would never let him go again.  And if they had to
stand there all night to convince themselves of the fact, Qui-Gon
was quite happy to do so.  

After a time, Qui-Gon forced his eyes to open, looking beyond this
strange new Obi-Wan to the peaceful gardens which surrounded them,
the gardens which had, for all intents and purposes, stolen five
years of Obi-Wan's life.  Five years.  How could anyone go on after
that?  And Qui-Gon's fear that Obi-Wan could now never be a Jedi
returned.

Despite the bond, he barely knew the young man, and Obi-Wan could
not know him anymore.  Qui-Gon had changed, each experience on his
own had made its mark on his psyche, adjusting his perceptions on
life and the universe in general.  He found himself wondering if
Obi-Wan would accept that, until he remembered that it was foolish
to be worrying about himself.  It wasn't his future which was at
stake. 

"Master," Obi-Wan finally spoke, using the familiar title, the only
one he knew.  "What is going to happen now?"   He did not release
his hold but Qui-Gon was nonetheless aware that Obi-Wan was quietly
reviewing his new state.  

"We will complete your training," Qui-Gon answered with as much
confidence as he could muster.  

"But-" and the muffled words coming from Qui-Gon's chest held more
than a hint of despair, "I am too old.  I must be too old.  If a
Padawan is not knighted by the time he is twenty-one, he is not
suited to the path.  I am nowhere near ready!"

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said firmly, taking the younger man's face in
his hands and forcing him to look up, "there are always exceptions. 
I promise, you will become a Knight.  You have spent your entire
life working for it."

Tears filled Obi-Wan's eyes as he roughly shook his head, forcing
Qui-Gon to loosen his hold.  "No.  I haven't."

"You have, Obi-Wan.  You must listen to me."

The traumatised eyes closed and pain again crossed Obi-Wan's face. 
"There is a *hole* in my mind, Qui-Gon!  Who knows what I have been
doing?  I must be tainted, I cannot be a Jedi now.

"It isn't fair," he continued bitterly.  

"No, it isn't fair," agreed Qui-Gon, attempting to soothe his
former padawan.  "However, we must accept that it has happened. 
Obi-Wan, please believe me when I tell you this - your return has
brought me the greatest joy and I refuse to presume it could be
something bad."  Again, he caressed Obi-Wan's cheek and he noted
that it was smooth, freshly shaven, but by whom?  

One of Obi-Wan's hands released its hold on Qui-Gon and came up to
cover the hand on his cheek.  "Master, I cannot believe that until
I understand what has happened."  Changeable eyes met steadfast
blue, yet it seemed each of them was clinging to the other through
the gaze.  "How long have I been gone?" Obi-Wan finally asked.

Qui-Gon swallowed nervously, wondering if Obi-Wan's tenuous hold on
his composure would last through the revelations that followed. 
"You have been gone for five years.  You are twenty-one years old."

Obi-Wan nodded, almost distantly. "Five years," he repeated, and
then stepped back to look down at himself.  "I have no knowledge of
this body, and yet-"

"What?" Qui-Gon pressed, eager to encourage memories to surface.

"And yet it seems intimately familiar.  You, Master, I do not
recognise."

It hurt to hear those words, but Qui-Gon bore them with stoicism. 
All that mattered was that Obi-Wan was back, and whatever changes
resulted in their relationship, he could still draw comfort from
the fact that Obi-Wan was *alive* and Qui-Gon hadn't necessarily
failed after all.  

"Please understand, Master, I mean no disrespect.  I am attempting
to explain that," he paused for a breath, "- that even though the
last thing I recall is sitting on that very swing while you were in
meetings with the Jedi Council, part of me also knows that I am
older."  Again Obi-Wan surveyed his new body, one hand tugging on
the extraordinary length of the padawan braid.  "My memories end at
age sixteen, but my mind is older."

And that was both a relief and a frightening thing to hear. 
Relief, because Obi-Wan was not a boy trapped in the wrong body,
but fear, because it revealed that Obi-Wan had definitely
experienced something during the missing time and there was no
guarantee of a good effect on his psyche.  Qui-Gon intently watched
Obi-Wan, saying, "Please, continue."  

"And you, Master.  I know you but I do not."  Obi-Wan frowned, as
if trying to decide how to put it into words.  "Your physical
appearance is changed slightly but you are still my master.  Your
sense in the Force is the same, you feel the same, and," Obi-Wan
looked down, seemingly a little embarrassed, "you smell the same. 
But there are parts of your mind that I have never touched before
and things that are so different and it just feels wrong!"

"You will have much to get used to," Qui-Gon said.  He glanced
around, noticing the night was wearing on, but having no particular
desire for sleep.  "And much to learn.  There have been many
changes during your absence."

"I know," Obi-Wan said soberly.  He turned, looking at the swing,
and shuddered.  "I felt so safe on that swing before but now I find
I am unable to go near it."

"Then walk with me, Padawan," Qui-Gon invited, taking Obi-Wan's
hand in his.  "Ask all the questions you want to and I will
answer."  Together, they began down the forested path, leaving the
eerily rocking swing far behind them.

The first question was also the one at the front of Qui-Gon's own
mind.  "Will the Council allow you to continue training me?"

At Qui-Gon's hesitation, Obi-Wan looked at him with wide,
frightened eyes and Qui-Gon could clearly see the traces of the boy
he had lost. 

"Have you taken another apprentice?"

And those words brought Qui-Gon's entire day rushing back to him. 
"No, Obi-Wan," he immediately reassured.  "I could not, I was
convinced I would never find another padawan to replace you."

Obi-Wan picked up on the past tense.  "And?"

Sighing, Qui-Gon wondered again at the mysterious workings of the
Force.  "Today Yoda convinced me to consider it.  Not to replace
you, but to train another young mind in the ways of the Force.  I
admit that if you had not returned, I would be on my way to
accepting another apprentice."

"Oh."

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, his voice low and fierce, "I could never
have replaced you in my heart.  You are the best person I have ever
known.  I mourned your loss for the entire time and every day I
hoped that you would be returned.  And now that wish has been
granted."

"Granted how?" Obi-Wan returned.  "As much as you may wish it, I am
*not* the boy who went away and you are *not* the master I
remember.  Things are different."  Obi-Wan, now angry, increased
his pace so that Qui-Gon had to hurry to keep up with him.  "You
said I was the best person you knew.  That was *then*.  I am no
longer so innocent, Master.  Somehow, I have become an adult and
with that comes an entirely new side to my personality!"

"I will accept that," Qui-Gon quickly said, tugging on the held
hand to make Obi-Wan slow if even a little.  "And I will make every
attempt to get to know this new part of you."

"Part?"  Obi-Wan frowned.  "What if it is all of me that has
changed?  How can you stand to have a bond with a stranger?"  He
shook his head, violently.  "I want to scream, Master!"

"Then do so."

Obi-Wan gave into the frustration, his howl more of an anguished
shout than anything else.  "I just wish I could remember
*something*!  There's not even a deliberate piece of my memory
missing; I have to hunt for it.  My mind tells me that this morning
we dined in our quarters, this afternoon I went to the park, and I
sat on that swing for several hours until you found me.

"I was waiting for you, Master, but I do not know why!"  He kicked
at the ground, viciously.  "For hours I just *sat* there, and part
of me wondered why I didn't bother getting up and moving, but the
rest of me just...sat.  Do you know how useless I feel because of
that?"

Qui-Gon chose to overlook Obi-Wan's accusing words.  "I felt your
return," he realised, dismayed at his earlier ignorance.  How could
he possibly have confused it as a bond with another?  And a more
frightening realisation arose from that: perhaps Obi-Wan was truly
different.  "The tingling at the back of my mind.  We are still
bound to each other even if we do not know the other's true heart." 
Qui-Gon took a deep breath, calming himself with the sensation of
Obi-Wan's touch, strange though it was.  "Will you trust me, Obi-
Wan?"

"And that's the problem, isn't it," Obi-Wan spat bitterly.  "Every
fibre of my being is screaming yes, I trust you with my life.  But
my mind knows that you couldn't save me from whatever happened and
that I don't even know you anymore so how can I trust you?"

"The bond-" Qui-Gon tried.

"The bond could be nothing more than a remnant."  Obi-Wan tossed
his braid over his shoulder in an attempt to appear confident but
it only betrayed his aloneness. "I do not know what I am capable
of, Qui-Gon Jinn.  I suggest that the question should not be do I
trust you, but do you trust me?"

And with a growing horror, Qui-Gon realised that Obi-Wan was right. 
He tried to reach out through the Force to touch Obi-Wan's mind but
now there were fragile walls around the swirling confusion as Obi-
Wan's strength and confidence returned.  

"The Force will guide us," said Qui-Gon almost by rote, hoping that
the words he'd been taught were truth.  Obi-Wan only laughed
bitterly and pulled his hand from Qui-Gon's, severing the link
between them.  Qui-Gon felt everything spinning out of control. 

"I gave my life to the Force and look what happened."  Obi-Wan
stalked ahead, then paused and turned back to look at Qui-Gon.  He
had nowhere to go.

"It is late," Qui-Gon tried, his voice calm, not betraying the
inner turmoil he was experiencing because everything Obi-Wan had
said was *right*.  "We should sleep, and go see the Jedi Council
tomorrow."

A flicker of a smile at that, for Master Teluna, who had discovered
Obi-Wan's Force sensitivity and brought Obi-Wan to the Temple, was
on the Council.  Or more correctly, she had been.  "Obi-Wan, I
don't know how to tell you this..."

...and it seemed Obi-Wan again picked up on his thoughts.  "She's
dead, isn't she."  The words were flat and bitter.  Obi-Wan seemed
resigned to the pain.  "I suppose I will have to get used to
finding out that everything, everyone, I knew and loved is gone."

"I will help you," Qui-Gon offered, feeling useless.  "Come with me
now, Obi-Wan.  You should rest.   You have been through a great
deal today."

'Today', what did that word mean to Obi-Wan anyway?  But with
nothing to do and nowhere else to go except wander the cursed
gardens, Obi-Wan followed Qui-Gon to the exit.  Into the buildings
which were the same, yet different.  To his former quarters he
shared with Qui-Gon, yet he felt as if he had never left them.

"I know," Qui-Gon said softly as Obi-Wan paused at the door, for
Obi-Wan's mental shields had been down.  "This is still your place,
for as long as you wish it to be."

Tiny rooms but to Qui-Gon they had never seemed better, because
despite the confusion and the pain, there was no denying the fact
that Obi-Wan was finally *home*.

***

There was a stranger in his house.  That was the first thought Qui-
Gon had as he opened his eyes on the next day, some part of his
mind noting distantly that it was quite late in the morning
already, but this thought was overridden by confusion at the sounds
coming from the tiny kitchen.

Yet before the bewilderment could take firm hold, Qui-Gon felt the
comforting presence in his mind and he remembered Obi-Wan and he
smiled.  No matter what happened now, he could rest easy in the
knowledge that Obi-Wan was alive.  

Idly, Qui-Gon rubbed his neck and reflected it was quite sore, with
good reason.  After ensuring Obi-Wan was safely tucked in bed (and
carefully not mentioning the fact that Obi-Wan's feet hung over the
edge, something they were both glaringly aware of), he had sat by
Obi-Wan's bedside, not saying a word, just being there as a
comforting presence.  And to hear Obi-Wan breathing deeply in sleep
had been just as comforting to Qui-Gon.

He didn't know how many hours he'd sat there before he'd dropped
off to sleep in his sitting position and woken with a very stiff
neck.  A quick check on Obi-Wan revealed that he was still sleeping
peacefully with no hint of a nightmare, so Qui-Gon felt confident
of returning to his own room.  Besides, there was still the ever-
present bond between them that would alert him to Obi-Wan's
distress should it arise.
Another clanking noise distracted Qui-Gon from his thoughts and he
supposed he should get up.  He quickly pulled on his robe, usually,
he would not have bothered with such a gesture but there was a new
person in the house, one who might not have been comfortable with
seeing Qui-Gon in nothing but his sleeping pants.

He needn't have bothered, because the first step out of his door
reminded Qui-Gon that he was overdressed in comparison to Obi-Wan. 
The sight was almost comical.  None of Obi-Wan's old clothing
fitted him, including the clothes he'd reappeared in.  The previous
night Qui-Gon had lent him a tunic and pants but despite Obi-Wan's
new height, they still did not fit him.  

Obi-Wan had rolled up the sleeves of the tunic but had not managed
(or bothered) to make it stay shut at the front.  Likewise, the
pants were rolled up at the ankles and were slung dangerously low
on his hips, exposing a tanned, taught abdomen.  And Qui-Gon
realised he was staring.

He dropped his eyes quickly just as Obi-Wan looked up from the
coffee he was preparing.  "Good morning, Master Jinn," Obi-Wan said
formally.  

"Good morning," Qui-Gon returned, not quite sure what to call Obi-
Wan.  'Padawan' seemed the most natural but neither could be sure
of returning to their former relationship and in the light of the
day, all the insecurities and problems suddenly seemed much more
real.  

He crossed the room and inhaled the scent of the proffered drink. 
A small smile crossed his face, obviously, Obi-Wan had not
forgotten how he liked it.  "Thank you," he said sincerely.  Obi-
Wan merely shrugged.  

Qui-Gon walked to the table and seating himself in his customary
chair, noting that the other chair didn't have to remain empty on
this morning, and thankfully, Obi-Wan soon slid into it.  He moved
with a bewitching grace, no longer a gawky teenager insecure of his
body, and Qui-Gon reflected that it was another change he approved
of.  

"When will we see the Council?" Obi-Wan suddenly asked, startling
Qui-Gon out of his reverie.

The master paused, frowning.  "I should contact them."

A moment's hesitation, and then Obi-Wan offered, "I could call
them."  Qui-Gon saw a trace of the old Obi-Wan, the apprentice who
had always been so willing to take on what he perceived were adult
tasks and therefore important.  He flashed a warm smile at the
younger man. 

"I appreciate the offer, Obi-Wan, however I feel they would be more
than a little surprised and offended to find a holo of someone they
consider dead speaking to them."

"Oh."  Obi-Wan drummed his fingers on the tabletop.  "I expect many
people believe I am dead."

"I am sure you will enjoy proving them wrong," Qui-Gon said by way
of encouragement.  "I know I certainly will."

"Yes Master," Obi-Wan replied, the words a method of locking away
his true emotions.  

The knocking at the door startled them both.  Qui-Gon took one more
sip of his drink before rising to answer it, noting that Obi-Wan
too had half arisen before uncomfortably settling back down.  The
knee-high figure that greeted Qui-Gon should not have been a
surprise.

"Right I was," Yoda said, nodding sagely as he peered in at Obi-
Wan.  "He has returned."

"Come in, my master," Qui-Gon said, gesturing inwards but Yoda
resolutely shook his head.

"No, Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan must come with me."  He beckoned and Obi-Wan
was compelled to respond, shooting a quick glance at Qui-Gon which
projected a mixture of hesitation, confusion, fear and relief.  

Qui-Gon was almost afraid to ask his next question of Yoda, but he
pressed on.  "You knew Obi-Wan was alive?"  He tried to make it
sound as if it wasn't an accusation.

"Not until last night," answered Yoda.  "Felt a pulse in the Force,
I did, when your bond rejoined.  Felt the fear and confusion."  His
eyes narrowed, staring intently at Obi-Wan.  "The Council must
learn what happened to your padawan before we can be sure."

The sentence was deliberately cryptic and Qui-Gon chose not to
pursue it, convinced that Yoda was not saying more for fear of
hurting Obi-Wan.  Which was entirely reasonable.  Still, Qui-Gon
did not appreciate the implication that Obi-Wan was unsafe to be
around, that Obi-Wan had been touched by the dark side.

"I will accompany you to your meeting with the Council," Qui-Gon
said quickly.  "If you would give me a moment to properly dress..."

"Unnecessary, that is," Yoda interrupted, thumping his gimmer stick
on the ground.  "We will speak to Obi-Wan alone."

"At least allow me to find him some clothes!" Qui-Gon protested,
stalling for time as he picked up on a wave of fear emanating from
Obi-Wan.  

"Clothing matters not.  Judge me by my clothes, do you?"

The words did what they were intended to do, to make both Qui-Gon
and Obi-Wan smile at the oft-repeated, in various permutations,
phrase.  "Nonetheless, please allow me to find a robe at least for
Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon tried again.  He lowered his voice for Yoda's
ears only.  "Otherwise I fear many will stare if they can see that
it is truly Obi-Wan who has returned."

Yoda grunted, but granted Qui-Gon this.  Qui-Gon quickly went to
his room and selected the smallest of his robes, not that there was
much difference between it and the largest.  He returned to the
outer room and cautiously draped it around Obi-Wan's shoulders,
careful not to enforce any unwanted touch on the younger man. 
After the initial intimacy of the previous night, a gulf between
them had arisen from their strange new relationship.

However, it seemed Obi-Wan was grateful for the gentle touch, or at
least the robe.  He wrapped it around himself and pulled up the
hood, hiding himself.  Qui-Gon nodded in satisfaction and even Yoda
appeared to approve.

"You will contact me as soon as you learn anything?" Qui-Gon urged,
not wanting to let Obi-Wan go.

"When the time is right, contact you I will," Yoda granted and
again returned his attention to the silent, robed figure.  "Obi-
Wan, leave now we must."

Obi-Wan bowed in acquiescence and, not even giving Qui-Gon a
parting glance, trailed after the small Jedi Master.  Qui-Gon's
heart went with him, hoping desperately that the Council could
unlock the secrets of Obi-Wan's mind and discover that there was
nothing to fear.

Even if there was darkness, Qui-Gon knew that the Council would
help.  There was no other possibility.  Or more correctly, Qui-Gon
would not consider any other possibility.  

For the thousandth time he told himself, this time aloud, "Obi-Wan
is alive.  That is all that matters."

Yet this time, he found he could not quite believe it.

*

Obi-Wan opened his eyes, confused.  Everything around him seemed to
be shaking, the floor itself was tilting at an impossible angle as
the ship's stabilisers struggled to cope.  His hands flailed to
catch on to something but no purchase was found and Obi-Wan thudded
heavily into the wall.

The wall.  Of the docking bay.  Right next to the bay's
decompression controls.  Obi-Wan shook his head, trying to erase
the fogginess and the terrible dread that was settling over his
heart because he had absolutely *no* idea of how he had come to be
here.

The last he remembered was retiring to his small room onboard Eeth
Koth's private ship after another day in session with the master
and Master Yoda.  They seemed no closer to finding a solution to
the hole in his mind, so the two Jedi had been tutoring him on
relaxation techniques and higher forms of meditation.

Nothing had helped.  Five days into the journey and Obi-Wan was
still at a loss to explain what had happened to him.  The headaches
came frequently, and the fear never quite left him, and all the
while there was the dreadful sense of urgency beneath everything
else which told him that if he didn't understand the truth soon, he
would...   He would what?  Obi-Wan didn't quite know, but he sensed
that his fate would be very dark indeed.

A dark fate.  Perhaps he had been programmed to be an agent of the
Dark Side.  It certainly seemed possible as the ship shuddered
again and Obi-Wan took full stock of his position.  He had been
next to the controls which would have expelled all air from the
docking bay, thus destabilising the entire ship and quite possibly
destroying it.

The panic rose within him again and he closed his eyes, focussing
on his breathing as Yoda had taught him.  He was okay.  He was
alive.  He was living in the moment, he was in full control, and he
was *not* suicidal even though his actions seemed to suggest that,
actions of which he had no memory.

It was another blackout, and Obi-Wan was suddenly struck by a
feeling of horror.  What if more time had passed?  What if he were
now twenty-six years old and had been gone again?  What if this
sort of thing was going to happen for the rest of his life?  He
couldn't take it, and perhaps it would have been better if the
airlock had opened and he'd been sucked out into the oblivion of
space.  He was quite positive that there would be no Qui-Gon to
save him now, if Qui-Gon had ever even saved him.  He missed his
former master desperately but had been told by Eeth that he had to
move on with his life.  

Move on with his life - what a statement that made.  As far as he
knew, he no longer controlled his own life and therefore how could
he be expected to deal with emotions and events in a rational
manner?  Perhaps he should trust the darkness which lurked, embrace
it, and meet his destiny....

"Obi-Wan!"  

Almost blind with panic, Obi-Wan instinctively turned to face the
voice.  "What year is it?" he gasped.


Yoda shuffled forward, bracing himself as the ship's internal
gravity fluctuated momentarily.  "Encountered a minefield, we have. 
The ship has left hyperspace but some damage was done."  A whirring
as the air recyclers clicked back on - Obi-Wan hadn't even noticed
that they had stopped functioning and that was a very dangerous
thing indeed for any Jedi.  If he even was a Jedi.

"What year is it?" he managed again, even as the rational part of
his mind noted that Yoda's appearance was the same and his own body
had the same feel about it as he remembered.

Yoda told him, his ears drooping sadly, and Obi-Wan was relieved to
hear that apparently he'd only lost a few hours.  "Why are you
here?"

"I-"  And Obi-Wan paused, torn with indecision.  Was it better to
admit his failure to Yoda and jeopardise his future by proving the
dark taint, or should he hide it?  But to hide the truth was akin
to lying, which was the path to the dark side regardless.  "I don't
know," he admitted.  He sank to his knees.  "Master Yoda, I don't
know!  I remember retiring to bed and then the ship shook and I
woke up here."

His hands came up to cover his face.  "What's wrong with me?"

Yoda shuffled forwards, leaning heavily onto his cane until he was
mere inches from Obi-Wan's face.  "Look at me, you will."

Obi-Wan could not refuse.  He met the wizened eyes, seeing
compassion, pity and strength.  "You must be strong, Obi-Wan. 
Create your own future, you do."

"Are you saying that I did this deliberately?"

Yoda closed his eyes, seemingly reaching out with the Force. 
"Difficult to see," he said.  "You must trust your feelings."  A
hand crept out to touch his shoulder and Obi-Wan leaned into it,
the simple touch once again grounding him in reality.  

"I am trying so hard, Master Yoda," he said sadly, "but nothing I
do seems to make any difference.  Not even the entire Council could
help!"  A shudder passed through his body as he remembered the
first few days on Coruscant, after Qui-Gon had found him.  Even
though he knew the Council had his best interests at heart, it
still felt as if his mind had been shredded as they probed every
tiny spark of memory, of life, that was Obi-Wan in a mad search for
the key to unlock the mystery of the missing time.

And it had hurt.

A pulse of healing came through the contact point between himself
and Yoda, it soothed the memory.  "Sorry for your pain, I am," Yoda
said.  "Necessary it was."

"I understand, Master."

Yoda sighed, staring intently at Obi-Wan.  "Tomorrow we reach our
destination."

"Will I find healing there?"  Obi-Wan was hopeful, almost
desperately so, for it was his last resort.  

Yet Yoda did not respond.  He turned, muttering, "Rest, we must. 
Come."

Obi-Wan followed, and when he had returned to his room, he locked
the door shut and thanked the Force for the mine field which had
knocked him out of his sleepwalk.  He then placed a chair against
the door as a barrier, but in his heart, he did not believe that
anything could truly stop the darkness or the horror of his own
mind.

And in the darkest hour of his sleep, he felt a presence.  "Obi-
Wan?" it asked softly, serenely, it was a gentle brush against his
mind.  It brought him comfort, it reminded him of home, if he even
had a home in the universe.  He smiled, knowing that there was
somewhere he belonged.  

*

Dagobah.  Of course Yoda would take Obi-Wan to Dagobah, Qui-Gon
realised, as the direction of the trail he was following became
apparent.  It was a place which strongly pulsed with the Force
through the sheer amount of life on the planet.  It was a place
strongly allied with both light and dark, dependent upon one's mood
and the inclination of the local trees.  It was a terrible and good
planet at the same time.

Qui-Gon reached out along his link with Obi-Wan, smiling at the
familiar brush of Obi-Wan's mind.  He doubted Obi-Wan was aware of
his presence, and he also feared that Obi-Wan would reject his
advances had he known of them.  Qui-Gon reflected that the new Obi-
Wan, like the old, had already proven himself to be honourable and
protective during those few short hours they'd had together.

He missed him.  Qui-Gon wanted to get to know Obi-Wan, he wanted
friendship and comfort and love which the bond between them hinted
of, and which surely the Force decreed was right.  Yet they were
separated by an event which was no one's fault, and Qui-Gon knew
they could never come together until Obi-Wan had accepted and
conquered the incident.

Touching a control switch, Qui-Gon smiled as Obi-Wan's holographic
image sprung from the counter.  This, taken from a security camera
in the Jedi Temple, along with his own memories, were all he had of
the adult Obi-Wan.  He found himself studying the younger man in
detail, knowing that appearances did not matter, but fascinated
nonetheless.  He ruthlessly quashed the spark of desire that tugged
at the very edge of his mind.  There were hundreds of beings who
considered Obi-Wan extremely good looking and the last thing Obi-
Wan needed was to have Qui-Gon on that list.  Never mind that he
was a Jedi Master and should not be lusting after someone half his
age.  Someone whom he loved.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and again brushed against Obi-Wan's mind,
sensing that the younger man was sleeping.  They connected best
when Obi-Wan was slumbering, during the day the presence of Eeth
and to a lesser extent, Yoda were so prevalent in Obi-Wan's mind
that Qui-Gon knew even the merest touch would be detected.  Such a
revelation would result in the immediate condemnation of Qui-Gon
after being so explicitly ordered to stay away, but it was an order
he could not follow.

"You will heal, Obi-Wan," he whispered, hoping Obi-Wan could hear
him.  "You will discover what has happened and you will conquer it. 
You *will* conquer it."

A sigh of contentment whispered back along their bond.

"I will train you to Knighthood.  This I promise you."  It was a
promise Qui-Gon intended to keep regardless of what happened on
Dagobah.  Even if Yoda and Eeth decided that Obi-Wan was not for
the Order, Qui-Gon would train him.  It was the least he could do
for his failure to keep Obi-Wan safe.

Obi-Wan slipped deeper into sleep and Qui-Gon reflected that
perhaps he should do the same.  It would require the most alert of
minds when he finally arrived at Dagobah to shield both himself and
the hired ship whilst being as close to Obi-Wan as was possible. 
He wanted to be right *there* if Obi-Wan needed him, or the more
optimistic point of view, he wanted to be there the moment Yoda
declared Obi-Wan a Jedi and contact was once again permitted.

After checking the autopilot one last time, Qui-Gon leaned back in
his chair and succumbed to sleep.

*

The tree.

It loomed before Obi-Wan, by all appearances it was a normal,
hollow trunk, but his Force sensitivity told him otherwise.  He
shot a fearful glance back at Eeth and Yoda and the two Jedi
Masters merely folded their arms and regarded him impassively.

A Jedi does not fear, Obi-Wan told himself over and over, but fear
was the overriding emotion he'd known of late and this tree,
pulsating so blatantly with darkness, heightened his fear to a new
elevation.  

"Master Yoda, must I?" he asked, already knowing the answer.  He
also knew that this, the tree, was his last resort.  If he could
not conquer it then surely he would succumb to the madness.  Or
perhaps he would discover his true destiny within the tree: it had
the potential to unlock the dark side within a person and convert
them to an agent of evil.

In the past, once-pure Jedi had been slain by their comrades upon
leaving the tree.

Obi-Wan could only hope that it wouldn't happen to him.

Wild eyed, he glanced around again, longing for something,
anything, to get him out of the trial which lay ahead.  He could
not even sense the comforting presence which occasionally hovered
at the edge of his mind, something he imagined to be Qui-Gon.  Obi-
Wan understood the Jedi Council's request to keep him away from
Qui-Gon, the last thing Obi-Wan wanted to do was corrupt his former
master and friend as he had possibly corrupted others, but he still
longed for the comfort of someone who cared for him.  Someone who'd
treat him as something other than a specimen to be purged of
darkness.

As the thought crossed his mind he 

looked back, musing that the
reflection wasn't entirely true.  Yoda had been kind.  Yet it was
a kindness mixed with the steely determination of a Master who had
seen much suffering in the past near-millennium and cared for *all*
beings, not just one.

The tree beckoned.

"What will I find in there?" Obi-Wan asked.  

"Only that which you take with you," replied Yoda, and Obi-Wan knew
he should not have expected a more concrete answer.

"I take my memories with me," he declared, falsifying boldness.  "I
take *all* of my memories."

Nothing but intent stares met his words.  Obi-Wan sighed, twining
his braid around his fingers in a nervous gesture.  "I will go."

He turned and stepped forward.  It almost sounded like the tree
laughed, but it was nothing more than the wild call of a swamp
creature.  Obi-Wan sucked in a deep breath, the fetid scent of the
swamp paling in comparison to what the tree promised.  He swallowed
his fear, whispered goodbye to all sanity and rational thought and
Qui-Gon in the same moment, and stepped forward again to accept his
fate.

Once through the opening Obi-Wan could see that the tree opened up
into some kind of cave.  Whether it was a true cave or some Force
distortion he could not be sure, either was equally as frightening. 
It stretched beyond him forever.

"I am here to recover my memories," Obi-Wan called into the
darkness.  "I am not afraid."  The answering silence mocked him.  

Could the truth be found there, or was it within himself?  More
steps forward into the all consuming darkness and he could no
longer see the exit, he could not even be sure that the exit even
existed.  Surrounded by inky blackness, the wild idea crossed his
mind that he had always been in such a place and Yoda, Qui-Gon, the
Jedi, were nothing more than figments of his imagination.

He breathed.

A plethora of images suddenly surrounded him, of the past, the
present, and a multitude of possible futures or destinies.  He saw
an old, grey Obi-Wan sitting on the Jedi Council yet just as he
reached for the image, it vanished to be replaced with a funeral
pyre of an Obi-Wan his own age.  Even worse, an Obi-Wan slit open
from shoulder to hip, lying on the ground with blood foaming from
his mouth as a red and black creature stood above him, laughing.  

Old Obi-Wan shuffling through a desert, watching over a young man
of approximately 20 years of age.  Middle-aged Obi-Wan in formal
robes at a wedding of a similar young man and woman he did not
recognise.  Qui-Gon rejecting Obi-Wan, casting him out of the Jedi. 
A young girl whispering, "my Master," her eyes filled with hero-
worship.  

Obi-Wan leaving the tree, his eyes blazing darkness and fury, and
Eeth ignited his lightsaber and sliced off his head.  Obi-Wan
making love to Qui-Gon, a tangle of sweaty limbs.  Being Knighted
by Yoda.  Older Obi-Wan carrying a baby away from a blazing palace. 
And the Obi-Wan as he was today, laughing, standing atop the ruins
of the Jedi Temple and proclaiming allegiance to the Sith....

He whirled away from his doppelganger and the images faded, leaving
him confused and troubled by what he'd seen.  Which of the possible
futures were real?  All of them?  None of them?  Which did he want
to be real?

"I want to feel the light side of the Force," Obi-Wan whispered to
reassure himself.  Again it was dark, black, silent save for the
eerie creaking noise that sent a tingling down his spine because he
*knew* that sound.  He knew it intimately.  

The dimmest of lights began to diffuse the darkness and Obi-Wan
peered forward, terrified of what he would see, knowing exactly
what it was.  First the ropes filtered into view, and then the
seat, rocking backwards and forward accompanied by the eerie,
unending creaking.

The swing.  The damnable swing.  And even as he stared, a ghostly
figure upon it appeared, becoming more substantial with each
oscillation.  Although the person's back was to him, Obi-Wan
recognised himself instantly.

"Hello, Obi-Wan," said the figure, the voice hollow and empty.

Obi-Wan found he could not answer.

"You seek the truth.  I am the truth.  I am the other half of your
mind and in me are all the answers."  A pause, punctuated by more
creaking as the swing rocked back and forwards.  "All you have to
do is embrace me."

"Embrace you?"

"Yes," said that oddly calm, familiar voice.  "I am everything you
are not; I am your weird brother hidden inside.  Only together we
can be whole."  The other Obi-Wan turned to face him, and Obi-Wan
gasped.  The man stood tall, proudly, aware of his beauty as he
arrogantly lifted his own padawan braid and ripped it from his
head.  "We do not need this.  We are stronger without it."   

The dark creature sauntered forwards, swinging his hips, and a
stray ray of light caught the inky black orbs which were his eyes. 
"Come to me, Obi-Wan," he hissed.

The swing still rocked.

Obi-Wan knew he was looking at absolute evil.  

His doppelganger opened his arms for the embrace, smiling, and it
seemed as if saliva dripped from the mouth in delicious
anticipation.  "Love me."  It threatened to consume him whole.  

Indecision waged a war inside Obi-Wan.  The part of him that was so
scared of everything that had happened since his awakening wanted
to run screaming forever and forget this had ever happened.  The
rest of him knew that if he was ever going to conquer the darkness,
he had to embrace it, yet there were no guarantees he could be
saved.

Holding an image of Qui-Gon in his mind, the only person he
associated wholly with lightness and good, Obi-Wan stepped forward.

He let the evil hands come up to his head and tug him forwards to
that waiting mouth in a parody of an intimate kiss.  The fetid
breath of not-Obi-Wan passed into him and he spasmed at the
invasion, now the darkness was crawling *within* him as well. 
Perhaps it had always been there.  

He bore it stoicly as the lips melded with his own, feeling an
infusion of sorts as the other Obi-Wan exhaled, a deathly kiss
which lasted forever.  Images, feelings, *dark*, racing into him
and consuming him, until finally the flow stopped, and the reverse
began.

His head feeling light, Obi-Wan opened his eyes to see the dark
creature watching him, hands holding him so tightly that he could
not escape even if he wanted to.  And he did want to, he *had* to
get away as he realised, in horror, that his doppelganger was now
sucking the *light* out of him.  "No," he managed to moan against
the mouth and the grip of the hands on his head grew stronger,
crushing his face to the other.

No! his mind shrieked as he struggled to get away, his hands and
legs flailing but to no avail.  He felt something rip at his head
and noticed almost numbly that his braid had been torn away; sticky
blood now trickled from its former position.  Absolute terror
coursed through him: the braid had been his last connection to the
Jedi way of life and now it was gone.  His last connection to Qui-
Gon....  Master!  It was a mental shriek more than anything else
and Obi-Wan's last resort, the only thing he could cling to as the
monster raped his mind and body.

And following the shriek came a wave of support and love, enough
for Obi-Wan to tear himself away from the beast that wasn't him
anymore and ignite his lightsaber.  Clinging to the touch of Qui-
Gon in his mind, Obi-Wan desperately plunged the blade forward and
not-Obi-Wan screamed.  The eyes changed from black to blue-green
and a pained smile drifted over the face.  "You killed us both..."
he whispered, slumped to the ground, and vanished.

Obi-Wan stood there, stunned, breathing heavily, dimly aware of the
fact that his head was bleeding and that he should leave, but part
of him was elated for he had won.  He'd won, he'd beaten the dark
creature, he'd proven he wasn't evil.

And the swing creaked.  

And he screamed.  

---

Qui-Gon burst through the forest, clearly shocking the breath out
of Eeth.  Yoda merely turned to greet him calmly and said,
"Expecting you, I was."

Qui-Gon didn't dignify the statement with a response.  "Obi-Wan
needs me," he gasped, taking quick stock of the surroundings and
the tree.  "I must go to him."

Yoda sagely lifted one hand.  "Wait.  He must finish this himself."

"No," protested Qui-Gon, a chill coursing through him as he heard
the anguished scream of his former padawan.  He pushed forwards
past the two Jedi and closer to the tree.  "I heard him call for
me.  You *must* let me help him!"  He wasn't going to lose Obi-Wan
again, he'd already been through that hell and he knew he could not
endure such a loss again.  If Obi-Wan died, Qui-Gon silently vowed
that he would never take another padawan, and he would never let
anyone get close to him again.  It hurt too much.  And if that was
the only lesson the past five years taught him, it was enough.  

To be in a world without light, without love, would be tragic
indeed, yet Qui-Gon knew he would endure it as best he could
because he did not want to be hurt again, and he did not want to
betray Obi-Wan's memory.  To hold Obi-Wan in his heart would be
enough - it had to be enough!  For there was now no sound at all to
be heard, nothing along their bond, just emptiness, and the evil
tree loomed beyond.  

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon whispered, wondering why the pain was suddenly
different, it seemed to attack him from more angles than the pain
of the loss of his padawan.  The pain whispered to him that there
was something more, something intangible at present, yet it
promised sweetly in his ear and heart...if only Obi-Wan was alive. 

And to his complete and utter surprise, Obi-Wan emerged from the
tree-cave.  Scratches covered his body, chunks of his hair had been
torn out, and his robe was soiled and dirty.  Yet he stood tall and
proud, there was a steadfast serenity in his eyes as he nodded his
head in greeting.  "Masters," he said evenly.  He lived.

"Obi-Wan!" gasped Qui-Gon, grasping Obi-Wan's shoulders gently and
intently studying the face he knew and loved.  "Are you all right?" 
He reached for their bond, only to find Obi-Wan shying away from
his mind touch.

"I have been better," Obi-Wan managed a wry smile, "but yes, I am
all right."  Pulling away from Qui-Gon he knelt before Yoda and
Eeth.  "I have conquered the darkness, Masters," he said.

Yoda surveyed him seriously.  "Defeated it, you have," he finally
granted.  "Knew you would, I did."  The barest hint of a
mischievous smile crossed Yoda's face before he turned, beckoning
to Eeth to accompany him, leaving Obi-Wan alone with Qui-Gon.  

Obi-Wan shot a troubled glance back at the tree.  "I should feel
better if we leave this place," he murmured and Qui-Gon quickly
agreed.  Despite the fact that Obi-Wan had survived, the tree was
still strong with the Dark side and the tendrils pulsed through the
Force, reaching for those nearby.  Qui-Gon suppressed the urge to
shiver, feeling glad Yoda had never presented him with the Test of
the Tree.  

They chose a random direction which took them alongside the swamp,
yet it was an alive swamp and pleasant to look at; a welcome
change.  Neither said anything for a long time.

Finally, Qui-Gon paused.  "Your head," he said, lightly touching
the soft hair yet careful to keep his distance from the strange,
silent man.  "I fear that a stray leaf or branch might catch on the
wound and cause it to re-open.  Will you allow me to heal it?"

Obi-Wan stopped by way of acquiescence.  Concentrating on the task,
Qui-Gon gently placed a hand above the wound where the braid had
been and sent healing energies, extending his use of the Force to
cover other minor abrasions too.  Obi-Wan accepted this, his eyes
wide open.

"Thank you, Master," he said when Qui-Gon was finished.

"You are most welcome...Padawan?"  The term was a question, because
from all appearances, Obi-Wan had torn out his own braid and to do
such a thing meant the rejection of the Jedi way of life.  The
thought pained Qui-Gon.  To lose now through *choice* was almost
incomprehensible.  

Obi-Wan sighed.  "I do not know," he admitted.  "The Council may
not permit me to rejoin the Order."

Qui-Gon was stunned at how calm, how distant Obi-Wan was being
about all of this.  Was he in shock?  Or was it something more? 
"Obi-Wan, tell me," he implored.  "What did you learn in the cave?"

Swallowing hard, Obi-Wan tugged on Qui-Gon's arm and pulled him
over to a large rock, upon which they both sat.  Obi-Wan stared
straight ahead as he began to speak, his hands clenched together in
his lap.  "I learnt that I need you in my life," he admitted. 
"Perhaps it is a weakness of mine, but only by calling to you did
I have the strength to...."  His voice trailed off and his eyes
clouded as he relived the horror.  "Thank you, Qui-Gon."  

"I did nothing more than send support through our bond," Qui-Gon
hastily reassured.  "It was *you* who did the work, you who
conquered your fear."

"Then why am I still so afraid?"  The voice sounded oh so young, so
innocent, as if it were a child sitting next to Qui-Gon.  He
noticed that Obi-Wan was trembling.  Wanted to reach out to him,
but didn't dare.  

"Obi-Wan, tell me what's wrong."

And in response, Obi-Wan whirled to face him and threw himself into
Qui-Gon's arms, holding him so close, still shaking violently.  As
his arms automatically closing around the younger man's back, Qui-
Gon soothed, "Everything is all right, Obi-Wan.  Just close your
eyes and rest in me."

Obi-Wan did so for a long, long while as Qui-Gon stroked his back,
comforting him as if he were a small child again and perhaps it was
exactly the comfort Obi-Wan needed.  It was a second homecoming,
one that spoke of the trust that now and forevermore bound them
together.

"It will take time for you to accept what has happened, but I will
be here for you," Qui-Gon promised when Obi-Wan's trembling finally
subsided.  

A head lifted from his chest to look at him directly, and a
thousand emotions swirled in the blue-green eyes.  "You don't
understand," he said dully.

Qui-Gon stared at him blankly, not daring to probe their bond. 
Already, his mental support for Obi-Wan had done damage despite the
fact of his good intentions.  It was not right that Obi-Wan should
rely on him so, yet he was oddly comforted by the notion.  He also
knew that he had to listen to Obi-Wan *now*, no matter how painful
the truth was to hear.  "Tell me, Obi-Wan," he invited.  "Tell me
so that I can understand.  The tree, the cave-"

Shaking his head violently, Obi-Wan protested, "It's not that!  The
tree was a means of facing my *fear*, nothing else.  Despite the
promises of Master Eeth, it did not return to me what I had lost." 

"Obi-Wan," protested Qui-Gon, "it *did*.  You have found yourself,
I sensed it the moment you left the tree.  You are in control of
yourself and your emotions - the dark cannot take you-"  A sharp
intake of breath caused him to break off.

"Don't you understand?" Obi-Wan burst out.  He was crying now,
tears pouring from his frightened eyes.  "I don't know what
happened to me and I *never* will!"

"There is still...?"  Qui-Gon dispensed with words and felt bold
enough to reach into Obi-Wan's mind, knowing that he was needed. 
He tread lightly through the new-found peace and the even newer
confusion, down to the layer of memory.  The hole remained.  

"It doesn't matter," Qui-Gon whispered into his hair.  He held Obi-
Wan close, feeling relieved that Obi-Wan had finally dispensed with
the struggle for serenity and let go.  The younger man sobbed into
his shoulder, pouring out his frustration and agony and despair
which Qui-Gon accepted, and in doing so, diminished.  "The memories
are not important, Obi-Wan," he repeated, hoping Obi-Wan would
believe him.  "The incident in the cave proved that you are not
tainted, therefore the past is only that: the past.

"We must live in the moment," continued Qui-Gon.  Obi-Wan was still
crying, but it seemed the tears were lessening somewhat.  "I grieve
with you for your loss and at the same time, I look forward to the
new memories you will create.  Every instant of every day grants us
the chance to experience the wonder of life, we can appreciate the
world or do something meaningful.  The past does *not* matter," he
reiterated.

Finally, Obi-Wan's tears subsided.  "Do you really mean that?" he
asked, the aftermath of crying causing small sobs to break up his
speech.  

"With all of my heart," Qui-Gon declared.  "It is *you* who is
important to me, not your past.  I will always cherish our early
years together and I do regret the time you were not with me, but
believe me when I tell you this, Obi-Wan, those missing years just
*are*.  They aren't good, neither are they bad."

"They just - happened," Obi-Wan concluded for him.  He noticed the
wet patch on Qui-Gon's shoulder and looked faintly embarrassed. 
"Here I am, twenty-one years old, and crying like a child."  

"Sometimes we need to cry, my Obi-Wan."  The endearment caught them
both by surprise and Qui-Gon realised that his arms were still
wrapped - rather tightly - around Obi-Wan's body, as were Obi-Wan's
arms wrapped around his.  Qui-Gon managed a half grin.  

"It seems were are still bound to one another, Master," Obi-Wan
said lightly and Qui-Gon was gratified to see the smile on the
young man's face.  

"Indeed we are."

*

The trip back to Coruscant was a decidedly happier affair than the
trip out.  For one thing, Yoda and Eeth had elected to leave ahead
of Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, something which caused Obi-Wan to remark
that he was sure Eeth and Yoda would find plenty of excitement in
each other's company.  Qui-Gon had responded with a teasing
reprimand.

There was much light banter between the pair now that the heavy
issues had finally come to light and been discussed.  Obi-Wan knew
it would take him a while to fully accept the truth that he would
probably never know what had happened to him, but with Qui-Gon as
his master and friend he felt confident that he would not only
survive, but succeed.

His friend.  The early days were very much about friendship,
learning about the other person all over again.  Obi-Wan reflected
that Qui-Gon hadn't really changed at all, or perhaps it was the
return of his padawan that caused him to revert back to the kind,
gentle and just a little rebellious man he always was.  

However, Obi-Wan recognised changes within himself: no longer a
laughing, dancing padawan, he had matured into a man more subdued
and cautious but still possessive of a wry sense of humour.  Obi-
Wan was never more glad when Qui-Gon said to him, in all
seriousness one night, that he enjoyed the adult Obi-Wan's company
even more so than he'd loved the company of the child.

It had been a wonderful moment between them.  

"Master!" exclaimed Obi-Wan, the excitement in his voice obvious as
he looked up from the communique.  "The Council has granted you
permission to train me."  

It was the last day of travel and the agonising wait for official
word of their status had been weighing heavily on both minds.  Qui-
Gon immediately dropped the report he was making and read the
message over Obi-Wan's shoulder, a smile breaking out over his face
as he did so.

"Well, then, it seems that you have been right and I have been
wrong."
"In what manner, Master?"

There was a twinkle in Qui-Gon's eyes.  "You have been calling me
'Master' all this time, but I am afraid I have been remiss in
calling you padawan...Padawan."

To finally hear the word was a joy to both of them.  Obi-Wan spun
around and his eyes, too, were shining.  "There is just one thing
missing," Qui-Gon continued.

Obi-Wan watched as Qui-Gon reached to his own head and, using the
Force, disconnected a lock of hair which he quickly plaited into a
braid.  "Padawan?" he asked, Obi-Wan's smile granting him all the
permission he would ever need.

He very gently attached the new braid to the side of Obi-Wan's
head, not quite in the position of the old one but a little higher,
knowing that Obi-Wan's own hair would grow in time.  But this braid
would do for now.

"Thank you, Master," Obi-Wan said, his voice coloured with
sincerity and love.  He closed his eyes, opening his mind fully to
his master as he was now permitted, and felt a wave of admiration
and love come over him, decorated with the vibrancy of the Force. 
It was a true bond.  

He reached out and pulled Qui-Gon into a tight embrace, knowing
without needing to check that Qui-Gon was there in front of him,
and the return of the hug was a promise of fervent nature. 
Something new and strange pulsed between them and it was right.

A blissful smile drifted over Obi-Wan's face as he realised that
many years lay ahead of them during which they could explore the
bond and all the possibilities it promised.  But for now, after
five long years, he had finally come home. 

---
End "Dark Time".

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