Title: Symbiont Circle II
Author: Michelle Roy
Rating: NC-17 for Qui/Obi sexual situations
Email: missmr94@aol.com
Feedback: this starving author craves it more than food
Archiving, Master/Apprentice, OKEB, QJEB, any others, please ask
Spoilers: Some for the "Jedi Apprentice" books, foreshadowing for "The Phantom Menace" and a wee bit for "A New Hope"
Timeline: About a year prior to "The Phantom Menace", about two hours after the events of "Symbiont Circle"
Summary: The ceremony continues. . .and walls crumble
Disclaimers: I don't own 'em. Lucas does and he makes reams of money on them. I don't. I just take 'em out for a joyride now and then.
Thanks: To BethLynn and Alexa for general sweetness and ego stroking.
NOTE: It is essential that you read "Symbiont Circle" before reading this. Nothing herein will make much sense otherwise.
" And behold, I am with you always, until the end of time"
Mark, 28, 20
Sitting in a plush, red chair, Qui-Gon looked at the position of the three moons of Coruscant outside his suite's window and knew it was time. His thoughts went to Obi-Wan, and he sensed his Padawan already going through the same ritualistic steps that he was about to follow.
He poured the red contents of his "borrowed" vial into his glass of water and consumed it in one long drink. The cold water took on a metallic taste as it rushed down his throat, and Qui-Gon could feel it enter his stomach like a lead weight.
The ceremony was now nearing its ultimate completion.
Obi-Wan's vial was not "borrowed" of course. It was his ceremony, after all. Qui-Gon, on the other hand, was not supposed to be going through this final stage. He was not supposed to have his Padawan's midichlorians racing through his body. As Master, Qui-Gon was supposed to let his Padawan go through the final stage in isolation, extending only thoughts of support to his Padawan.
Qui-Gon's elbows rested on his knees and he lowered his head to his hands, raking his fingers through his hair. He felt. . . unnerved. Never before had he heard of a Master experiencing both the Sacrificing and the Receiving in the same ceremony, and he was unaware of how this would affect him. Perhaps this uneasiness was a direct result. He closed his eyes, entwining his fingers together as they tangled in his long hair.
He stayed like that for a long moment, trying to understand. . . letting the Force soothe him.
Releasing his head from his confining fingers, Qui-Gon closed his eyes and let his head fall back and rest on the back of the chair, stretching out his long legs. He felt an. . .ache, a longing. An unfulfilled emptiness.
//Obi-Wan//
His Padawan's name drifted through his consciousness and he sensed Obi-Wan's thoughts with him. Qui-Gon rolled his head imperceptibly against the back of the chair. He sensed. . .nervousness in his Padawan. But he sensed a longing for fulfillment as well; a craving to be one with his Master. Qui-Gon felt a corner of his mouth crook upward in a knowing grin. They agreed there as well, as he yearned for a joining with his Padawan.
And so he would have it. So very shortly now...
Qui-Gon felt the liquid preparing his body for what was to come. As the Metastis liquid coursed through him, it left a purified feeling in its wake. Every pore of his skin seemed to breathe. He would be ready, body and spirit, for the transformation.
Qui-Gon sighed deeply and raised his left arm to his head, resting it across his weary eyes. How long would it be before he was called before the Council?
//Doesn't matter. I did what was right//
He had rebelled yet again but Qui-Gon's resolve remained unwavering. He had done the right thing in accepting his Padawan's midichlorians. It had been the guidance of the Force, after years of meditation that had led him to that fateful decision.
This night, Qui-Gon's essence would be joined with Obi-Wan's; seared together for all eternity. It would alter them on every level. They would be one in the Force.
Qui-Gon shivered, letting the Force soothe his nerves. He would keep his faith in the guidance of the Force now and until his dying breath.
His thoughts drifted back, remembering the fateful day he'd realized that his Padawan meant more to him than he'd ever wanted him to.
They'd been on Epiphara nearly four years ago, both of them swimming in the breathtakingly clear Labarik Sea. A furious contest between them to see which could swim faster ended when Qui-Gon just edged out Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan had laughingly declared that Qui-Gon had used his powers to propel himself through the chest-deep water.
Qui-Gon smiled at the memory. His Padawan had been rather vociferous and lively that day.
It was when his Padawan playfully jumped on his back, daring him to swim as fast with the extra weight, that Qui-Gon first felt it - an awakening of sorts.
He'd hesitated, confused and not knowing how to react to his arousal. Unaware of what else to do, he pitched Obi-Wan forward into the water. When his Padawan had emerged, he'd been laughing, but upon catching one look at his Master, Obi-Wan fell silent. His eyes bored craters into his Master, and Qui-Gon had sensed a deep relief in his Padawan. He sensed a growing tension, like a strap of rubber pulled to its limit, quivering, ready to snap back.
In one quick movement, Obi-Wan's hands were wet on either side of Qui-Gon's face, and Qui-Gon, caught in the spell of the moment, let his hands rest on his Padawan's shoulders, pulling him closer. Closer to a kiss.
Closer to fate.
Their mouths met in a hesitant, virginal kiss before turning into a powerful battle of lips and mouths and tongues, each aching for release of so much unspoken passion.
After the kiss a silence fell over them, and it was instantly understood that this explosive collapse of resolve must not be built upon. Nothing had been said between them, but Qui-Gon had sensed so much in his Padawan. Fear, lust, veneration, and frustration all mingled in Obi-Wan.
Qui-Gon had tried to quash his own feelings, attempting in meditation to turn them over to the Force. It hadn't worked. Trusting in the Force, Qui-Gon had accepted his feelings, coming to an uneasy peace with them and knowing that one day they would have their place.
Sighing, Qui-Gon remembered the day several months ago when he came to the decision he had been contemplating for years.
When Obi-Wan had been in his mid-teens, Qui-Gon had begun sensing Obi-Wan's feelings toward him changing. The deference, the reverence, and the faith in his Master remained unfaltering, but Qui-Gon had sensed a shame-tinged curiosity growing in his Padawan. When that curiosity evolved to a quiet lust, Qui-Gon had not been entirely surprised.
It was when Qui-Gon sensed love in his Padawan - passion for his Master that equaled his Masters passion for him - that he began meditating daily regarding the transformation ceremony. Qui-Gon smiled, thinking that this had been part of his meditations for years now, and it would be difficult remembering guidance for the decision was no longer needed.
Rising slowly from the chair, Qui-Gon knelt, closing his eyes and quieting his mind. He felt an urgent need for deep meditation, and indeed it was called for after the sacrifice of the Master's midichlorians to the Apprentice. Qui-Gon was thoroughly drained and needed to replenish himself as much as possible before the transformation began.
He felt the Force all around him, feeding him, providing strength to his body and soul. He breathed deeply, slowing his heart, preparing it for the trauma that was to come.
//Obi Wan//
He sensed his padawan preparing - meditating for the final step.
Qui-Gon sensed Obi-Wan strong with him. He sensed his Padawan's barely contained energy that was in direct contrast to his own exhaustion, his own unsettled state. He sensed Obi-Wan's intense craving to become one, and felt in harmony with him, longing to unite on every level with his Apprentice.
Qui-Gon sensed his Padawan's thoughts. //Let me come to you Master. After the transformation. Allow me, Master//
Qui-Gon wanted nothing more than to have his apprentice that night, to be physically close to him, to feel the heat of his body, impossible though he knew it was. Contact with his Padawan was forbidden during the remainder of the night following transformation. Obi-Wan was to meditate in isolation through the night.
Qui-Gon sighed in frustrated acceptance. Acceptance on a grander scheme. Slouching a bit from his ramrod-straight meditative posture, he opened his eyes and let them glaze over as he cursed fate.
He realized that, in the end, a physical relationship between a Padawan and a Master could only hinder the development of the Padawan. Too many complicated feelings came into play, and Qui-Gon would not, under any circumstances, allow Obi-Wan to be anything less than perfectly trained. He deserved no less, and Qui-Gon would not subject himself to the pain of losing another Padawan - especially this one - to the Dark Side. He sensed great things for his Padawan, and potentially weakening his training because of something as . . he felt his jaw set. . .trivial as a physical relationship was utterly unacceptable.
Knowing this made it no easier to deny his feelings. Qui-Gon inhaled sharply as he remembered that not two hours ago he had knelt before Obi-Wan, feeling the silk of his Padawan's cock brush against his lips. Shivering violently, Qui-Gon remembered the drops of pre-ejaculate that had fallen to his tongue, their salt sweet flavor tasting like tears. He told himself it was for the midichlorians alone, but he knew better, and as he had swallowed his Padawan's life force, years' worth of pent up longing had released in the wild palpitations of his heart
Qui-Gon groaned quietly, his tongue moistening his lips, imagining for a moment that it was his Padawan's cock.
//Still your body// Qui-Gon's hands trembled, seeming not to care what his mind demanded. His eyes fluttered, feeling Obi-Wan's thoughts with him again.
//Master, allow me to come to you//
Qui-Gon silently called out to his Padawan.
//Meditate Obi-Wan. Prepare yourself. All things have their place in time//
And it killed him to have to lie. He hoped Obi-Wan couldn't sense it.
All Qui-Gon could sense was his Padawan's acceptance, his nervous energy.
//Calm yourself Obi-Wan. Quiet your mind//
The physical and emotional effects of the ceremony would keep his Padawan ebullient for weeks, and should keep Qui-Gon drained for nearly as long.
Should. Again, Qui-Gon reminded himself that he had never experienced a Sacrifice and a Receiving in the same ceremony and was unaware of exactly what it would do to him.
He wondered if Obi-Wan sensed his continuing restlessness. If he sensed his Master's feeling of something being amiss in his soul, something being incomplete.
Unable to meditate any longer, Qui-Gon leapt from his kneeling position, feeling a burst of unsettled energy flow through him amidst his exhaustion. He paced to the window of his suite at the Jedi Academy and stared out at the never-ending Coruscant skyline. It was never truly dark here, even now in the dead of night. The glistening lights of the unending city saw to that.
Hands clasped behind him, Qui-Gon prowled in front of the window, feeling restless and. . .something. . .unfinished? He turned and leaned his back against the cool glass, closing his eyes and resting his head there.
//Obi-Wan//
His eyes snapped open.
It was beginning.
Qui-Gon's breathing became labored, his heart rate quickened, and he demanded his eyes close as he called out to the Force to give him strength and guidance through this.
He felt the climax of the ceremony suddenly nearing, rushing toward him, unstoppable. Obi-Wan's midichlorians were about to make their first passage with the Metastis fluid present Qui-Gon's body.
Qui-Gon trembled, fully aware of the transformation about to occur within him.
Then his chest seemingly imploded.
He inhaled sharply as he felt his Padawan's midichlorians pass through his heart, led by the metallic rush of the Metastis fluid. Air was sucked from his lungs and Qui-Gon's heartbeat fluttered violently as Obi-Wan's essence consumed him. He felt every nerve ending in his body spark and glow with its own charge of his Padawan's life force.
Both exhilarating and lacerating, Qui-Gon doubled over, gasping hard for air to fill his vacant lungs, unable to breathe until the initial physical shock of metamorphosis passed.
Qui-Gon fell in a gasping heap to the floor, his body convulsing slightly, his spirit discovering its new essence.
The Council would look at this as an abomination if they ever found out what had transpired during the ceremony. And indeed, how could they not sense it when they next saw him? Qui-Gon would be severely chastised. Again. The Apprentice was to receive the Master they would say, not the other way around. And so it had been, but Qui-Gon, after many days of meditation, had found no harm in receiving his padawan's midichlorians.
Qui-Gon had never sacrificed what was beneficial to his Padawan in favor of his own desires. From his point of view, he still had not, but he conceded that some - the Council in particular - might see it that way. There was no doubt they could sense his underlying desire for his Padawan, but then they could sense Obi-Wan's feelings as well.
Qui-Gon had indeed felt pangs of guilt for denying Obi-Wan the beauty of the full ceremony, but he sensed that his Padawan could not have cared less. Indeed, all Qui-Gon ever sensed was Obi-Wan's unending desire to please him on every level. Lately, within the past year, this had been joined by a real need to receive pleasure from his Master as well, much to the combined delight and dismay of Qui-Gon.
Only Obi-Wan could do this to him.
Truly, over the years Qui-Gon had discovered that many things were different regarding this particular Padawan. His feelings of protectiveness, his feelings of adoration and devotion for Obi-Wan went far beyond any he had ever felt for any other Padawan.
//You've never desired a Padawan's kiss before either//
Qui-Gon laboriously forced such thought from his mind.
Obi-Wan was truly a physical and spiritual part of him, his essence a part of Qui-Gon's soul forever, up until and through the gates of death.
Finally feeling his breathing return to some semblance of normalcy, Qui-Gon stood slowly and shuddered suddenly.
His Padawan was undergoing transformation.
Qui-Gon felt the somewhat familiar sensation of his own spirit pulsating as its essence fused with Obi-Wan's. He closed his eyes and sensed Obi-Wan doubled over, gasping for air, experiencing the pain and the exhilaration. Qui-Gon sensed his Padawan was writhing on. . . his bed. He sensed something. . . sheets tangled around Obi-Wan's thrashing feet. He silently reassured his Padawan that his Master was there with him.
//Calm Obi-Wan, breathe deeply. I am with you, now until the end of time//
Qui-Gon sensed Obi-Wan with him, incapable of controlled thought for the moment. Qui-Gon placed himself in Obi-Wan's thoughts and remained a silent and comforting presence for him there.
He sensed the pain slowly depart from Obi-Wan's body, leaving his Padawan electrified. He felt his apprentice's thoughts strong with him now, sensed his overwhelming devotion and his wide-eyed excitement.
//Obi-Wan, still yourself. You must meditate through the night. I shall be with you//
Qui-Gon sensed a quieting of his Padawan's mind.
//Yes Master//
So it was over.
Qui-Gon still hovered near the window, and amazingly, through his wrenching exhaustion he still felt uneasy, restless. The transformation did not dim it. He turned his back to the window and went slack against it, eyeing his bed and wondering if this unwavering restlessness would prevent the much needed rejuvenation sleep would bring.
Qui-Gon contemplated spending the rest of the night in meditation as well, but knew his body would not have it. Rest. His body demanded it, and as Qui-Gon silenced his mind he felt the Force guiding him to repose.
Opening his eyes and walking slowly to the bed, Qui-Gon tried one last time to shake the restlessness, the inconceivable feeling of something remaining unfinished despite his union with his Padawan.
Unable to shake it, Qui-Gon collapsed on the bed and as he felt slumber pulling impatiently at his eyelids, an unsettling feeling of dread overtook him.
*********************
End, part one