Betrayals of Trust

by Van (rebelscum@mail.com)



Categories: Drama, angst, first time, au, bdsm

Rating: Close to R now but it will descend into NC-17 soon enough.

Summary: Master Windu's been coveting Obi-Wan and he's going to make sure he gets him.

Archive: M/A and Mistress Nona's sites. Anyone else, please ask.

Feedback: Good; On or offlist. Bad; If it's constructive, then offlist please. Ugly; Flames are cheerily ignored.

Disclaimer: OB1, Qui-Gon, and Mace, all belong to George Lucas. He gets to do with them what he wants and call it canon. He makes money off of them. I get to do with them what I want and call it fan fiction. I make no money off of them. Feh...fair enough.

Note: Many thanx, sad goodbyes, and a heartfelt 'No, I really love you, man!' to my lovely beta and dear friend, Eric. We can't share pints for a few months and I'll miss him terribly even though the little bastard swears he'll miss the fiction off of this list more than he'll miss me! Why I oughta...Consider all spelling mistakes his fault. ;-D

WARNINGS: This little story is going to start out just a tad dark and it's only going to get worse from there. Eventually, there will be some dark,dark sexual content and the coming pieces will be from various POV including all 3 pivotal characters. I will make sure to note each first segment with the appropriate warnings at the top, when they are posted. If you're too young to be reading this (whatever that is in your area, state, country, etc.) or object to slash, then run, don't walk, away now. Consider yourself warned.

~these are OB1's thoughts~

//this is bond-speak//



"Argh! Master... I will NOT yield!" Obi-Wan spit out, even as Qui-Gon held him ruthlessly against the wall. Qui-Gon's mouth began to quirk up at the futility of the denial when Obi-Wan gathered a deep breath and twisted out of the pin, nimbly reaching for one of the thick arms that had just restrained him. He twisted that arm and pushed all in one blurred motion and suddenly, the roles were reversed. Qui-Gon's hair was yanked brutally, pulling his face flush with the wall and his forearm upturned to have his outstretched palm pressed tightly into the small space between his shoulder blades. Obi-Wan, compressing the hold even more, leant into the broad back, stood on the tips of his toes and whispered in his ear, "Now, my Master, it appears that you may be cooking dinner tomorrow after all! Do you yield?"

Qui-Gon's back stiffened ramrod straight for a moment, then softened and he chuckled, nodding. Obi-Wan released him, stepping away and watching triumphantly as his Master rubbed the insulted muscle in his broad shoulders. "You've come a long way in your weaponless skills, my Padawan," he said, grinning mischievously, "but you should know this is a hollow victory. Your cooking is atrocious."

As they were about to leave the unoccupied training area, Mace Windu suddenly appeared before them, surprising both, since neither had felt his presence in the Force, nor heard or seen him until that moment. Obi-Wan had barely finished a quick respectful bow when he heard the Elder speak. "Excuse me Qui-Gon, but I need to have a few words with your apprentice. May I keep him for a moment?" Mace seemed reserved and polite but Obi-Wan still groaned inwardly, remembering a forgotten language session with Master Windu earlier that day.

"Mace, what are you doing here this time of night?" Qui-Gon asked, one eyebrow arching.

"I could ask you the same thing, Qui-Gon. Shouldn't you both be sleeping?"

"That would be my fault, Master Windu," Obi-Wan confessed quickly. "You see, I was rather restless tonight and my Master felt perhaps we would both sleep a bit more soundly if my weaponless skills were addressed. He took me to task rather well and now I'm really quite exhausted... but I don't mind speaking to you before I go up to our room. And, if I may say so, Master Windu," contrite expression now, "I'm sorry about the session I missed earlier. I completely forgot." The last was said while Obi-Wan glanced furtively at his Master standing beside him whose eyes narrowed perceptibly.

Qui-Gon simply nodded and said, "Fine, Mace, but don't keep him too long. We have an early day tomorrow. Obi-Wan, I'll see you in our quarters." He strode out of the training area, leaving his apprentice to marvel, once again, over a familiar subject. ~HOW does a man that size, move like water, after the session we just endured! He can't be completely human. He can't be.~ Master Windu's harsh tones broke his reverie quickly though.

"So, Qui-Gon believes your skills need honing, does he? I've been standing here for quite some time, Padawan Kenobi, and I'm of a mind to agree with your Master. You leave yourself open time and again. At your age you should have this skill mastered. There should be no obvious weaknesses and something like this should have been dealt with a long time ago. I believe your Master is far too indulgent with you." The last was thrown out wrapped with chilly demeanour and the Master's dark eyes fairly screamed for anyone to challenge his observation.

The apprehension of being reprimanded forgotten, Obi-Wan felt a small thread of anger filter out away from his shields, and tried vainly to compose himself before hotly contesting, "Master Qui-Gon is the best teacher I could have ever hoped to have, and any shortcomings I exhibit should be blamed only on my own lack of ability...Master."

Horrified, he realised that he had breached conduct becoming a Padawan in such blatant disrespect to the older Jedi in front of him. Not only was he a Master but a Council Member as well! ~Oh brilliant, Obi-Wan. As always, you're mouth runs away with your good sense.~ "I'm sorry Master Windu, I spoke out of turn." Master Windu remained stoic but his eyes, his eyes glinted of something else. Steeliness. Harshness. And something Obi-Wan couldn't identify. Unconsciously, he took a step back.

"Padawan Kenobi. Take to the mat and prepare to defend. We're going to see just how appropriate your age-level skills are."

"Wh-what?"

"I said we're going to see just how much your Master indulges you. We cannot allow students to go without proper training, no matter the reason. If your lack of ability is faulty enough to be unhealthy, then you will be given to another Master to teach you unarmed combat and grappling skills. A Master who will not be so tolerant or easily swayed by a beatific appearance."

Hearing only the thinly veiled barb aimed at the relationship with his Master, Obi-Wan felt the thread of anger blossom and he moved to the familiar starting point on the mat. He pulled his practice tunic back off and placed it next to the mat along with the Master's tunic and belt. Bowing to the Master, he gritted out, "As you wish Master." No sooner had he straightened from the bow that Master Windu's full form flew into Obi-Wan, knocking him completely off the mat by several feet.

Dazed and surprised, Obi-Wan winced and stood back on the mat where Master Windu already stood, and was now pointing. "Again." This time, he stood ready in the proper defensive position and appraised the Jedi Master standing across from him. Even though Mace Windu was almost Qui-Gon's height, he was also slighter built, more sinewy, hopefully with less strength than what Obi-Wan was used to wrestling against and, he lamented, probably faster than his Master also. ~Let nobody say that I only choose opponents who are smaller or weaker than myself.~ This was not going to be easy.

Both men began to circle, visually inspecting the other, and it was Obi-Wan who initiated the first move. He feigned a lunge at his opponent's chest, stopping short and sweeping his one leg out close to the floor, thinking to catch the Master off-balance and bring him down. Of course, that didn't happen. Force was not allowed in interpersonal grappling sessions, so it surprised him to feel it moving throughout the room. Master Windu wasn't using it to enhance his own skills, only over them, like a blanket. Obi-Wan didn't understand why it was present but it unsettled him to no end.

He abruptly found himself thumped backwards onto the mat ~Pay attention Obi-Wan!~ by a very large dark hand imprinting itself into his chest and then physically smothered by his antagonist. He gulped in displaced oxygen and tried to steady his ire as he struggled to sit up, pulling to free his trapped wrists. The grip tightened and he clenched his jaw in shock and briefly wriggled under the large body that held him prisoner, only to growl lightly in frustration. "You let your anger dictate too many of your decisions, Padawan Kenobi. You are wasting time struggling against me when you should be clearing your mind to find a way out of the situation. Compose yourself." Just when Obi-Wan began to think through the haze of anger, the thighs bracketing his waist constricted tightly, weaving a web of pain around his already dulled senses. Reeling, he felt his arms pulled to either side of his chest and then Master Windu settled himself, quite comfortably, almost directly over Obi-Wan's heart. The substantial weight left him lightheaded from lack of oxygen and staring up at strong dark arms folded almost languorously across a wide chest and an equally dark glare pointed down at him.

"Now, your arms are trapped beneath me and I have both my hands free. You are at my disposal. What will you do when found in this position, hmm? What now?" Considering the great shift in weight now mostly over his upper chest, Obi-Wan quickly tightened his abdomen and fiercely pulled his legs towards the back of the man astride him, curling his calves around the Jedi Master's throat and explosively pulling him backwards off of the apprentice.

He was rewarded with a loud grunt from his adversary while he immediately rolled himself upright, backing away from the man who was looking decidedly ruffled. "Well done, Kenobi. Perhaps you may be worthy of your age-mates after all." Oh yes, there was passion visible in Master Windu's face, much to Obi-Wan's delight. ~Ok, Obi-Wan, focus. Focus!~ Not wanting to waste his opponents obvious momentary loss of discipline, Obi-Wan rushed the man backwards into the wall and pulled one of those long arms, trying for a variety of hold the same he had used on Qui-Gon earlier. Somehow, he only found himself thrust up against the wall, trapped in a callous mockery of his own impulsive cockiness and misjudgement.

~Maybe he's right. Maybe my Master IS too lenient with me. Should I be able to withhold such a barrage?~ He cried out in pain as his arm was pulled harshly higher between his shoulder blades and his Knight tail was yanked backwards. The back of his head now lay flush against the Master's shoulder and he could feel the rise and fall of the chest pressed into his back and hot breath in his ear. "Let's step this up a bit then, Padawan. We're going to play out a scenario, you and I. Neither of us are using the Force in this little test of skills at the moment, as it should be. But what would you do if you found yourself in such dire straits that you could not bring the Force to bear in your situation at all? What if it was out of your grasp and you were left solely to your physical skills? Worse, what would you do if you could not control your fear in such a situation? What would you do then?" While he spoke, he spread Obi-Wan's feet further apart by one long thigh in between, and began gyrating his hips slowly into the Padawan's backside. Obi-Wan's breath caught in his throat as his heart began to hammer against his ribcage. He tried to push himself away from the wall but Master Windu only pressed him harder into it using his superior weight and strength. He could feel hot breath at his ear and feel the thumping of the heartbeat pressing into him (or was that his own?) and the hips that were crushing him into the wall. A startled sound made it's way out of Obi-Wan and he tried to calm himself while trying to find a way out of the hold. Moments later, he still couldn't concentrate. ~Gods, I can't do this. It doesn't feel right.~

"Master Windu, I yield." The hand released the hair at the back of his head only to find purchase on his hip instead, squeezing obscenely. Obi-Wan's mind convulsed at the touch and the way that the man was holding him, breathing heavily, nuzzling him. "I yield, Master, please stop!"

Obi-Wan was released only minimally, long enough to have his slender wrists gathered brutally in one impossibly long fingered hand and pressed against his own frantically beating chest. Master Windu's other arm snaked it's way around Obi-Wan's waist and he was pulled up tightly against that immense chest, his feet dangling just off the floor. Now he could taste real fear throbbing in his throat and he consciously tried to gather the Force to him to stop his instructor from teaching him a lesson he was unwilling to learn. Only it wouldn't come.

And in a flash of understanding, he saw why Master Windu had used the Force to blanket the room and cocoon them within. //Master! Master Qui-Gon!// His despairing mental shout seemed to reverberate within the room (or was that his head?) only, no further, and Master Windu snuffed lightly against the apprentice's ear. "Ah, he won't be able to hear you, Padawan," and Obi-Wan could hear the lecherous smile behind the voice when he growled, "MY Padawan."



Obi-Wan felt like he'd been drugged, such was the heavy haze of unreality settling in. This was the venerable Master Windu for Force-sake. The highly celebrated Council Member. The right hand of Master Yoda himself! And a good friend of his own Master, Qui-Gon...this could NOT be happening. Surely, Obi-Wan felt like he had to be misinterpreting something, somehow.

Master Windu turned toward the mat, carrying Obi-Wan tightly trussed against him, and shock coursed through him as he felt the hard erection slapping into him from behind with every step the man took. Now he struggled in earnest, writhing and trying to arch away from his captor, groans of denial mixing with mental cries but still, he remained tightly bound. He considered a yell for help but saw that for futile, considering that this entire training floor had been vacant for hours. Exactly the reason his Master and he had come here to begin with. So, again, he tried to centre himself but the Force would not come, and it was beyond his ken if the Elder had accomplished all of this himself or if Obi-Wan's fear was also keeping him from grasping it. Suddenly, begging was not beneath him. "Master Windu, please stop. Please! I yield, I yield. I'm sorry for trying your patience. I apologise. I'm sorry for being disrespehmmmmGGFFF!"

He felt the Force gently tightening his jaw until he could no longer speak beyond muffled protests, and he could feel the panic wash over him, through him, claim him. He was drowning in his own fear. //Master Windu, please!// His mental pleas were going unheard, he knew, and the effort it was taking to shout them out was only exhausting him further. The sparring session with Qui-Gon was showing its toll as it became more difficult to focus energy into resisting the attack.

Shaking his head violently from side to side, he pinwheeled his legs in a useless effort to free himself and when he was dropped unceremoniously to the mat, he scurried madly in any direction away from the Jedi Master. His ankle was grasped and he was pulled roughly backwards, and despite his fear-enhanced strength, he was almost effortlessly pinned to the mat, face down. As the generous weight all settled on the curve of his ass, he could feel the hard evidence of Master Windu's arousal digging into him. His forearms were obliterated by huge hands to either side of his head, and his legs were being roughly spread again until his captor seemed to mollify himself with holding the young Jedi completely still.

Obi-Wan stopped squirming momentarily, trying to grasp some understanding of what was really happening, trying not to focus on the stiff cock twitching itself into his ass, almost seeking entrance through his thin practice trousers. Focused thought seemed so far from his clutches to be ridiculous at this point...and then a sickening notion came to mind.

~What if this IS only a scenario and Master Windu is only frightening me? What if I am in no real danger and this is all a test? He did say that, didn't he? He said it was a scenario! What if I do not perform the way I should? What if Master Qui-Gon is taken from me for being too lenient? Oh gods! ... but what if I AM in real danger though?~ Desperately, he wanted to turn and see the eyes of the Master on top of him; to see what lay within those dark orbs. After spending almost exactly six years with Qui-Gon, he had learned that some people can hide emotions behind a stoic outer calm, especially Jedi, but could never fully keep those feelings from tainting the eyes. The eyes always gave something away, no matter how small.

Almost vertiginous from the introspection and now being brazenly nuzzled again, Obi-Wan was quite conscious of just how loudly his own heart was thumping in his chest. It seemed to be getting louder.

thud thud THUD THUDTHUDTHUDTHUDTHUD

Then he realised that it wasn't his heart but somebody banging on the training centre door. ~When was that door sealed and locked?~ His wrists were released like they were made of molten ionite and he could feel the harsh exhale against his shoulder as Master Windu pulled back and stood, leaving Obi-Wan to quickly roll over and stare up at him. He wasn't sure but it appeared that Master Windu's eyes were quickly clearing, like a drunken man suddenly coming to sobriety. All that was left was proper decorum as the man straightened, but the iciness in the eyes remained.

"As I said, Padawan Kenobi; You're Master indulges you too much. If you continue to let your actions be ruled by fear and anger this way, you will never be Knighted. I will speak to your Master about this as soon as possible. Please get dressed and go to your room." His heart sank. So did this mean it was a test after all? Had he failed? Just like that, he was dismissed with an uneasy feeling. He stood to retrieve his tunic and the thick oppression in the room dissipated like fog, leaving him wide eyed and confused. Qui-Gon burst through the door looking like a man possessed.

"WHY is this door locked and what is taking so long?" Qui-Gon's irate gaze lit on Obi-Wan halted in mid-dress and Mace's bare chest and he said, "You're sparring again? I thought you said you were tired? I've been calling you through our bond and you never answered. Why not? I thought something was wrong! What is going on?" Qui-Gon stood scowling, hair loose, wearing only thin loose sleeping pants and passing scorching looks from Mace Windu to Obi-Wan and back again, demanding answers. And never had he looked so beautiful to Obi-Wan, who felt like he was on the verge of mad gibberish and inane tears. "Obi-Wan? What's wrong?"

As gloriously happy as Obi-Wan was to see his Master, he wasn't sure if he wanted to tell him everything that had transpired. ~I'm sorry I was taking so long, Master, but Master Windu found it necessary to restrain me and molest me as soon as you walked out the door.~ Visibly shaking his head, he decided that wasn't going to work. How do you tell your Master that one of his best friends appears to be something else entirely? Worse, how could you tell him that when you're not even sure of it yourself? No,it had to have been a test. ~It would be highly unlikely, not to mention unwise, immoral, and completely unjedi, for a man on the Council like Mace Windu, to being doing something like this to me, if it was only for his personal pleasure. I certainly can't just tell everybody what happened, in any case, until I'm sure.~ No, it would never do to falsely accuse a Member of the vaunted, legendary Jedi Council.

Mace Windu stood there, ever inflexible and regal, appraising him cooly, and Obi-Wan felt that perhaps, yes, he had been wrong after all. He could feel Qui-Gon prodding along their bond ~Oh, it's good to feel that again!~ but he hastily pulled up his shields until he could sort through everything that had happened.

"N-nothing Master. Master Windu just dismissed me to go to our room."

"Yes, Qui-Gon, you and I have needs to speak about your apprentice and his training. Now, please." Master Windu calmy called his tunic to his hand and pulled it on, tucking and pulling the fabric straight again.

"What? Earlier you said you needed to speak to Obi-Wan and you were rather talkative since I had to come looking for him, and now you want to speak to me about his training? Mace, whatever it is, I'm sure it can wait until morning. As it is, we'll only get a few hours sleep before the morning meal. Why are you looking at me like that? Wait, has Obi-Wan...done something that I should be aware of?"

Both Masters turned to Obi-Wan and he wanted very badly to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. "Padawan, why don't you go up to our room and I will be there in a moment?" It was all Obi-Wan could do to keep the relief off of his face, and he bowed quickly to both, keeping his eyes from Master Windu. He left the room only to find he was wholly interested in what was to be said, so he remained close to the door, using Force to enhance his hearing and shielding himself tightly to keep either of the Jedi Masters from discerning his presence.

"Alright Mace. Spit it out."

"Qui-Gon. I tested his grappling skills and, just wait a moment... WAIT please. Yes, I know how you detest anyone interfering with your Padawan but hear me out. He should be better than what he is. Much better. He..."

"WHAT? You, of all people, tend to be a little critical when it comes to appraising student's skills." Qui-Gon sounded like his temper had been invoked. But then his Master always said that members of the Council tended to...aggravate him.

"I tried to scare him during the session and it worked. It worked too easily. I held him in a Force stasis to frighten him and it didn't take much to unravel him. Fear and anger, Qui-Gon. Too much of it. He lost track of his centre early and never got it back. He needs better stance and his focus was way off. He's too aggressive and impatient, not to mention he leaves himself open far too often. His pivots were weak..."

"Is there anything the boy can do right, in your opinion? You make him sound like he hasn't learned a damned thing!" Qui-Gon's temper seemed to humming along quite evenly now, but then his voice lowered and softened and it made Obi-Wan's chest clench. "He's an amasing student, Mace. Quick, effective, his weapons skills rival most of the Knights in the Temple right now and his potential is..."

"Dammit Jinn, I didn't want to say this but he's weak because of you! You coddle the boy. Listen... Qui-Gon, I know how you feel about the young man. I do. Many of us do. Yes, his weapons skills are good. Yes, his studies are progressing nicely. YES, he shows an inordinate amount of potential, BUT you must see that if you are lax in any of his training, even grappling, that lack of skill could endanger lives.Yours, someone else's, and especially his own. Yes, I see much potential in him but if you can't resolve your own lack of discipline when it comes to him, you could be partially responsible if something bad happens to him. And I know you wouldn't want that on your conscience."

For a quick moment, Obi-Wan wanted to risk the chance of looking around the corner just to see his Master's face but he held his back firmly planted against the wall instead, willing his feet not to move. Qui-Gon sounded like he was sputtering. "Of course not, Mace but...."

"Qui-Gon, he excels in everything else but the interpersonal grappling skills. If I'm correct in saying so, I'd believe this is based mostly on your own...feelings...towards the boy and the amount of close proximity needed here. Surely you see that you are doing him a grave disservice by keeping these skills from him, but for his sake, you should consider someone else to teach him, at least until you work through this physical handicap you have, where your apprentice is concerned."

Qui-Gon said nothing and Obi-Wan didn't want to risk touching their bond to find what his Master was thinking. He listened intently and heard Qui-Gon begin to say something and then stop. "Mace...he's so young...do you think..."

Obi-Wan was assaulted by a maelstrom of emotions and questions suddenly. Did this mean that his Master had been purposely keeping their grappling classes to such a minimum because he was scared to get close to his Padawan? Scared of the intimate touches and holds? Is that why he was always so quick to yield whenever Obi-Wan finally secured his Master in a pin? Above all else, did this mean there was actually a chance that his Master returned his emotions? Obi-Wan had known his love for his Master, as a teacher, had blossomed into love for him as a man, but never really hoped that any of that depth of emotion would be returned. Now there was proof, slight as it was, that there was a chance! Unfortunately, with Mace Windu's next words, his elation quickly soured into distaste and burgeoning fear.

"I'd be honoured to help with him when you are both here, Qui-Gon. You can continue on with him in all his other fields of study and I can just assist with the less desirable sessions. I'm sure it would only help with his focusing to not have his usual Master standing in front of him all the time, and it would only be a matter of time until his skills greatly improve under my supervision." At this he heard Qui-Gon snuffling loudly. He could hear the smile in Mace Windu's words as he continued, "As it is, I already have Obi-Wan in a language session bi-weekly so I'm sure we can squeeze in grappling sessions after class. Plus, while he and I are doing that, you'll finally be free to finish some of those training classes that Yoda has been asking you to run." He heard Qui-Gon sigh deeply and Obi-Wan didn't have to peek around the corner to know that Qui-Gon bore a look of resignation.

After a pregnant pause, Qui-Gon said, "Are you sure about this, Mace? Obi-Wan is my student, after all. Perhaps if I just dedicated more time to his skills myself...."

"Stop it, you old Nerfherder. I can feel how conflicted you are and," Obi-Wan's despair flared again when he heard Mace Windu add quietly, "besides, I'm sure I will enjoy teaching Obi-Wan a great many things."

"Alright then, I'll let Obi-Wan know about it in the morning. Is this all then Mace? I'm very tired."

"Yes, yes, go to sleep. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Obi-Wan turned to sprint down the hall towards the turbolift, determined to get in the fresher before his Master even made it back to their room, which he accomplished, marginally. //Padawan, I'm going to sleep. In the morning, there are some things we need to discuss. Get some rest, alright? Goodnight.//

//Of course, Master. Goodnight.// By the time he was done and padding over to his bed, his beloved Master was already asleep. He stopped to stare at the sleep-softened features, the rise and fall of the broad chest, and thrilled to consider a future with this man. ~Go to bed, Obi-Wan, before you drown him with your drool.~ Sighing, he finished rubbing his hair dry and crawled into bed but he was still unsettled at the night's events. Master Windu said it was all an elaborate scheme to see if the youth caved into his fear, and it had apparently worked. So why did he have the feeling that he was right to be worried about spending more time with the Elder? So many questions were rattling around inside his head, he was making himself dizzy, so he decided to stop worrying about it and just accept things as they happened. He could practically hear his Master. 'Focus on the moment, Obi-Wan. The moment. The here and now.' One thing at a time and he would go from there. It did little to ease the queasiness, though, when he remembered the strong erection pressing into him while he was held tightly quiescent. Shuddering lightly, he turned to go to sleep, and suddenly found himself grinning. ~Well, at least I didn't get slapped with demerits or extra work for missing that language session, after all. Master Windu must have forgotten why he had wanted to speak to me, to begin with.~ Sated, he drifted off to an uneasy sleep filled with nightmares of being chased.



"Damndamndamn." He'd almost brought his own life crashing down around his ears and he knew it. What was he thinking to maul the boy like that? In the Temple, no less. Abruptly his pacing stopped. ~That's the whole problem. I wasn't thinking. Not with my brain anyway.~ The Force must have had something to do with being interrupted. But how infuriating to be interrupted by none other than Qui-Gon Jinn himself.

"Damn." That man had been a pain in his side for decades.

Mace Windu sank himself into his favourite high-backed chair and leaned forward, rubbing his temples and staring out his window at the Coruscant sky. Twilight. He turned and watched, transfixed, as the waning light washed his room in fiery orange-reds, then deepened into coppery-yellows. When the sunset darkened satisfactorily, his eyes turned to the cream coloured sheets on his bed. Sheets now hued to a soft buttered spice by the light. He could see him there then. He could see him there. On his bed.

Flushed skin so like the colour of the warm light, soft pelt of hair a few shades darker, exquisite body sprawled wantonly on his bed, the soft lines of youth starkly visible under the thin sheet that fluttered as he writhed sensually. He could see him prop himself up on one elbow, gray-green eyes half-closed, perfect lips slightly apart, and he crooked a finger at Mace, beckoning. He could hear him. 'Please Master,' he begged. He could see one angled hipbone poke against the linen as those luscious muscular thighs rubbed against each other, whispering the fabric across the arousal so apparent beneath. He could hear him moan as he arched his head back, silken line of neck beckoning, finely boned shoulders forming a V leading to the hollow of his neck. 'Please, Master Windu.'

"Obi-Wan." The name reverberated loudly in the empty room, startling him out of his reverie and effectively dissipating the wraith on his bed. It took him a few seconds of vigorously shaking his head to clear the image from his mind. It was so real. Always so incredibly real. He looked down to see that he was absently rubbing the erection straining against his trousers, as always. This was becoming intolerably difficult. How could a simple creature like a Padawan create such maddening craving in him? And how had things progressed to this point that he was so ready to risk his past, his present, his future, just to be able to have this one boy? Odd how desire could insinuate itself into a life when you weren't looking and then take over in such a dramatic way that it left you mindless and obsessed. He hadn't felt this way in almost two decades. Not since Depa. And Force knew how that had turned out. What a catalyst that had been.

There is no passion, there is serenity. "Hmph." The night before had been a fiasco. He had never intended for things to become so physical. He didn't want to take Obi-Wan against his will. He wanted for the Padawan to come to him on his own terms, begging for release. He just wanted...he wanted. He would have him. One way or another, he would.

This day had passed like any other. Daybreak Meeting among the Council, personal sessions with the various teachers, healers, Knights and Masters throughout the Jedi Temple, and then classes with groups of apprentices. Language, weapons drills, communications, and Force mastery for the younger students. Amasingly, the only thing that stubbornly remained imprinted of his day was the fleeting vision of Obi-Wan walking through the Temple gardens with Qui-Gon. Mace had been teaching some of the younger students about mind-shielding and suddenly felt Obi-Wan's Force signature close by. He turned to see the profile of the lovely Padawan while he talked with Qui-Gon some ways away. He had ached when they immediately turned and walked off and all that was left was the vision of Obi-Wan's hips swaying as he flowed through the doorway, mesmerising him, the image burning into his retinas, making his cock twitch. Thank small favours that the children he was teaching were so young, lest they be distracted by his...obvious...lapse in concentration.

Things had gone this way for some time now. Since that day that he had seen Qui-Gon gazing at his student during an artistic representation of a particularly difficult kata. Well, actually, if Mace were to be truthful with himself, he would admit that this had all begun very long ago, but that day in the training room had been the first realisation of the pure potential that the boy held. His quarters seemed to spiral away from him as old memories reached up and dragged him inward.

He had walked into the training room that day to speak to Qui-Gon about an upcoming mission and stopped short, finding himself compelled to see what had Master Jinn so utterly entranced. If Mace had been standing on his head naked in front of him he doubted the man would have noticed. So, turning, he saw the familiar form of Obi-Wan Kenobi performing. The E'ril Dinaas combined two-hundred and twelve painstaking movements, taking an incredible amount of time and traditionally, was done with either a blindfold or closed eyes. It had once been a Jedi form of lingering short-term self-defence meant to draw a web of Force around the warrior using it but had largely gone the way of an artform since there were no real threat of Sith anymore. There was a shorter form to it, a quicker form that didn't last as long but was almost equally effective, but standing back he could see that Obi-Wan had just begun the long form. Ambitious of him, he had thought idly. There were drawbacks to the long form, the main one being that it left the Jedi initiating it mentally exhausted afterward.

It was also very difficult. The artist creating the E'ril Dinaas would need complete unity with the Force to even finish it, let alone have it flow and be aesthetically beautiful the way it was meant to be now. He had been intrigued to see Obi-Wan attempting it, and decided to wait for a few moments to see how the boy was doing before interrupting Qui-Gon.

Beyond that it was all a blur.

A smudge of lost time.

He vaguely remembered watching, fascinated at the slow movements, the elegant hands weaving intricate patterns into the air, nimble fingertips knitting and kneading tangible Force energy into a centred ball waist-high, pushing and pulling it until it formed waves and eddies around him. The shirtless torso glistened with a soft sheen of sweat, muscles bunching and sliding beneath that tawny skin, the unaccountably graceful light steps and lunges and leaps and twirls and it was making his head swim. Yet he couldn't pull his eyes away.

And then it was over.

Had he actually stood there and watched the whole thing? Hadn't he just arrived moments ago? And just how did a Padawan accomplish this impeccable performance when Mace himself had only finished it flawlessly three times in his entire span as a Jedi? Yet, there was the boy, Force fairly glittering around him as he bowed to his Master.

Obi-Wan straightened, finally opening his eyes and the explosion of brilliant gray-green against of the backdrop of flushed pink was spectacular.

And then the boy had smiled. Open, honest, so utterly chaste in his innocence. It had been too much. Just too much.

He decided then that he had to have him.

Of course, Mace knew well enough to not expect it to be easy. For Mace, things never seemed to come easy, especially wherever Qui-Gon was concerned and this was that man's Padawan. Undoubtedly, Master Jinn would not take kindly to having Mace courting the youth. One quick glance at Qui-Gon said things were worse than he thought.

He could see it written on the man's face. Why haven't I ever noticed this before, he thought? He was used to Qui-Gon's stoic calm but now emotions were struggling against iron control. Oh, he did an admirable job of hiding it but Mace Windu was among the absolute best at Force-wielding mind-attacks. Qui-Gon never felt the stealthy caress against his mind and Mace confirmed what he suspected was there, just below the surface. It had been almost squirming it's own way past the man's tight shielding.

Not just lust, no. Nothing as simple as that.

LOVE.

The Master was in love with his apprentice.

Mace had almost laughed outright.

This would be the second apprentice that Qui-Gon had fallen in love with, Xanatos being the first. Although, to be honest, the relationship with that Padawan had not become what the Master had so obviously ever hoped for. Mace had cast a few subtle touches into the boy's mind and had learned enough about Xanatos to shock the boy's Master into disowning him straightaway but decided to wait, in Jedi fashion, to see if the boy would bring about his own destruction. Mace considered it to be only a matter of time considering that the little dark-haired viper would take to bed whoever could assist in his ambitions, and that had eventually included his unsuspecting Master. But that affair had been built under falsehoods, some of which Mace knew intimately.

As intimately as Mace had come to know Xanatos.

Knight Windu had offered his sexual services to Xanatos about the same time the boy had been trying, unsuccessfully, to seduce his Master. Though the Knight had made no pretence about his affections being anything more than physical pleasure, Xanatos tempted Qui-Gon with empty promises of love and a lifebond. Even made gullible by the love for his own apprentice and the obviousness that the Padawan was mature enough at twenty-one, the Master had remained steadfast in his refusal to take the boy to his bed and clearly wanted to wait until Xanatos was knighted.

So for two years Mace had been lover to the young Padawan, eventually purchasing living space in a small tower south of the Temple just so that he would have somewhere to take the boy. They had spent many odd hours there together, discovering deep erotic pleasures, away from prying eyes. Qui-Gon's Padawan had been lovely, there was no doubt about that. Luscious hair, bright eyes, graceful, intelligent, charming and a wicked sense of humour. He had been a most intense lover as well but, of course, Mace knew the little devious whelp well enough to expect that there would be an eventual price for the boy's attentions. A price that the boy finally demanded.

He expected Knight Windu to pay for services rendered and not with credits, either. With something much more valuable.

Xanatos wanted to be taught mind manipulations. Not just simple mind-trickery which he was already a master of, but the much more elaborate daily effort it would take to control one particular Jedi Master. A Jedi Master who would not bend to Xanatos' will or succumb to his most ardent seductions. So, for a full Standard year Mace taught him much of what he knew and the boy, in turn, had become somewhat formidable. Formidable enough that Qui-Gon himself never saw the boy's deep dark betrayal until Xanatos had fully turned. Qui-Gon had been almost love-blind to begin with, but after the boy successfully managed to pull his Master into bed, Qui-Gon had become malleable to the point of being sickening. The Padawan had triumphantly puppeteered the Master on carefully spun heartstrings.

The Force deals with us all eventually, Mace thought bitterly, and Qui-Gon was only getting what he deserved.

Yes, he had felt somewhat responsible for teaching Xanatos Force-wielding beyond the boy's ability to control it completely but he also believed that the Force would let things happen as they should. Therefore, if Xanatos had not been meant to learn the intricacies in mind manipulation, then something should have kept it from being done. The Force had allowed it so obviously it was meant to be. It was all as Master Yoda taught; everything happens for a reason. Later, after the confrontation between Xanatos and Qui-Gon and the Padawan's disappearance, Mace didn't feel at all badly about Qui-Gon's subsequent mental breakdown or the emotional barriers he had hastily constructed. Mace only saw it as being used as a tool by the Force to teach Qui-Gon a lesson in humility and righteousness. And he had been honoured to do so.



Although apparently, Mace mused, standing against the training room door watching the other Jedi Master watch his apprentice, Qui-Gon had either forgotten about Xanatos' betrayal or Obi-Wan was a much better manipulator than his predecessor. Far easier to blind a Master who has never faced deception and lies and is willing to trust, than a Master who is all too familiar with a crafty Padawan and now lives with a closed heart and suspicious mind.

Yet...yet, there was Qui-Gon Jinn. Trying to hide the fact that he was in love with a boy more than half his age.

Qui-Gon had stood smiling slightly, every bit the calm, cool, paragon of self-government that he had come to be known for since his disastrous affair with Xanatos. Yet, it was obvious that Qui-Gon was ready, more than ready, to commit himself to Obi-Wan. To make matters even more ludicrous, Mace had noticed the way the boy stood there, incredibly tired but sweet grin aimed at his foolish Master and there had been something in the eyes...something there to make Mace stand up and take notice. A little mind touch wouldn't hurt. So...

He had almost choked on his frustration.

The apprentice was in love with his Master.

And Mace wasn't twice-lucky that it would only be manipulative lust. No. This wasn't at all like Xanatos. It was honest love. Straightforward, open, and the boy wasn't even really hiding it. The trust in those starkly beautiful eyes was astounding...and Mace's complete undoing.

~No, Qui-Gon. You will never have this one. This one will be mine, I promise you that.



So it definitely wasn't going to be easy to get the boy in his bed then. But not impossible. Nothing was impossible when Mace Windu put his mind to it. It would just take a little time, that's all, or so he had thought.

That had been more than three Standard months ago and every day had been an increasingly difficult trial since. He had followed the boy sometimes, disguising himself in the Force, so that Obi-Wan wouldn't see him. Mostly he would see him at night when he was with his friends, but there were times when he had watched him meditating in the gardens, eating fruit up at the Tower Point Balcony watching the sunset, and sometimes he stopped by the Padawan's morning workouts.

It was when the apprentice took to the shower after those workouts, that he would indulge himself physically. His flesh so heartily eager for release while he watched the boy who stood there so sleek and wet. Once, the boy had actually pleasured himself in the shower, not knowing that he had an audience of one. Mace had lost himself in that sight of Obi-Wan, had almost reached out to touch the rampant erection, wanted very badly to kiss that bottom lip that was being soundly bitten to keep any moans from escaping. He had a grasp on his own tightening arousal and had been so close, so very close, only to have it all shattered when the boy finally climaxed, the name of his Master on his lips.

Qui-Gon. Of course.

The boy would be fantasising about his Master. Mace's own flesh lay uncooperative for the rest of the day and he could taste the bitter acid in his throat when Qui-Gon had stopped him later in the hallway to invite him to dinner that night. He had agreed, superficially enjoying the company while his mind had replayed the earlier images, this time with his own name on Obi-Wan's lips as he came. It was comforting in a small way. But not enough. And every consecutive day he vowed to make it a reality.

He had been walking the floors restlessly last night when he had felt that siren's call of Obi-Wan's force signature. Closing in on it, he had come across the Padawan along with his Master, going over weaponless fighting forms and he had stood unannounced and invisible to them while they fought.

So beautiful, the skin, the lights reflecting off the sweat, the heaving chest, the taut muscles...it was all so erotic until he remembered that this young man that he desired was desiring somebody else.

Not just anybody else. No. It had to be that damned Jinn. It was always that man Jinn.

The longer he stood there, buffeted by old memories, the more he wanted to strangle that Jedi Master's throat. Would Qui-Gon Jinn always come between him and happiness?

Seething, he had to tamp down his anger before his shields buckled and he gave himself away but still, he had fumed. The Force would see to Qui-Gon Jinn. Yes, Mace thought to himself, he would be an instrument for the Force once again, to teach another sorely needed lesson in humility, and in doing so he would reap the benefits of being used as a conduit.

Benefits such as Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Too long now he had wanted that boy. Felt the deep need to touch that skin, kiss those lips, wrap his arms around him and crush him in a tight embrace. And to think that there stood Qui-Gon, deep in a grappling move, doing all of that save the kissing. But Mace could see what Obi-Wan could not. That kissing his Padawan was most on the Jedi Master's mind right then as he held his apprentice down against the floor, trying to pin him while Obi-Wan bucked against him in an effort to break the hold.

Something had to be done. Something.

Mace's control was finally snapping, like thin tendrils breaking and popping as they rent. The fruitless waiting and agonising longing all coming together with his deep seated need for justice to be carried out against Qui-Gon.

~After everything that that man has done to me, he deserves for the object of his love to be out of his grasp. To remain out of his grasp. To know everyday what he had come so close to having, to be reminded everyday what he had lost. That would be appropriate. That would be just.~

An inkling of a plan came to mind and he barely acknowledged it before pushing it to the back of his mind as Master and apprentice had turned to leave the training room.

Approaching them and announcing himself, Mace had spoken to Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon briefly, holding the apprentice back for a moment, allowing his Master to leave. Once he was alone with the boy, he could barely repress the need to take him here on the floor, possess him, leave marks on his neck and chest for Qui-Gon to see. In the end, he had only held Obi-Wan tightly quiescent as those images of another time had come uncalled to his mind. And he had been held tightly quiescent by those images in turn.

Bits and pieces of himself as a youth. So young, trusting, wanting to be a Padawan very badly but always, always did he know that he would be chosen before his thirteenth birthday. And he was. But not by the one he wanted as a Master. No.

Not by Knight Qui-Gon Jinn.

He had wanted to be Qui-Gon's Padawan so much as a boy. So very much. How astounding to be trained by one who had been apprenticed to Master Yoda himself. Unthinkable but highly desirable. So, like any Padawan hopeful, he had asked for the chance to prove himself worthy for the new Knight, who was then an unseasoned twenty-four years of age. Although permission was granted, that chance never came.

Knight Jinn took another.

Nevermind that Mace had heard rumours of the Knight's need to finish a certain Padawan's training. A deed that he had supposedly taken on as a death-oath, hard as that was for Mace's young mind to grasp. He only knew that one day he had been practising his sabre runs in hopes of impressing the Knight enough to be granted a second viewing...and the next he heard from his age-mates...that Knight Jinn had secured his new oath-sworn Padawan and had already left the Temple.

He had been crushed.

He had been snapped up readily enough by another Master, but had remained very numb for some time. Nothing had really helped him feel much. Nothing until Depa.

Depa Billaba, his now Councilmate and dear friend. Depa with her large dark eyes and satin skin. Depa that he had loved at one time.

He had rescued her when she was only a babe, her own parents slaughtered at the hands of space pirates, leaving her an orphan with no home to call her own. Mace himself had been little more than a child as well. He had been claimed for apprenticeship and at thirteen was already on route to his third mission when he and his new Master had come across the floating space debris. Gutted ships left as junk, no survivors. Or so they had thought.

Boarding the vessel and searching the grisly remains for clues as to what happened, Mace had found her, tightly swaddled, stashed away in a storage closet. Probably where her parents hid her to keep her safe, he had thought. She had been so small and outwardly quiet yet her Force signature came rushing into his mind as soon as he was near. It sounded like static, like soft noise, but the Force in any form is unmistakable. And he held her and became family to her and they had formed a surprising training bond over time.

As she grew he had informally imparted his knowledge of mind-control and intuitiveness into her and she gleaned it from him like a sponge. She was so quick to learn and he took many pains not to show pride in her, almost like a father. It seemed only natural that when he took his trials at the almost unprecedented age of twenty-three, he would claim Depa Billaba as his first Padawan. She had been only ten then and an early candidate for apprenticeship but the Council had overlooked it since they already shared a training bond and were so like minded in their Force talents. And she had been an exceptional student.

She had effectively erased the ache in his heart that Qui-Gon had left. And he had grown to love her. She was beautiful. Force, at sixteen he found her to be breathtaking, but still he wanted to respect the Code and wait until she was Knighted to ask her to share his bed and possibly a lifebond. He would wait. The Code frowned upon Master-Padawan relationships being formed but it was not unheard of. There were no problems if the Padawan was not your own and was of the Republic age of consent, eighteen, but for a Master to have sex with their own apprentice before Knighthood was usually considered a gross abuse of power. So Mace took it upon himself to entertain other sexual partners while he waited for Depa.

And that's when he had met Xanatos. That's when he had kept the Padawan as his lover and eventually imparted some of his own knowledge to. That's when the boy had wreaked havoc on the Temple community and gutted Qui-Gon's soul when he had finally turned. At that time, Mace had shown no real mercy for the boy's Master, only pity for someone so foolish to blind themselves with unrequited love. But he supposed, he should have had the grace to feel something. Perhaps the Fates had decided that Mace needed a lesson in humility and humanity as well.

He never saw his own heartbreak eminent on the horizon until it stole the sanity from his mind and crushed the breath from his body.

Qui-Gon had buried his own emotions and broken heart in Depa's body. Somehow, someway, just beneath his nose and probably when he was off bedding Xanatos, Qui-Gon had somehow managed to, at least once, seduce Depa. Depa! The one Mace had loved. Truly loved. And oh how it had burned. She had been chaste. CHASTE. Pure. At eighteen, she had been keeping herself virgin, saving herself for Mace, he had been sure of it.

And Qui-Gon had taken her First Offering. The First Offering that Mace had dreamt about for two years now. He had pictured it as taking place just after he cut away her Padawan braid. When she would finally become a Knight and was free to take him as her lover. He would never have that pleasure now. Qui-Gon had HAD that pleasure. The pleasure of being granted her First Offering. Something she would never be able to give again.

He had screamed until his throat was hoarse and then he continued to wail until his voice had been gone. Healers had appeared almost instantly but then quickly left him to push the negative emotions out on his own, at the behest of Yoda.

How could Qui-Gon do such a damned thing? Was that man corrupted by the Dark? Could he hate Mace so much that he would take Depa's First Offering and use it to bury both his misery and swollen cock into, trying to forget the bitter betrayals at the hands of his own Dark Padawan? How utterly sacriligous to take something so precious for your own twisted needs. The vision of Qui-Gon and Depa, together, had made Mace shudder, long and hard, and he wretched at the wicked irony of it all.

Xanatos. Yes, Mace had used the boy. But the boy had used Mace as well. And now the boy was gone and Qui-Gon Jinn, that Dark bastard had taken his Depa, HIS Depa to his bed. And had defiled her.

She had said otherwise when Mace had later pressed her for details. She said it had all happened willingly, but Mace knew how desirable Qui-Gon could be. He remembered bitterly how a young Padawan hopeful had wanted to be Knight Jinn's first apprentice, only to be broken when the opportunity was never given to him. Damn that man!

So, in a mindless fury, Mace had almost challenged Qui-Gon to a duel. Almost. Master Yoda had come between them and had reprimanded them both, demanding that Mace seek counsel for his actions, which he had done eventually, to assure Master Yoda that he was not touched by the Dark. But he HAD talked with Qui-Gon before Master Yoda had dismissed them. Not at length but enough to take solace in the way that Qui-Gon couldn't even look him in the eye as he had apologised for Depa. Obviously, the old fool is afraid of me, he had snickered to himself. And so right to be. So very right to be.

Qui-Gon had left Coruscant then, tail slunk between his legs, speaking to no one, not even Depa. At least not that he knew of and she had denied any futher contact with him. Mace was highly convinced that he would always detest Jinn so it was incredibly surprising that he would feel almost nothing for the man when the Council asked Mace to open himself to them almost two standard years after Qui-Gon had left. After a small delay, he had been asked to take a seat as an Elder and within another year of that, he had asked Depa Billaba to take a seat as a temporary Member as well. They had remained friends regardless. Despite the old pain that still coursed through him occasionally. Mace had never blamed her for what had happened but they had never become lovers or lifebonded the way he had always thought to be inevitable. Nevertheless, some short time after her appointment, Qui-Gon had returned again and he had felt a familiar scrabbling at his insides while he had watched his old foe searching over the new crop of Padawans. He had seen the way Obi-Wan Kenobi, a very young twelve at that time had pressed for Qui-Gon to take him as an apprentice but the heartless man that Jinn was, he had squashed that hope ruthlessly, not seeing the hurt in that small boy's eyes.

Hurt that Mace Windu was so familiar with.

And the full rising force of his old disgust and distaste for Qui-Gon Jinn had threatened to suffocate him. That old pain came back with a vengeance. He had meditated long and hard and still it persisted. Even after Qui-Gon had finally taken Obi-Wan as a Padawan he still felt that searing animosity with the man. The only time he ever felt any relief from the prodding annoyance was when he was able to thwart Qui-Gon as a Council Member. Indeed he would take some small pleasure in sending the Great Master Jinn off to the most inhospitable outer rim planets available on the most mundane or difficult tasks accessible.

There were never obvious strains in their professional relationship, though. Mace would always take great pains to deal with his own bitterness when in Council, but over time it was all festering, fermenting into a hideous living thing trying desperately to break the surface of his sanity. Oddly, Mace had learned to control it better as it grew stronger and Qui-Gon himself had come to believe that Mace Windu was a dear friend to him now. Of course it helped that Mace had gone out of his way to ingratiate himself to the man he had once hoped would be his Master. They had spoken briefly of Depa once, forgiveness in both of their words, venom hidden away behind Mace's schooled features. That had been the only time they had spoken of transgressions. It had never come up again. And he had never spoken to Qui-Gon about his own deep resentment at not being chosen as Knight Jinn's Padawan. Someday, he might show that pain to Master Jinn. Show him how much it had hurt. But not today. Tomorrow perhaps.

And finally...finally here was Obi-Wan Kenobi, like a strong white hot lance, an enticing catalyst to Mace's pent aggressions and desires and passions. Passions he had learned to trap and repress since having his soul crushed by Qui-Gon's ultimate betrayal with Depa.

"No longer." Mace pulled himself away from the lure of tormenting memories and glanced around his stately room; alone. Always alone. It was dark now and no telling how long he had been sitting here, ruminating over old scores yet to be settled and new love affairs not even begun. Sighing heavily, he stood and walked to his bed, sitting on the edge and remembering the wraith that had played itself across his sheets so skillfully earlier at sunset.

Tomorrow. Obi-Wan Kenobi had an appointment with Mace tomorrow. A language session followed by a grappling session and it had all been approved of by Qui-Gon himself. Mace had to smile in spite of himself.

And by the end of the day tomorrow, he would have from Qui-Gon what Qui-Gon had taken from Mace. His Padawan's First Offering. Yes, Mace thought, laying back on the bed and wrapping a fist tightly around flesh already swelling at the though...that would be just.



He was watching himself. Simply watching himself sitting in a familiar large chair in front of a wall-length mirror. Just sitting, wearing only his breeches. Staring at the reflection of his Padawan who stood behind him, massaging the thick knots out of his shoulders. As Qui-Gon continued to observe his apprentice, he noticed that Obi-Wan would not meet his steady gaze, just continued with the steady push and knead of strong fingers against his Master's skin.

He reached behind his head to grasp a single wrist, tugging his Padawan to stand before him, spreading his long thighs to accommodate the youth easily. Obi-Wan dropped down to his knees and almost as if second nature, as if he had been asked, he freed his Master's length from his trousers. Qui-Gon again glanced at the mirror and could tell that his reflection wanted this, his own cobalt eyes were already well slit with lust.

He had wanted Obi-Wan for longer than was strictly appropriate, but now that the boy was of age...here was his beautiful apprentice kneeling before him and he couldn't help wrapping his fist in that soft hair, tugging that sandy head forward to lap at the glistening tip of a very insistent erection.

And for some Force-forsaken reason, there was something scratching about in his mind to understand why they were coming together now. For a fleeting moment, he tried desperately to grasp at those elusive whispers and unseen images even as his head tilted to the side to afford a better view of those lovely lips opening up, fascinated as his own thickness leapt up to meet them, disappeared between them. Obi-Wan seemed so distant as he took it into his mouth, working it cleverly back and forth, alternately licking and nibbling, graceful bowed mouth taking the fullness and swallowing it down, throat opening reflexively. He didn't appear to be enjoying it though. At most, Obi-Wan looked only...committed.

As a good apprentice should be. Dutiful, yes, very dutiful. Obedient to his Master. He's doing what he should be. He is in his place.

There was an almost indiscernable flicker of resentment in his Padawan's eyes as they moved upwards to meet Qui-Gon's own, those luminous gray-green changing depths rapidly becoming colder. Even more distant, if possible. As if he was steeling himself for what he knew was coming. But how could the boy know what was coming if this was the first time they had done this?

He rose and yanked Obi-Wan to his feet, roughly covering his mouth with his own, teeth biting those velvety slim lips, tongue insistently stabbing inside, tasting the small droplets of blood that had formed... and he should have been shocked at how passive his Padawan was. How quiescent. How tolerable of the pain. How very his.

Instead, it made him smile.

He spun Obi-Wan around so that they both faced the mirror and watched himself kick out of his own leggings and then quickly begin to tear away his apprentice's as well. The cloth was ripping, and he seemed excited by it if he judged his own reflection, his teeth suddenly closing on his Padawan's nape, breaking soft tender flesh beneath another fierce bite. He used both hands to push Obi-Wan towards the mirror, then up against it, and he could see himself looking over his apprentice's shoulder and downward, apparently savouring the twinned image of lightly gilded flesh slightly flattened by his own greater weight pressing against the boy's backside.

Obi-Wan pushed back a little, inspecting himself in the mirror distantly but there was nothing in the eyes. No spark, no happiness, no joy, no pain, no anger, no animosity. Nothing.

His own large hands reached down between them, seeking entrance to the slim body he held ruthlessly, and he idly noticed that he hadn't even bothered with lubricant. No matter, in a moment he was pushing inwards, his only resistance a snuffled grunt and then Obi-Wan was silent, resigned. A single small crystal tear travelled down his Padawan's fair cheek, the only visible evidence of his emotions, or perhaps pain, as Qui-Gon pressed his forehead to the small bloody spot where he had bitten Obi-Wan's neck, nuzzling it. Quickly, he withdrew his fingers from that lithe figure, only to thrust his own substantially thicker erection there and push in with all the strength in his hips, mercilessly. When he finally came to be fully sheathed and had his arms wrapped around his apprentice like a lover, it was the boy's barely audible piteous moan that murmured to him; darkness, darkness, darkness. It was the hushed sound of deep betrayal and heartbreak and utter despair. The sound of no hope.

And it was deafening.

Qui-Gon jerked his head up needing to see his Padawan's face, and instead his gaze fell on his own mirrored visage. But it wasn't him, and deep down he had known it hadn't been him at all. It was Mace Windu that he was looking at in the mirror. Mace who held his Padawan's limp form, thrusting into him with such wicked force, regardless of the empty lost eyes that focused on some faraway point.

And Mace Windu's triumphant face who grinned back at him through the mirror...

Qui-Gon was screaming when he woke up and apparently had been for some time, judging by the way Obi-Wan was practically sitting on his chest, eyes huge with fright.

Shaking, his heart racing, cold sweaty sheets sticking to him, he suddenly found himself grabbing onto Obi-Wan tightly, decorum be damned. Dream. Only a dream.

"Master...Master are you alright?"

"Shhh, Padawan. Shhhhh...," he said, rocking them gently, although he had no idea if he was trying to calm Obi-Wan or himself. The nightmare obviously had taken it's toll on both of them and he wondered at it, utterly confused. He knew it to be only scenes in his head, yet he felt as if he had been witness to the actual events. Quickly he checked his mental shielding, just to make sure that Obi-Wan didn't accidentally grasp any aftertaste of the hellish flavoured dream. That would be...most unfortunate. It seemed to have taken days, stretching on relentlessly with it's twisted images, images he would be most glad to purge from his memory, but in reality it had probably lasted no more than a few minutes. Seconds even. ~Why use my face? What in Sith hell was that about?~ He knew instantly that sleep would be impossible to attain again this night.

"M...Master...you're...," Obi-Wan was squirming, trying to suck air into his crushed chest and Qui-Gon fought with himself to loosen his stranglehold, releasing him finally and calling the Force to calm himself instead. He breathed deeply for a few moments and turned to look at Obi-Wan, who sat staring wide-eyed, looking every bit as if he had had the dream. Oh Force, when was the last time the boy heard his Master scream from a simple dream? Probably never, he thought, but then again, dreams are never simple are they? Not if the Force has anything to say about them, which it always does. Dreams were often gifts, insights into future times but not to be held at face value, only as shady symbolism taken from sketchy flashes of truth. Thank the Force for that.

"I'm sorry Obi-Wan. I must have frightened you, I apologise. It was a dream only, nothing more." He saw the apprehensiveness in the boy's posture and he mentally kicked himself for not asking sooner.

"Padawan, did I say anything? Anything at all? Did you...ah, feel anything through our training bond, about the dream I was having?" And he was nervous suddenly. Waiting to see if he would have to admit something so vile and disgusting to this beautiful young man. But no, and he breathed silent relief as Obi-Wan shook his head.

"No, Master. I couldn't get you to wake or stop screaming. I tried to use Force but that just seemed to pain you more. I didn't mean to hurt you Master, I'm sorry if I did..." Qui-Gon had to brace himself from latching onto his Padawan again after seeing the anguish in those changeable eyes and the way Obi-Wan was biting on his lower lip.

"No, Padawan... you did not hurt me. It was just a very, ah, intense dream, the likes I've not had in years. I think I'll probably seek counsel with Master Yoda about it, perhaps a little later after I've meditated on it." And he chuckled silently, some of the tenseness loosing from his spine, noting the way Obi-Wan seemed to relax a bit after he said that. "Would that make you feel better, Padawan? If I talk to my Master about it?"

Obi-Wan merely nodded, rising up from the low bed, obviously still a little leery of leaving his Master alone. Stepping back, the moonlight slanted across his apprentice's bare chest, caressing his skin into a creamy etherealness, the thin sleeping trousers hanging low off his slim hips. Qui-Gon couldn't help but notice how the shadows hugged the delicate curves of the muscles in the abdomen and darkened the slight scattering of pale hair below his navel, and his eyes followed them lower, wondering what they would feel like against his lips and ...

Like a flashfire, he felt the nausea rise up in himself for even thinking of such a thing after the visions he had just endured and he pressed his lips tightly together, leaning off of the bed and waited for the wretch, but it never came. ~Qui-Gon, you really need to get yourself under control. This dream is just that, a dream. Now take hold of your own body, surely you can do THAT.~ He could feel the Force working over him, his Padawan's healing touch, slight and ghostly, whispering against his shields, stealthy and delicate around his body. Still sickened mentally with himself but no longer physically, he turned to Obi-Wan again, who quietly scowled next to him.

"Master, are you completely sure you're alright? You certainly don't seem alright. If there's anything I can do for you, please tell me. Would you like for me to call the healers?"

"Thank you, Padawan, but I seem to be in better control of myself now. I'm fine, just a momentary bout of nausea. Why don't you go ahead and go back to bed. It's still very early and you have a lot to do today." Classes with Mace he was about to say and then stopped.

Mace. He had watched Mace raping Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan had let it happen, almost as if it had happened a hundred times before. Like he knew that it would happen a hundred times more. And acted as if he didn't really care.

Mace Windu and Qui-Gon shared a history together and he felt like he knew the man. Would call him friend even. Master Windu was on the Council now. Had been for years. He would never do anything like the madness in his dream.

Would he?

Confused, Qui-Gon decided that yes, he would definitely have to speak to Master Yoda about this. But first he needed to reassure his Padawan that everything would be fine. So, rising, he eased his arm around Obi- Wan's shoulders, trying not to shudder as the images welled up once again at the touch, and managed to maintain his tight shielding until he made sure that the boy was indeed going back to sleep, helped along with a little sleep trick.

Once that was done, he schooled his mind to emptiness and quickly showered and dressed, not bothering with morning tea. Making his way to the Seiwa-en Garden, he folded himself into a meditational position, watching the interplay of soft moonlight that reached the gardens here, high up in the third spire of the Temple. Sighing, he resigned himself to contemplate the pebbles, their mystic outlines still visible despite the shadows so bent on concealing them. His eyes darted over the room- wide flat of the small smooth stones, taking in the general designs, how they all formed a single pattern, a thousand mountains and a million hills, like waves on an ocean. But these small crests were unmoving and silent unless you listened very hard to hear the Force singing in the pebbles, moving around them and through them.

The Pebble Garden, it's unofficial name, was like the botanical Garden, as old as the Temple itself, and had always served the Jedi as a meditational area of pure, clear harmony and peace. Qui-Gon seated himself on one end of the long rectangular enclosure under a lindemor tree and breathed deeply the smooth natural lushness of the moss and wood and earth. Closing his eyes gently, he cocked his head to one side, something his Master had always admonished against as being unnecessary, and listened to the gurgling laughter of the fountain, whispering it's quiet tones of endless renewal of spirit and mind. Smiling, he remembered his Master Yoda standing on one of the boulders off to the side, teaching a group of very young Padawans about the infinite Force and how it was symbolised here in the Seiwa- en. The trees and water were used to show the mutability of physical life, the large rocks and boulders conveying strength, serenity and stability, the small pebbles were raked and moved into visual representations of the Jedi disciplines, and how it all tied together into a manifestation of the Force itself. It was always easier to find peace here, Qui-Gon thought, surrounded by this enduring phenomenal beauty, letting it leech his body's grip on stress and fatigue. But for his mind to tap into the strength so essential to the Jedi, he would also need to seek deep Force awareness, something that might take hours. So settling himself more comfortably into the deep moss, he opened his eyes and began to read the pebbles.

Their different shapes and compounds spoke of all the living creatures of each world from which they were taken, across the Universe. How, despite that, they all fit together one upon the other, layers deep, weaving into each other for support in their display of the Jedi doctrines. There were hundreds of small formations, hidden knowledge, timeless lessons. Each one melding with a larger one, a different one, so that a different wisdom took form, all flowing into detailed instructions on Force enlightenment. The pebbles always helped him transcend self, live in the moment, abandon his physical thoughts, something he had always endeavoured to teach Obi-Wan. Something that he could use his own advice for lately. He'd had much too much trouble dealing with the here and now since he realised just how deeply his own apprentice had worked his way into his heart, seemingly without Qui-Gon's knowledge and definitely without permission.

How hard it had been to remember the depth of some feelings. How difficult to feel pain and worry to such a debilitating extent. How utterly terrifying to discover that he was in love with his Padawan.

Another Padawan.

The thought occurred to him that perhaps that was where the root of this nightmare lay? Perhaps it went no deeper than his old fear of betrayal? Perhaps.

Perhaps it was all leftover heartache and lasting bitterness that had come from being foolish enough to love Xanatos. That had been a... trying time, to say the least. In his former Padawan, he had believed he'd found everything he wanted in a lover, a partner, a soulmate. Over time, he had fallen in love with the youth and despite his best intentions of wanting to wait until Xanatos graduated to Knighthood to entertain the physical side of that love, that didn't happen. He had been shocked at his own lack of control one day, finding himself flat on his back, Xanatos thrusting deeply into him, his own mouth traitorously spewing wanton words and encouraging the obliteration of his remaining Jedi morals with every stroke. He hadn't been able to deny his beloved Padawan anything after that. Most certainly not sex.

From that point on Qui-Gon knew that he would give everything of himself to Xanatos, something which Master Yoda had given veiled warnings about. Warnings he should have listened to. Yes, he had wanted a soulbond, a lifemate, and thought that Xanatos felt the same way. And he was so very, very wrong. Tragically wrong.

Xanatos had obviously known what he wanted from Qui-Gon early on and it didn't include a lifebond. Oh, he did use that word to get what he wanted from time to time, and Qui-Gon would relent. Xanatos would use the words love and faith and honesty and honour and forever with him. Lies. All of them, lies. Always a means to an end.

And the pain Qui-Gon had felt when Xanatos finally shockingly turned to the Dark was immeasurable. Unbelievable. Overpowering and all- consuming and emotionally crippling. It effectively ripped out his soul via his heart and he had felt grief for so long he didn't think he would ever be able to feel any other pleasure besides the satisfaction that came from following the Jedi way. The singular joy of listening to the Force.

And just when he had finally become comfortable in his resulting stoic calm that he wore as cloak and shield and dagger combined, the Force decided to introduce him to Obi-Wan Kenobi.

It had been near impossible to even think of taking the boy as Padawan but the Force demanded that Qui-Gon comply. Even then, he fought it, his decisions at that time coloured with the dark memories of Xanatos. He rejected Obi-Wan, again and again only to give in, finally, almost too late, when the boy had offered his own young life in the mines of Bandomeer in exchange for the lives of many, Qui-Gon's included. The Force had manifested itself in the twelve year old then and no matter how badly Qui-Gon wanted to deny it, he knew that Obi-Wan was destined to be his Padawan learner. He couldn't deny it any longer. It was as his Master reminded him often enough, 'Jedi Master you are, Qui-Gon. Come this far into your journey by running from every difficulty you have not.'

He'd done so much to be granted the title of Jedi Master. Seen so much. Done so much. Resolved so much. And yet, he had felt so helpless recently, when he first begrudgingly came to understand that he was hopelessly in love with Obi-Wan. The worst of it was that Obi-Wan was so transparent, the boy might as well have labelled Qui-Gon's name onto his cream coloured tunic just over his heart, it was so obvious to everyone that he was in love with his Master as well, which only served to deepen the fear to panic.

~It's a sad thing to fear love as a weakness even when it's the one thing you want most.~

And, as was apparently the Qui-Gon way, he'd dealt with it badly at first, putting his Padawan through countless sets of horrendous physical and mental drills, for weeks on end, almost wilfully running him into the ground. There was a short time that he had masochistic hopes of Obi-Wan demanding a new Master, leaving Qui-Gon to his boundless reserve and cold aloofness. But no. The boy had completed everything that Qui-Gon demanded and asked for more. He always asked for more. Despite his obvious fatigue. Despite his Master's often foul temper. It had been ironic really. How even those shows of determination and courage had somehow managed to crack through Qui-Gon's armour even more.

Eventually it had been Qui-Gon who blinked first and Obi-Wan who seemed to come away a victor. But a victor of what? An old man with a scarred soul and the inability to trust completely, he thought. He had left it at that and spoken to his own Master about the boy and his own incapacity to possibly trust another Padawan after Xanatos. Master Yoda, in his infinite wisdom, merely said, "If trust your Padawan you will not, trust the Force you must. The Force is powerful, yes...teach you, instruct you, it will, as you do your apprentice. Perhaps teach your apprentice to instruct you, it may." ~Ah, my Master. Riddles. Why must it always be riddles? Would it be so difficult to see into the future just once and tell your Padawan what will happen?~ Mindful of the present, Qui-Gon, he chided himself, sighing. The future will take care of itself when it sees fit.

The future. He had meditated on it before, what life would be like with Obi-Wan an active half of it, a lover as well as a friend. But he could never get past his own bad memories, his own dogged belief in how it could damage a Padawan's training to be in a physical relationship with the Master. It went against everything that Qui-Gon had been taught. Hells, even beyond his own Xanatos-hued recollections, he'd been privy to what kind of destruction could occur when a Master was both teacher and lover to their own Padawan.

~Face your fears, Qui-Gon. Isn't there the possibility, a possibility that a romantic relationship could exist...with the right person, regardless of rank?~ He wanted to just forget that he'd even thought that but it resisted being swept out of his mind. It hung there, waiting, with a simple image of a sweetly smiling Obi-Wan and it made his heart ache and yearn for what he wouldn't allow himself to have. Never again, he thought

It was not unheard of for an unpaired Master and Padawan to come together once the Padawan came to the age of First Offering but when it occurred between two who already had a training bond, it could be disastrous. It always seemed that an established link should naturally ease into a stronger lifebond but it was the natural history in the training bond, the mindset of the student-teacher pairing, and the inability or unwillingness to graduate to equals, that could so easily damn a future together. Barely any had managed a successful union beyond Knighthood when that occurred. And then there were the few incidents when the Master had used influence to press the Padawan into a relationship. Those were the worst of all.

And that brought memories of Mace Windu and Depa Billaba. Something he really didn't want to think about too closely now that he'd had this nightmare. But of course, the Force was the one dictating his attentions here in the garden so he knew he had no choice.

Mace had been Depa's Master. He had been saviour, friend, brother, father to her. He had meant so much to her in so many ways and she had loved him very deeply...but never, never the way he had wanted her to love him, which was romantically. Qui-Gon knew this because she had come to him several times seeking counsel, seeking reassurance about her relationship with her Master. When he had asked her why had she came to him instead of the Council or Master Yoda, she simply said that the Force had compelled her to choose him as confidant instead. And upon his own seeking of that truth, he found that yes, the Force had chosen Qui-Gon as a sort of champion for her. He didn't understand why but sometimes it's easier to just do what the Force commands instead of questioning it at length.

So, over the period of time between her sixteenth and eighteenth birthday, he came to hold her almost as dear to his heart as his own Padawan at that time, Xanatos, although they never explained any of that to Mace, who Qui-Gon thought would never understand their friendship, innocent as it was. Even now, after all these years, they quietly remained good friends, regardless of the events that had brought them together. And besides, they shared a secret.

When Depa first came to Qui-Gon, she had explained that she was worried that her Master was in love with her. Deeply in love with her. Wanted a lifebond, in fact, and never made any attempt to hide that desire from her. She had tried once to tell Mace that she didn't return those feelings that he held for her. She wasn't successful. Actually, she told Qui-Gon that she doubted that Mace heard a single word she had said to him and that's when she had started to fear him just a tiny bit. It's a bad thing for a Padawan to fear any Master, let alone their own. She loved Mace so much and wanted so badly to trust him explicitly, the way a Padawan should trust their Master, but she had found it increasingly difficult when she was swamped with sexual images and thoughts that buffeted her shields on a regular basis, almost like Mace was trying to influence her mentally. And the thing that had bothered Qui-Gon the most was that Mace could very well have been doing just that.

He himself wanted to believe the best of the other Master but also found it difficult when he saw the way Mace looked at Depa. He could feel the heat in that gaze. And to think that she was with Master Windu ninety percent of the time! But Qui-Gon knew that he really shouldn't worry so much about her. Mace did appear to genuinely love her, misguided as it was and she was an astoundingly skilled Padawan, a Master-level adept with mental shielding and attacks the like of which only Mace and Yarael Poof seemed able to perform. But, Qui-Gon supposed, that's what happened when you've been teaching your pupil since they were a babe in arms.

Just after the time when Xanatos had turned and Qui-Gon had spent a few days at the Temple, Depa had come to speak to him before the emotionally destroyed Master could pack his things and leave for an extended absence after he had found meditation wasn't helping. She came to offer sympathy and support and love and, oddly enough, an apology. She had recently discovered that her Master and Xanatos had been lovers and almost took it upon herself to ask for forgiveness in her Master's stead. But she wasn't telling Qui-Gon anything that he didn't already know. He had found out the same information, in shocking unwanted details of when and where and how often...and after everything was said and done it had hurt, very much so, but he knew how impossible it was to change the past. And it was all a moot point by then anyhow.

Depa on the other hand was having trouble with the here and now and as she stood before him pulling on her braid, he knew there was something else that she wanted to say. Before he could ask her she burst out in tears and asked for forgiveness for herself as well. She had just given her First Offering to another Padawan and when she had returned to the room, Mace had been there, smelled it on her and had taken it very badly. VERY badly. He had demanded to know who, who she had given it to and the first name off her lips had been Qui- Gon Jinn.

He didn't understand why he had let the lie continue, why he had let Mace believe it. Lying was not something that Qui-Gon usually indulged in but when Mace came to him, seeking retribution, stabbing him with a Xanatos-tipped verbal assault... he knew that he had done the right thing to have Mace believe that it was he who had taken her virginity, a sacred gift. Better that Qui-Gon be the recipient of the venomous anger that Mace held for Depa's chosen one instead of a young Padawan who wouldn't know what to do with a Master's fury.

He'd never admitted it to Mace, never said that he'd actually made love to Depa, but he let the man believe it and for that he was sorry. But the other Master had obviously shown how obsessive he could be and how dark that obsessiveness could turn when he didn't get what he wanted. It had shocked them all, especially Master Yoda who had dealt with Mace after that, but by the time Qui-Gon was leaving the Temple, his Master had assured him that Mace Windu was salvageable and Qui- Gon had left quietly, with so many other things to run from besides that small lie.He'd regretted running from his heartbreak but he hadn't seen or spoken to Mace at all during that time and when they finally did come together, Qui-Gon had believed that those shades of darkness in the other Master had been vanquished.

And now here he was in the pebble garden, seeking guidance on a nightmare that had that same man brutalising Obi-Wan.

Cocking his head again, he listened intently for the thousandth time to hear the pebbles vibrate with Force. They hummed steadily, grounding him while at the same time freeing his soul-self to flow easily alongside the Force. He almost smiled as he thought of his Master who had found him here once so long ago. Qui-Gon had been so young then, already labelled as slightly rebellious by many. Master Yoda had spoken to him as he had withdrawn from meditation.

"Padawan, come to this garden often, you do, yet you do not agree with all that is written in the pebbles. Searching for something unseen are you?" His Master sat next to him, chewing on his gimer stick quietly.

"Master Yoda, it is true that I question some of what I read in the pebbles...some of the lessons... but I do not question, at all, what the pebbles tell me. What the Force tells me. When I listen, that is."

"Ah, so you hear them, do you?" Master Yoda's eyes were closed for a moment and Qui-Gon knew that he was touching the Force, could feel it envelop both of them and he felt warmth and love and he smiled.

"Yes, my Master, I do."

"Good. Eyes can deceive. But the Force will never lie. Remember this you will, my Padawan." And he had shuffled off, tap-tap of his gnarled cane the only sound.

The Force will never lie. It pulled him back from his state of mind to remind him that he was here in the Pebble Garden for a reason. Clarity. Already he was well sequestered in the Force, he only had to ask the right questions for the Force to explain what it would allow him to know. He let his vision flick over the stones, taking in the smaller designs, smaller teachings and then his gaze settled on one grouping in particular and those stones were already singing to him gently. Waiting for him to acknowledge their presence, reminding him that it had long since woven its lesson into his soul. It was as familiar to him as his own Master or Padawan and just as beloved.

'The Force tempered with teaching.' 'Teaching tempered with discipline.' 'Discipline tempered with love.' 'Love tempered with the Force.'

The Master's First Coda. Gracious in it's simpleness. Impressive in it's directness. A wealth of knowledge and irrepressible in it's own way of knotting back upon itself, a neverending loop of succession and legacy. Master and Padawan. Timeless.

Ah, how he would have liked for all his memories of being a Master to be pleasant. But no. That kind destiny had not been for him.

The Force had given him the legacy of Xanatos.

The feelings of that time came to him again and he felt the brilliance of the pain, the small flash of unresolved anger as if fresh, and knew it was something he had to deal with. Now. The Force was using his meditation on the pebbles to request that he finally give these old pains up, be rid of them and let himself be cleansed. It didn't really come as a shock that he carried them within him still, but the fierceness of those memories did. Shocking how some hurtful things can remain festering in a person's psyche, long after they should have scarred over and healed. Some physical wounds take care of themselves if left alone, emotional ones are rarely so forgiving.

So, he let the Force guide him to the hidden place in his mind where he held all his old hurts and examined them with all the deftness and care that the Force allowed him. Holding each fear, each dark thought, each feeling of inadequacy, each sorrow and each embarrassment that his time with Xanatos had brought him, he opened himself up, acknowledged each singularly, released them all. And when he was finally, finally done, he was surprised with what was left. But he shouldn't have been.

Uncovered now, there lay a small glowing corner beneath rigid shields that burned like the light of a sun gone supernova. And still a little unsure of himself, he reached out for it, touched it, already knowing it for what it was.

His love for Obi-Wan.

It caressed his fingertip like a molten mercurial creature and then surged and arced its way up his arm, threading itself around the musculature, winding it's way towards his torso. He watched rapt and reverent as he allowed the warmth and the heat of it to reach his chest, knowing all the while that he could stop it but fully comprehending that he was finally free to let it in, let it have him. As it quickened itself into his heart, he felt it squeeze slightly and he gasped just as it encompassed him, and then the light exploded outwards, burning away any last reservations and obstinate fears he held towards the type of relationship he really wanted with his Padawan.

He felt...giddy. Slightly inebriated even. And completely incandescent. He knew that the Force had given him a gift. No fear. He was in love with his apprentice and could desire it requited now, allow it requited, and not have to run for meditation like a hundred times before. Despite his best intentions to stay closed up and alone and bitter until he passed on, the Force had stepped in and helped him see that to not acknowledge his love for his Padawan would be a grave insult. Insult to himself, to Obi-Wan, to the Force itself. He knew that now. He would stop fearing love as a weakness and instead embrace it as the cornerstone of strength that it truly could be.

"Master Jinn? Master Jinn? I'm sorry for disturbing you Master Jinn, but it's really important."

He could hear a voice calling to him from very far away. The voice sounded familiar. Frustrated at being interrupted at this depth of meditation, he was about to hope that she'd perhaps go away if he stayed tucked into the Force...then she said something that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"Master Jinn, please! It's about Obi-Wan!"

He felt himself rip away from the warmth of the Force and shoot back into his corporeal body, only to have Obi-Wan's friend Bant starting at him with teary bulbous eyes.

"Padawan, what's wrong?"

She just about dissolved into a blubbering mess but managed to speel out, "I don't know if I'm doing the right thing but Obi-Wan came to me yesterday. He wanted to ask me for advice on something and I told him to take it to you but he said he'd rather not. Not until he had proof."

"Proof of what, Bant? Slow down, what are you talking about?"

"Master Jinn, I would never betray a confidence that Obi-Wan gave me, he's my best friend and I don't want him to be angry with me...but more than that, I don't want anything bad to happen to him and I'm really worried something just might. He didn't tell you about Master Windu, did he?"

At the name, Qui-Gon's skin tightened and his mouth went dry. Suddenly he could see the dream again, vivid and appalling and he was sure he was coming across much harsher than he intended.

"Say what you need to say, Padawan. What about Master Windu?"

She froze momentarily, as if she intended to not say anything after all and his patience was just about to give out when she spilled the awful truth of what Obi-Wan had confided in her. She told him everything about the other night and Obi-Wan's grappling match with Mace Windu, telling every sordid detail of what Obi-Wan had endured, of what he'd felt, how he couldn't reach Qui-Gon through the training bond because Mace had cut him off. ~Mace did tell me he put Obi-Wan in a stasis field but he lied as to why. DAMN!~ He knew instantly that what his Padawan had told her was the truth, and this was exactly what the nightmare had been trying to show him. Sith!

The room tilted and he was nauseous again, only for a moment until the haze of anger took over. His fists were tight, his muscles coiled together like a waiting serpent and he wanted, oh how he wanted to give in to the fury, to rend Mace limb from limb for even thinking of hurting Obi-Wan like that...but in less than a minute he let it pass and was up and stalking through the garden with Bant trailing closeby. His short glance at the shadows told him that he'd been meditating for almost six hours. What time was Obi-Wan's lesson with Mace? His stomach did a lazy roll as he realised that he had approved of that lesson himself! Did it already pass? Where were they?

"Bant, where is Obi-Wan now? Is he still in tutorials with Master Windu?"

"That's why I was trying to bring you out of meditation! They're gone!"

Qui-Gon stopped so suddenly that Bant almost ran right into his backside.

"What do you mean they're gone? Gone where?"

"I saw them in the hallway earlier, right before they left. Master Jinn, that was not Obi-Wan. He had mind-tricked eyes...empty...and Master Windu was with him and they left in an air car."

Empty. Like the eyes he'd seen in the dream. He shuddered involuntarily and then was overcome with fear. What if Mace did more than harass Obi-Wan? What if he wanted more than that? What if... He tried to touch the training bond and knew before the link unfurled that it was pointless. He knew that Obi-Wan would be unreachable. He tried to feel for Mace's Force signature but he already sensed that the other Master was not on Temple grounds... and he knew that Obi- Wan was with Mace.

Suddenly, his insides twisted and he saw Mace Windu for what he was. What the Force had been hinting at earlier by stirring old memories suddenly flashed in front of him, bits and pieces of the puzzle all falling together to form a bizarre tapestry of misinterpreted betrayals and revenge. In that instant he knew that Mace planned to rape Obi-Wan. That's why he had taken him from the Temple. First Offering. Revenge for Depa.

But where would Mace take Obi-Wan? Where?

"Padawan," Oh how it hurt to speak that word now knowing what lay in store for his Obi-Wan if he didn't get to him in time, "Did you see what direction their air car went?"

"South. South from the Temple. I waited on the platform to make sure before I came to find you."

South. Of course. Of course he would take Obi-Wan there. Where Mace used to take Xanatos.

"Bant, listen to me. You must find Master Yoda and tell him what has happened. He may already know but be sure you explain to him exactly what Obi-Wan told you about Master Windu. Leave nothing out. Go!"

And without another word, he was off tearing through the Temple as fast as his long legs would take him. He would get there in time.

He would.



The Jedi Mind Trick. Obi-Wan was very familiar with how it worked. Any Jedi initiate was, and learned it eventually under the supreme tutelage of Master Yoda, or Master Poof or Master Windu or Master Billaba. All of them experts in that respect and all servants of the Council. Obi-Wan knew that many non-Force users thought that the mind trick would work on anybody. Not so. And the notion that it worked on the 'weak minded' wasn't exactly correct either. Actually, the success of a mind trick was relative to the Jedi wielding the Force and early on in his training he had come to realise that it only worked on the weaker minded.

Well, he had just been shown how much weaker minded he was than Master Windu.

When he had attended the tutoring class with Master Windu earlier he had already come to understand that he had been wrong about the other night's sparring session being only a 'test', as the Elder had called it. He didn't really see the brutality of it until yesterday when he had confided to Bant about it and she had reflected the magnitude of horror at those events, to which he had practically run from her room when she urged him to tell his Master, Qui-Gon. And in his immature bravado, had decided he could handle Master Windu on his own, had hoped to coax an admission of guilt or a lewd physical display where others could see the man for what he truly was. And what he was, Obi-Wan had decided, was seriously tainted. Not entirely dark, that couldn't be possible, but nowhere near the light anymore. The man was turning.

Why couldn't anybody see that?

So foolishly he had attended his appointed lesson with Master Windu, finding out too late that he was the only other one on the schedule. This was not going to be the public confrontation that he had hoped for.

And in the classroom, when it had been only the two of them, he felt the man's strong large hand grace his shoulder as he sat and tried to concentrate on converting Pzobian to Basic and not shudder from the palpable lust emanating from the Council member.

"What else would you like me to teach you Padawan?" The Master's voice had been low, gravelled, insistent.

"Master Windu...th-there's something I forgot to speak to my Master about this morning and it's very important. Would you excuse me for a moment? I can return shortly." He had no intention of returning except with Qui-Gon in tow and the lie had burnt it's way across his chest, muscles in his slim body already coiling to stand. He knew that the Elder wouldn't believe him. He knew that. But he had to try, he had to be away from this man who suddenly seemed so much more dangerous than Obi-Wan had given him credit for.

But Master Windu had only chuckled softly and all the nastiness of the wrestling session had come back in full bloom. The all-consuming lust, the way he had held Obi-Wan tightly against him, the way that he had called Obi-Wan his Padawan. And he was so upset with his own ridiculous idea to try to draw out and snare a seasoned Jedi Master when he himself was nothing more than a lowly Padawan. A lowly Padawan with delusions of grandeur and untimely moments of insanity, apparently.

~Hopefully, Force willing, I'll have plenty of time to berate myself for this bad decision later. Ideally, when I am far from here.~

Obi-Wan had stood abruptly, too frightened to wait for a dismissal and his heart had hammered in his chest too loudly to have heard one anyway. His centre was gone and his focus along with it, he would just have to run while he still could. Terribly disrespectful but he had made a line for the door, only to find his legs has stopped moving halfway there and he didn't understand why. Then he felt it. The slight tickle of another's presence in his mind, already behind his shielding, stealthy and deadly. Obi-Wan had never been so fully aware of Master Windu's powerful ability in the mental arts, the way the man needed to speak no words with Force behind them, the way he needed no physical extension to direct the Force to his victim. And gagging, Obi-Wan understood that that label now belonged to him. Victim.

He had tried to throw the man out of his mind, tried to heave up his shields around himself, tried to move away and was only answered with a familiar distinct lack of Force around him. He could feel the Force within himself but around him it felt muffled and unreachable. The stasis that the older man had just initiated felt the same as he had remembered it from the other night and he tasted the copper tang of blood in his mouth when the fear settled into his jaw and he bit his tongue.

Master Windu had come up behind him, running a single finger down the line of Obi-Wan's back, from nape to hip, leaving a trail of chilled flesh in its wake. Stopping, he left a single hand resting lightly against the Padawan's lower back as he leaned forward and brushed against an ear with sweetly breathed threatening words so heavy with dark promise.

"Your Master neglects your training, Obi-Wan. He neglects what you bring to the Master/Padawan pairing. He neglects you. I know your strengths, I see your promise, and I will not keep myself from you the way he does. You will be mine and I will be yours and together we will form the strongest bond seen among the Jedi."

As Master Windu had spoken, Obi-Wan could feel the pressure on his mind increase, knew instinctively that it was mind-trickery but could also feel the deeper control behind it. Mind manipulation at the hands of a Master. He wanted to shout, to move, to scream, to run and the only thing he managed to do was pull away and turn to look at this Jedi who seemed to blur and crystallise and shatter brilliantly.

He hardly registered the deep, hard kiss demanded on his mouth as his world had gone fuzzed and then almost dark, but not quite. Dreamlike. Tricked.

And then bright consciousness had finally found him here. Wherever here was.

Blinking blearily, he had been able to tell that he was lying on someone's bed, in a totally unfamiliar room, with an aching head and body, and sore cracked lips. He had immediately wanted to stand and found that he could not. He was bound by air. Force cuffs, his mind had supplied, at once helpful yet incredulous. And searching the room he saw Master Windu seated in a chair off to the side and contemplating Obi-Wan with a soft smile on his smooth dark face. Something about that smile made Obi-Wan's skin want to crawl right off of his body.

Then he realised that neither of them wore any clothing at all.

Shock introduced itself to him and he felt like he was falling, unreality taking hold of him and whisking him off to a kinder, gentler place than this. He would have gone quite agreeably if Master Windu hadn't spoken to him, dragging him back to an improbable situation and away from the comforts of denial.

"Padawan, let me ask you this again. What else would you like me to teach you?" Obi-Wan couldn't bear to see that face he had, prior to all this, held in such awe... so he closed his eyes and said nothing. What was there to say? He had his own line of questions he'd like answered about what was going on here. Being kidnapped by a Jedi Master was unheard of. Impossible to grasp. He'd heard stories of Jedi abductors but they always involved dark or rogue Jedi usually in the Outer Rim. He never expected anything like this here, on Coruscant, in the Temple, to him. But why had the Councillor done this? Simple physical pleasure? Is that why the man had brought him here? Surely Master Windu knew that Obi-Wan was old enough now for a First Offering and must have hopes of securing it. Was this supposed to be some sort of seduction then? Nonono, his mind argued, that's not it. Not that simple. Something else. Something more.

"Obi-Wan...my Obi-Wan. You're going to be everything I ever wanted, did you know that? My ultimate fulfilment. My pleasure, my pain, my redemption, my sacrifice, my revenge, my life. Tell me you feel the same way, Padawan."

And all Obi-Wan could do was lay there and try to keep hold of his sanity as the world obviously had ceased to be real around him. What was the man thinking to be saying things like this? And why would he ever expect Obi-Wan to return such demented and dark emotions? He would have voiced those opinions, was about to, but when he opened his mouth his voice betrayed him in the most disconcerting way.

"Yes Master. I feel the same way."

WHAT? He was momentarily appalled until he calmed himself. The manipulation, of course. But Master Windu was being exceptionally cruel by using it to separate the body and the mind with Force. This way, the dupe of the trick would be conscious of the physical betrayal, even as they wailed against it mentally. At least until the Jedi supplying the trick decided otherwise and had the trick-victim react to the Force suggestion in sync, which was both easier to do and almost always the case. Jedi rarely isolated the mind from the body when wielding tricks as use Force in that way could very easily lead to madness in the weaker minded. Very easily.

~Master Windu seems unconcerned with any of that so maybe he intends for me to lose my mind. That is something that a dark Jedi would do. This situation is worse than I thought.~

He gathered his strength and shields and slammed them against the presence in his mind once more with all the Force he could barely touch, which seemed a pathetic amount compared to the abilities of a Jedi Master, he fretted. But there was success on some level and instantly he reached for his bond with Qui-Gon, calling across it, hoping his Master would hear him.

It all seemed so easy, too easy, but when he closed his eyes to concentrate on the slim sliver of the bond and follow it, all he heard was a small sigh from Master Windu. And when he called again to his beloved Master, the other Jedi in the room seemed impatient with Obi-Wan, as if he wanted for the Padawan to reach his Master, to alert him.

//MASTER!// He felt the joining, the link weak while the Force pulsed around it and that confused him momentarily. But he didn't want to waste time so he called again and exhaled heavily with relief, knowing his Master would answer him across the bond. Ah, so Mace Windu had underestimated his bond with Qui-Gon.

"Yes, Padawan?" Mace stood watching him intently and Obi-Wan ignored him so he could listen for Qui-Gon's reply.

//Master? Master please! Answer me! Where are you?// He was feeling a little more restless as the silence stretched on and the Elder continued to sit in the chair with a smile on his face, staring.

"I'm right here, Padawan. My Padawan." Then it dawned on him that Mace Windu had been answering his mental calls. Answering along a bond that should have been exclusive to Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon.

The man was in his mind again like he had been the other night in the training room.

He wanted to scream out at the man but his mouth wouldn't work so instead gave the bond a frenzied vicious tug and felt it tugged right back. Instantly. By Master Windu.

His body began to understand long before his mind could comprehend and if he hadn't been Force-bound to the bed, he was certain his uncontrollable shaking would have thrown him right onto the floor.

//What did you do to me? Where is my Master? Where is my bond with him? WHERE?!!// It seemed to be the only thing his mind could concentrate on getting across the undesired link.

//I told you Padawan. I'm right here. You had a weak bond with Qui-Gon, I'm sorry to say. It took very little to disassemble it but I finally finished this morning. Remember the other night when we spoke to each other in here,// Master Windu tapped his forehead in a casual manner, still smiling smugly // that was the evidence of our future together. And I should be slightly hurt that you didn't even notice it. After all, I have more than three months time invested in building that future with you, my lovely Padawan. I remember the day I initiated it. You had just successfully performed the E'ril Dinaas and you were tired, so beautifully tired. But the mental fatigue is the drawback to it, isn't it? And you were so receptive to me. That showed me that you wanted this. It's not a simple thing to establish a bond when there's already one in the way but I have to admit// Mace had settled back against the chair looking every bit as though he had won a heavily-betted game of sabaac // the other night when we grappled and the Force allowed you to communicate with me, using it reflexively, not realising what you were doing... I found it very intimate and erotic the way you spoke to me, Padawan. Inside my head. Inside me.//

//But you're NOT MY MASTER!// Obi-Wan's mental voice finally echoed the hysterical state of his emotions.

//Yes, Obi-Wan, I am your Master now. Don't you see? I didn't want to push it to this point so quickly but when I saw you together with Qui-Gon in the training room, I knew that I couldn't wait.// And he continued on vocally, as if explaining a simple lesson to an illiterate child. "I love you my Obi-Wan. I will take you far from here and complete your training and we will make a most formidable pair. You are quite happy that I love you so. And I am quite pleased that you love me the same. Did you know that?"

"Yes, my Master, I love you very much. I am quite happy with you..." He couldn't keep the words from spilling from his mouth even as he tried to get his own teeth to bite his lips together.

Yes this would assuredly turn him to madness, Obi-Wan thought.

Then to his ultimate embarrassment, his body began to writhe in the most wretched display of wantonness across the bed, the Force bonds released, apparently for the entertainment of the other Jedi still seated. It felt like his limbs were being pulled on strings, positioned and repositioned in a brazen display of his youthful physique, hips twisting and neck arching back into the bed, arms and legs stretched and gathered together and apart over and over again.

Shortly he was conscious of the other man straddling him, holding him still with his hands instead of the Force, and his lips were fiercely bitten and pulled at, his mouth plundered mercilessly. He wanted nothing more than to withdraw, to push Master Windu away but instead he felt himself returning the kisses, felt his arms winding around the large span of back above him, felt his thighs sliding apart to accommodate the heavy weight of the man between them.

It was like watching someone else beg to be taken, plead to be possessed, all the while his mind screaming at the Master to stop, stop, stop.

"Shhhhh, Obi-Wan, don't fight this. It will only help our bond grow my dear boy, and when it is strong and resilient you will thank me."

Without waiting for any kind of reply, Force-insisted or not, the Master made his way down across the throat, tongue sliding hotly across the soft fair flesh, nipping and grazing the swell of bone there at the centre lasciviously. Finally making it to the base of the throat he broke the skin slightly with another harsh bite and stopped only long enough to lick and suck at the small wound. He continued on, gripping Obi-Wan's slim wrists in his larger hands, brought them to rest next to the Padawan's sides as his mouth continued it's journey downward across the fair chest, latching onto a rose-coloured nipple, drawing another small amount of blood and a sharp outcry.

The pain wasn't the worst of it. The worst was that Obi-Wan could feel the man taking up residence in place of Qui-Gon, occupying that space of his mind where the training bond used to be, sealing his fate as bonded anew to a different Master. He could hear the man rummaging around in his head, humming happily as he made himself comfortable, all the while helping himself to the apprentice's body. It was absolutely revolting.

Master Windu had finally made his way to hovering over the half-erect flesh nestled between the softly gilded thighs and just when his mouth had wrapped around it, causing Obi-Wan to rebuke his own traitorous arousal as it pulsed hotly against that moist heat, he felt his newly made bondmate being ripped away from him. Physically up, off, and away from him to be exact.

And there scowling down at him was his old bondmate, Qui-Gon.

"Obi-Wan, we must leave, quickly." In a daze, Obi-Wan knew the hold over him was gone and he searched hurriedly for Master Windu. He saw him trying to shake off the brutal Force throw where he had ended up against the far wall and he felt a quick burst of joy at the possibility of escape. Qui-Gon, not waiting for a response from his apprentice, pulled the boy to his feet, throwing him over his shoulder and started to rush back out of the room...but then Obi-Wan could feel that weighty coldness slither into his mind again and his damned body began to struggle against the one person who had come to free him.

He was suddenly tearing at Qui-Gon's hair with one hand and beating his other fist against the strong lower back, his thighs bucking against those familiar huge arms that held him too tightly and his body was trying to wriggle itself off of that broad shoulder. The entire time he tried desperately to reach out to Qui-Gon's mind, wanted to ask for forgiveness but he could.not.get.through.

There was no bond except for the one he didn't want and that loss of Qui-Gon mixed with the presence of Mace only pushed the panic up in his throat, settling into the back of his mouth and threatened to spew from his own repulsive flesh that fought against this beautiful man that was trying to carry him to safety.

"Wait, Qui-Gon. Where are you going with my apprentice?" Sith! There was a low chuckle and then, "You can't leave yet, we have unfinished business." His Master resisted the Force-weighted words, slowed but didn't stop on his trek to the door. And then deadly quiet, "Qui-Gon. Stop." And his Master did, haltingly, as if he were dragging his boots through thick, deep mud, finally standing still while Obi-Wan's body freed itself. They stood there, him and the man he loved, side by side, caught and held, unable to move.

"Your sabre, Master Jinn. I'll be needing it." Obi-Wan was sickened at the sight of Qui-Gon's eyes going distant as he unclipped his sabre while walking over to the other Master and obediently handed it to him.

~Nononono, please Master please fight him...~

"Obi-Wan, wouldn't you be more comfortable on the bed, my dear Padawan?" Qui-Gon glanced in his direction and his eyes had cleared but were inky, the look thunderous, his mouth twitched but he remained silent. He knew that Mace was exerting pressure against Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan wondered what his Master would say if he were able. He knew what he would like to say to him, given the chance.

~I should have told him that I love him. I should have said it. Now we might die at the hands of a turned Jedi and I'll never get the chance. Oh, my Master, could you ever believe that this is where our journeys would end? At the hands of one of our own? By someone you call friend, no less. How you must be feeling so betrayed, like myself. How I love you. I would wish that I could have you far away from here and safe. I would gladly forfeit my life for yours. My Master, my Qui-Gon, I'm so sorry.~

He moved back to the bed and reclined yet his eyes remained on his Master and there he saw all the flashing rage, the mouth set into a slight sneer, the twitch of the cheek telling him just how angry Qui-Gon was. Yes, Master Windu was also trying to drive Qui-Gon to madness it seemed. Or would he just kill him straight out? The sheer power of the Councillor was terrifying in it's magnitude and he did fear for Qui-Gon's mind, knowing that his expertise lay in fighting and diplomacy, not mind trickery. Obi-Wan continued to watch as Master Windu stood and walked over to the slightly taller man, standing directly in front of him, almost nose to nose. And his heartbeat increased tenfold, thinking that he was going to witness the death of the man who was everything to him.

"Well, you're so predictable, Qui-Gon. I expected you earlier than this. What was so important that you kept us waiting, hmm? Although... I suppose I should be used to waiting for you, seems I've been doing that for the better part of my life." Master Windu didn't bother to acknowledge the sudden confusion in Qui-Gon's eyes, only went on speaking in such a calm, quiet manner and it appeared to Obi-Wan then that this had all been choreographed carefully. Mace's words had that feel to them, like something that had been rehearsed and Obi-Wan knew that he was missing something very important here. Something unsaid.

"Yes, you didn't really know about that did you? Honestly, I don't think it would have made much difference to you if you had known. You see, I wanted you to be my Master, Qui-Gon. Yes, it's true. I was just a child then but I trained myself diligently in preparation to be your Padawan. I waited for you to choose me...and when you didn't, I wasted many years waiting for you to come back and tell me that you had made a mistake in choosing another. Absurd, I know. I waited for you to tell me how perfect I was for you. How we would have made such a wonderful pair, you and I. Even while you trained Xanatos, I waited for you to say how sorry you were that you never took me as your own apprentice. But you never did and I understand now. I understand why." And then as he spoke his voice increased as he stepped away from Qui-Gon, leaving space between them, even as he closed on the bed where Obi-Wan lay.

"I know now that it's not in your true ability to return the love the way others would love you. I see that now. You can pretend but in the end, it's not real." He pointed down at Obi-Wan as he spoke. "I saw it when you rebuked Obi-Wan as an apprentice. I saw how hard he tried and you crushed him, you broke his heart. The same way you broke mine. You took my soul when you turned me away." He turned to face Obi-Wan now and spoke to him, turning his back on Qui-Gon who remained locked in place, surprise and not a little fear clearly written in his cobalt eyes.

"You and I, Obi-Wan, we are the same. We have both been hurt by the same man, we've both loved him even when we knew that he didn't want us, even when we knew how cold and calculating he can be. You and I are two of a kind. We belong together." And he leaned over the bed, grazing flushed lips softly with a feather light kiss, and Obi-Wan could only feel deep shame in having Qui-Gon witness his body return the touch.

Mace remained close but righted himself to turn and watch Qui-Gon who began to step forward slightly until they were right next to each other. Obi-Wan felt that same fear that Qui-Gon could die at any moment, that Mace would shatter his mind in a heartbeat but instead the dark Jedi smiled widely and threw his arm around Qui-Gon's shoulder in a good-natured embrace, almost a complete oxymoronic image to what had been said.

"He will make a spectacular apprentice...don't you think Qui-Gon? Just look at him." Obi-Wan's eyes flitted back between the two Masters and he felt so utterly bewildered, so completely beside himself trying to understand everything that was actually here but not visible. Things Mace was talking about, the way he would contradict his own actions, the references he was making, the way his control over them would strengthen and shift and lessen in increments, almost like he was clutching them in his hand and flexing his power over them, showing off. He watched Mace giving Qui-Gon what he would otherwise have called an affectionate squeeze and seeing Qui-Gon's eyes narrow and light from within like he was about to spontaneously combust.

"He's beautiful, don't you agree? Gorgeous and sweet and caring and giving and loving. And that body. Oh, what a body. But..." and Mace exaggerated a sigh, obviously relishing the reaction that his words were causing, "...you'll never really know any of that will you? What? What's wrong Qui-Gon? You look like you have something to say. Please, fellow Jedi, speak your mind." Mace leaned a little closer to Obi-Wan and winked conspiratorially and added, "Obi-Wan and I don't want anything coming between us so this will be the only chance you'll get, isn't that right, my Padawan?"

"Yes, my Master." The words were instantaneous and vile, so wrong, and it hurt so badly to watch the dark emotion of hatred build in Qui-Gon's eyes. Obi-Wan began to fear for his Master's ability to control his darker emotions in the state he was in. The leashed fury was alarming. It was visible that Qui-Gon was trying to resist the other Master's hold somehow, his hands were shaking and his spine rigid. At Obi-Wan's words, those blue eyes flicked over the young unclothed form of his apprentice, and he closed them gently against some unwanted vision, disgust so apparent in the grim set of his mouth. But finally Mace's hold eased so he could speak.

"Release him, Mace. If you are angry with me for whatever reason, then I will stay here of my own free will. Only I ask that you don't use him for any act of revenge. Punish me instead. I've rightfully earned it, as you say." And Obi-Wan's heart clenched to hear his Master's voice drop to a whisper. "Whatever you want is yours, just let him go."

Mace looked absolutely cheerful as he moved a step away and turned to look at them both and all eyes met carefully, one to the other. "I should be impressed but I'm not. Did you offer out of love? No. Only Jedi nobility and the Code forces you to do so. And don't worry, I'm not going to use him, I love him and he loves me, isn't that right, apprentice mine?"

"Yes, my Master. I love you." Obi-Wan wanted to use the new ugly bond to scream at Mace Windu how much he despised him, how much he would always despise him no matter what the man could make his body do, but he didn't want to risk Mace's wrath directed at Qui-Gon so he remained silent. He was relatively sure that the man knew every thought in his head regardless.

"Besides, I will have my way with you both." The dark-skinned Master cocked his head to the side and appraised them with a wide grin. "In different respects, of course, but you are both mine now. Only I think that you, my old friend, are having trouble seeing that, aren't you?" Mace laughed softly and shook his head. "I should supply an explanation at least."

Master Windu turned and sat comfortably in his chair, regal and totally unashamed of his state of undress and spoke to Qui-Gon as if to a fellow sovereign. Qui-Gon's voice had been taken from him again it seemed as he obviously struggled to speak at times, all the while Obi-Wan only felt numbness creep into his body and mind.

"Qui-Gon, did I mention that I was expecting you? Obi-Wan and I have a bond, a slight one but I can hear him nevertheless. And although he's been unaware of it, I've been able to for the past two days. Just a little something that I've been working on the past few months." Obi-Wan wanted to stamp out that wicked gleam he could see in the other man's eyes. "It's very, mmm, intimate. I like it. I knew he ran to his friend Bant yesterday, I heard what he told her and then it was as if the Fates had shown me my path. I arranged to accidentally see her this morning knowing that she would run to you and I knew that you would know well enough to come here. Did you feel me taking your bond with him earlier? Was it painful? How much did it hurt? No don't tell me, we have a lot of work to do in a short amount of time. No sense wasting it on your feelings or lack of them."

Mace was almost laughing now but he calmed himself enough to go on, his dark eyes abnormally bright.

"My old friend, how you could rape your own apprentice is beyond me." Mace was completely ignoring Qui-Gon's sudden horrified stare in favour for watching Obi-Wan who began, once again, to grind slowly against the sheets. Mace turned his attention to the youth entirely for a few moments and lounging back in his seat, he toyed with a growing erection in one large dark hand, groaning softly. Obi-Wan turned his mind away from what his actions were doing to the man and found it easier to concentrate on what the man had said. As Master Windu continued, it was obvious that on some demented level he was actually trying to impress Qui-Gon with his orchestrated plan.

"You brought him here to use him physically, only to find that he loved you, but in your harshness you didn't care and brutalised the boy anyway. In a fit of hurt pride and self-defence, Obi-Wan will mortally wound his long-time Master and I will arrive just in time to keep the boy from turning his sabre on himself." Mace held out his hand and there in his empty palm, the one not busy with a now full-bodied arousal, was Obi-Wan's lightsabre. "As you lie dying, you will see the error of your ways and repent enough to ask that I, Mace Windu, your dear friend, take your student as my own, to finalise his training and make him a Knight. A death-oath."

"Of course, you'll ask Obi-Wan to forgive you for taking his First Offering in such a regretful manner but he'll refuse and he'll be so overwrought with dark emotions that I'll be forced to make the boy forget what transpired here, to save his sanity. He could never live with the fact that he killed his own Master, a heartless man he truly loved, even if the bastard did rape him. I'll have to ask the Council to remove us two survivors to somewhere on the Outer Rim, far away from prying eyes, where we can build and strengthen our fledgling bond. You yourself gave me permission to train the boy, Qui-Gon. Remember the other day? I'll be able to tell the Council that and there will be truth in my words. There are more details to it but that's the general story. Tragic, isn't it? But...appropriate, no?" His head lolled back against the chair as he continued to work on his own stiff flesh, eyes closed and seemingly ignorant to the fact that Qui-Gon had moved to hover over the bed on which Obi-Wan lay.

Obi-Was was struck with the absurdity of it all. How did the man expect for the Council to accept these explanations as truth when they were obviously twisted? And the story would be full of implausible holes. Nobody would believe that the great Qui-Gon Jinn would treat his own Padawan learner in such a way. Nobody in their right mind anyway.

Oh.

As he stared up at Qui-Gon he remembered one of the first lessons that his Master had taught him; the eyes can say so much about someone. He just never expected to be told so much by his own Master in this way. Even with the trick ruling Qui-Gon's body, his eyes remained alive, expressive. Shock, sorrow, anger, pain, fear, contempt, despair, love. Above all, there was love. Obi-Wan's body has stopped arching and twisting and he was lost in those deep azure eyes above him, taking in all the flits and flickers. Only then, seeing all those conflicting emotions flashing from one to another, that he knew Qui-Gon was laying out his heart in the only way that he could at that moment.

If he could have, Obi-Wan would have laughed. The idea of it not being necessary to have a bond with this man that he loved and still being able to communicate so easily said so much.

A shift downward - I'm sorry.

A narrowing and a sidelong glance - I'd like to kill that man with my bare hands.

A slight widening - You're beautiful.

A half-lidded stare - I love you.

His Master was actually telling Obi-Wan that he loved him. And not just as a student. Maybe not vocally but his Master was nothing if not unorthodox. Perhaps that meant that Qui-Gon would have accepted his First Offering after all, despite the difference in rank and age. Not that the man would have much say in it if Master Windu was going to go through with what he'd said. It seemed almost comical that a turned Jedi would be forcing two people to have sex, forcing Qui-Gon to share in what Obi-Wan hoped he would have accepted regardless.

But if Master Windu had been in Obi-Wan's head, wouldn't he know that? Wouldn't he know that there was no one other than Qui-Gon that he would rather give this to? This wouldn't be punishment. Certainly not rape. This would be a dream come true and that thought made him want to smile.

Qui-Gon seemed to not be taking it so lightly though. His large body trembled visibly and he turned to face Mace and managed to stammer out, "I w-illll not d-do thissNO." It was a testament of his strength as a Jedi Master that Qui-Gon was freeing his own voice. The struggle was there as he righted himself to stand by the bed, highlighted in the white-knuckled fists, the cords in Qui-Gon's neck standing out as the muscles all contracted painfully. Master Windu's hands stilled and he edged forward in his seat looking suddenly very serious.

"What is it that you are afraid of, Qui-Gon? I'm offering you a going away present and you refuse to take it? What's wrong with you? This will be your only chance to enjoy your apprentice, once you are one with the Force you will not be able to enjoy pleasures of the flesh. I'm fond of the idea that you'll be here, around us, but not in a corporeal form and won't you be upset at what you gave up? What you could have had? Are you afraid to hurt him? Is that it, my esteemed colleague?" And Master Windu's face dissolved into contempt, hatred starkly displayed on his contemptuous sneer. The death head had finally showed itself and Obi-Wan shivered at how suddenly it appeared. "Qui-Gon, don't worry about tearing the boy. I already did. He's only a bit worse for wear, I can assure you. A little sore perhaps, but he'd better get used to that. There was hardly any blood, I tried to be careful but, hmmm...I think I did get carried away for a moment. I couldn't help it, he was...incredibly responsive. I'd say once he's trained properly he'll be a better lover than Xanatos ever was."

From Obi-Wan's point of view, the room had careened crazily as he tried to comprehend what Mace said. He'd like to deny it. He really would. He fumbled for self-awareness, seeking answers inside of himself...

Naked.

Sore lips.

Sore body.

Sore BODY.

Images flashed to him and he picked out bits and pieces, trying to carefully edit what his memory was showing him but it all came together too quickly to stop. Mace throwing him down on the bed, biting his lips until they bled, seeming to take much pleasure in letting Obi-Wan struggle a bit, there had been a bite on the base of his throat that he remembered in particular. It had been very painful and he had cried out. He twisted his neck slightly and felt the soreness there. Evidence. He remembered the dark smooth face above him as hands had grabbed his hips drawing him closer, pulling his thighs roughly apart and up, hot slick erection seeking entrance to his body, finding it in a bright blinding explosion of pain. The skilled hand that stroked him into hardness and pulled him to a shaming completion no matter the pain. And then darkness.

Oh Force. It was true.

Obi-Wan could only seem to suck air in, could not breathe out, and his body was convulsing. He knew he was hyperventilating but couldn't stop, only wheeze pathetically until Mace smiled kindly at him and instantly, his body relaxed obeying the silent request.

Raped. His First Offering. Gone. Everything had changed in the course of a few words and a moment of recollection. Mace Windu had taken his First Offering. Something so precious and symbolic among the Jedi... stolen from him. From him and his would-be chosen, Qui-Gon.

Master Windu's true nature reasserted itself as the man stood and walked over to where Qui-Gon stood swallowing, triumphant voice filling the room once again. "You're too late, Qui-Gon. His First Offering and I had it. Your debt to me is almost paid in full. He was so hot and so unbelievably tight, I think it was inevitable that he tore a little." And Mace laughed as he leaned against Qui-Gon, touching foreheads and stared meaningfully at him. "The Force allowed it, Qui-Gon. Even you can't argue with that."

Obi-Wan could see that Qui-Gon's concentration had been broken by Mace's hateful words. His Master's entire body was shaking and he looked...lost and uncertain. But in the next moment, Mace leaned very close to Qui-Gon, kissing him gently on the lips with a sad frown and then whispering into an ear, "Well, you'd better get started, my friend, we don't have all day. I'd rather that you not touch him but we all have to make sacrifices, unfortunate but necessary," and pointed at Obi-Wan.



Qui-Gon respectfully turned away from Mace and was on Obi-Wan in an instant. Beyond that the only thing the Padawan felt was pain. To have this man's lips decend on his own, no matter how roughly, should have been so right, should have been bliss but he knew under it all was a darker ambition. He would have liked to enjoy it, pretend that Mace had never raped him, pretend that he was giving his First Offering to his chosen...but he couldn't. One look at those blue eyes and he could tell that Master Windu was twisting his Qui-Gon's mind to work in sync with his body. Those eyes were no longer tortured, simply confused for the most part, tricked. He would have cruel sex with Obi-Wan, giving credence to Mace's story for the Council later on. And the horrible truth of it was that Qui-Gon would probably enjoy it at least to some degree, manipulated enough to stay out of touch with his own morality until the deed was done.

Obi-Wan knew though, he knew that Qui-Gon was still there, could see some small recognition in those dazed eyes. Then he understood that Qui-Gon would bear a horrific memory of this if he lived. This would be cruelty at Mace's hand, Obi-Wan was sure of it, to allow some small part of Qui-Gon to watch as he brutalised his own student, mingling it with pleasure. That knowledge alone would destroy his Master just as quickly as if Obi-Wan had pierced his heart with a sabre.

And then he was reminded of Master Windu's omnipotence in his mind as his own sabre flew to clatter audibly on the table beside the bed. Within reaching distance for a hurt, angry, betrayed Padawan.

Bruising hands were clawing into Obi-Wan in a rush. He was grasped and the heavy weight that he had so wanted to feel against him for so long, the weight that he himself would have eventually asked for, was pressing him into the bed.

Qui-Gon's lips were robbing the breath from him and his head was beginning to swim from oxygen deprivation. His body was ravaged, Qui-Gon's large fingers leaving a thick trail of welts and bruises behind, his Master's teeth becoming weapons themselves. He was trying to remain stoic, trying to not show emotion, knowing his Master would see them all but couldn't stop the single tear from winding it's way hotly down his cheek. He was flipped onto his belly and pulled up on his knees, familiar hips pressing into his backside as a much loved hand was grasping his nape, pushing his head down to the bed to lay his cheek flush with it.

Obi-Wan didn't move, just let himself relax against the sheets as he felt Qui-Gon tearing away his own clothes, finally releasing a full erection that rubbed against silken skin as he draped himself across the younger man's back. One large hand grasped a hip and the other went to align their bodies but then slowed, stilled. Heated laboured breathing graced his ear as he felt the hands move against him and then stop again. Feeling the tip of the thick arousal pressing against the raw entrance to his body, Obi-Wan braced himself for more pain and became aware of heavy beads of sweat that were slowly dripping down onto his shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye he saw colour, blazing a bright path down his chest to trickle onto the bed below him. It wasn't sweat.

Blood.

He tried to turn slightly and saw that Qui-Gon was bleeding from his nose. He was apparently locked in a silent battle of wills and abilities with Mace, and was on the losing end of it. Immediately, Obi-Wan surged across the bond he held with Master Windu, trying to divert some attention to make the man release Qui-Gon's mind. But he was effectively slapped back into his own head, consciousness swimming away from him for a split-second, leaving Qui-Gon to fend for himself.

"Release them Mace."

The sound of the intruding voice made Obi-Wan start and both he and Qui-Gon were relinquished from the mind hold immediately, dropped as if they were never prisoners at all. He felt relief even as his Master collapsed heavily against his back plunging them both to the bed.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" Mace was almost whispering but Obi-Wan understood why. The other voice belonged to Master Billaba. Depa Billaba. Mace's fellow Council member and former Padawan.

"Depa, leave, go now. None of this is your concern. LEAVE!" His voice was so desperate all of a sudden, nothing like the cocky hateful Dark Jedi that he had sounded like before. Obi-Wan was very aware of how Qui-Gon had lost consciousness when Mace had released them and he turned his Master over gently while trying to pay attention to what else was happening. Had Depa come alone? How had she known where they were? None of it mattered really. The only thing that mattered was making sure that Qui-Gon was alive and getting him to safety.

"Master?" He whispered close to Qui-Gon's ear, using the sheets to wipe away the copious amounts of blood that had flowed into his mustache and beard. The eyes fluttered slightly and he was unreasonably happy to finally see some true cognisance there in that precious azure. "I love you, my Master. I love you, Qui-Gon," he whispered slowly. He would have said more but Qui-Gon slipped into unconsciousness again. He understood that they were still in very much danger. Just because Master Billaba was here meant nothing. Master Windu had turned and his former Padawan knew it.

"Mace, you will come with me, now." She lit her lightsabre but held it at her side. A promise more than a threat.

"You would dare cross sabres with me, Depa? ME?" Mace sounded incredulous and very hurt, broken. But Master Billaba showed him no mercy.

"I would dare cross my sabre with any Jedi who turns. I saw this in you so long ago, Mace. You're ability to become this monster I see before me. I was witness to your obsessiveness and your petty jealousies and your twisted ideals. You have always walked the edge of what's right and wrong and this time you have crossed the line." Her voice dropped and for a moment, Obi-Wan could see a ghost of the Padawan that she must have been, her eyes huge against her fair face and her voice pleading. "Please Mace, for what you were, there's still a chance for you to correct what you've done. Please return with me. You saved my life when I was a child, you were my family and for so long everything I was either revolved around you or was owed to you in some way. I've become my own person, Mace. Very long ago, my First Offering symbolised that for me. And I'm sorry that I lied to you." She lowered her gaze only a bit and stared regretfully up through long dark lashes. "Qui-Gon never took my First Offering, Mace. The relationship that you know I now hold with Adi Gallia...it started long ago and she was my chosen. But I asked him," she gestured at Qui-Gon who was struggling to remain consciousness and was gripping Obi-Wan's arm tightly even as they watched what was happening across the room, "to lie for me, knowing how you would take it, knowing very well how you would make Adi's life miserable. She was no more than a Padawan herself then, remember? But I have no doubt that you would have found some way to make her pay for having had what you deemed should have been yours. I made that decision. I chose who I wanted to be with. It was no longer your place to say. I was wrong for lying to you. I was wrong for asking Master Jinn to hide the truth from you, for dragging him into this. I made a bad decision then but it was my decision. And now, I can see I will have to accept my part in what you've become. My responsibility."

She stood back, gesturing at the door and asked in a soft resigned voice, "Will you come with us willingly Mace?"

The time while she had spoken, Obi-Wan had been aware of all the slight inflections that crossed Mace's face and it was so much like watching the ones he had seen in Qui-Gon's eyes earlier. The man was becoming agitated though and when Depa asked if Mace would return with 'us', Obi-Wan knew the man would refuse. If anything, he looked more perturbed for being interrupted than any kind of repentant.

He spat out, "I don't believe you. I know you loved me. I know Qui-Gon changed your mind about that somehow. And now I'm only sorry that you will have to pay for that transgression as well as your lover."

His brows drew together and when he spoke there was a heavy influence of Force behind it along with a hint of hurt. "Give me your sabre Depa."

And Obi-Wan shook his head in empty denial, mouthing a silent no as he watched her eyes go empty. She switched it off, stepping towards a now smiling Mace. She nodded her head and intoned vacantly, "My sabre, Master."

But as she held it out to hand to him, her fist tightened abruptly and it hummed back on, the shaft extending itself immediately and impaling the body of her former Master, her brother, her father, her only family...and she spoke quietly, voice thick with emotion. "You forget, my Master. You taught me everything you know." And then she wept as her former saviour crumpled to the ground.

Obi-Wan's head was suddenly imploding, turning itself inside out and he could almost hear the tearing of his mind. Sharp pain and agony filled him and the last thing he heard before darkness swallowed him whole was Qui-Gon's voice calling out to him.



to be continued...

Endnotes: Try not to be too upset at Mace's non-linear thoughts and how he sometimes doesn't make sense (you may have to go back and read this again to catch some of his hidden meanings). He is, after all an extremely intelligent, mentally unbalanced Jedi Council Member so we didn't think that he'd be completely normal (even written in the third)! And to make matters worse, he's a hypocrite. Yeh, my own twist on the MeanBastard!Mace, poor sod. Also, one note on the ages of everybody involved. At the time of TPM(all ages are +/- a few months): Qui-Gon is 57, Mace is 46, Obi-Wan is 25, Depa is 33, and Xanatos(that little rat bastard) would be 37. With a little math you can backtrack to see where I have everybody during this story line, if it's not clear. If you're still confused, mail me.

"The FEEDBACK is dangerous. They all sense it, why can't you?" -Van (rebelscum@mail.com)

1