Archive: M_A, any one else, please ask!
Category: Totally AU, Romance, Angst
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Sort of, for TPM
Warnings: This one is totally out there! It just popped into my
brain one day... blame it on my total fascination with the idea
of reincarnation.
Summary: Obi-Wan discovers that he and Qui-Gon were lovers in a
past life....and they were meant to be together again!
Disclaimers: These two beautiful guys are not mine,
unfortunately, they belong to a Mr. Lucas.
Feedback: Yes, please!! This is my first fic with an ACTUAL PLOT,
so please be gentle! *g* (padawan64@mindspring.com)
Notes: Special thanks to my beta, Wolfsbride, for all her
guidance and suggestions, and her constant encouragement and
support of my writing.
Special thanks also to my dearest friend, Linda, for her
suggestions of the names for my lovely Duke, and for the name of
Ian, the Duke's servant.
Very special thanks also to my beloved Master Amber, for her
gorgeous vision of the conclusion of this story, and for her
suggestions and constant encouragement, for the head-patting and
hand-holding, and for her confidence in me, and her undying
devotion to training her widdle Padawan......Master, you have
trained me well! *bowing respectfully*
Obi-Wan was dreaming again.
He found himself trapped in the nightmare that had mercilessly
tormented him night after night, threatening to shatter his
sanity with the cruel scenario it presented repeatedly in his
subconscious mind.
He began to stir restlessly in his sleep, murmuring his words of
anguish and terror, as once again the nightmare played out its
sinister scene.
He was standing outside in the early dawn, the sky a canvas of
pastel pink, blue and lavender. Dark ominous clouds began to
gather above, with the impending threat of a coming storm, and
soon the boom of thunder could be heard crashing all around him.
He felt an overwhelming sense of doom, as he watched the horrible
scene unfold right before his eyes.
The one soul that he truly loved was fiercely locked in battle;
the impending threat of death seemed to hang in the air.
He could only stand by and watch helplessly, as his lover
feverishly battled his sworn enemy in a duel to the death. His
heart pounded mercilessly against his ribs as he stood gripped in
fear, his eyes wide with terror at the thought of his beloved
falling under the swift stroke of his opponent's sword.
The clanging sound of metal meeting metal seemed to match that of
the booming thunder that now shook the early morning sky. Bright
shards of lightning pierced through the clouds, penetrating the
earth below.
The two warriors, their eyes fixed on each other in hatred and
determination, lunged at each other with precise skill and
swiftness. On and on they continued, each seeking to bring death
to the other; thrust, parry, thrust, parry...an endless dance
that seemed to cause their anger to intensify with their every
move.
The tall, elegant dark-haired man, his face now glistening with
the labor of battle, lips curled back in rage, lifted his broad
sword above his head. He screamed his hatred, and charged towards
his opponent, who had now fallen to the ground.
His opponent, weary and worn from battle, raised one hand up
towards his attacker, the other gripping the hilt of his own
sword.
As the dark-haired man charged towards him, the battle-weary
older man suddenly shifted his weight and thrust his sword
straight up, piercing the chest of his opponent.
A look of total surprise appeared on the younger man's face. His
eyes wide with disbelief and utter shock, as he felt the sword
drive through his body. He let out a scream of terror and rage,
and with the last of his strength, he drove his own sword into
the older man lying on the ground, feeling it plunge deep into
the earth beneath him.
The older, grey-haired warrior let out a horrified scream, and
fixed his eyes on his younger opponent. "Revenge shall be
mine," he said, as the blood spurted from his mouth, and a
smile of triumph grew on his lips, as he realized his opponent
would soon be meeting his own death.
With that, the older man fell back, lifeless, his eyes open
towards the heavens, the smile frozen on his features.
The dark-haired man put his hands on the hilt of the sword that
impaled him, withdrawing it with a painful cry of agony. Dropping
his enemy's weapon, he withdrew his own sword from the still
warrior lying before him, struggled to his feet, and made his way
towards his beloved, his hands clutching at the seeping wound in
his chest, the blood running in rivulets between his fingers.
His young lover rushed to his side, catching him as he crumpled
to the ground. He fell to the ground with him, cradling him in
his arms, and began to stroke the dying man's dampened, matted
hair.
The young man began to sob loudly, tears streaming down his
cheeks and dropping onto the dying man's pain-twisted face.
"No.....my love..."
"It is finished, my beloved."
"No! No, please....please don't leave me.......you can't
leave me, I won't let you!"
The dying warrior looked up at his young lover as he struggled to
draw breath. The effort was becoming more and more difficult as
his life's blood ebbed from the fatal wound in his heart.
He reached up and caressed his lover's cheek, his expression of
pure love and devotion causing the young man to weep even harder.
"My beloved, my own," he whispered, "even though
death shall take me away from you, know that I will always love
you, have always loved you...."
"No! No....I can't let you go....please....I need you!"
The young man's shoulders shook with his anguished cries, as he
pressed his forehead against the dampened brow of his lover's
face.
The dying warrior took that beautiful face he loved so much
gently in his hands, looking deep into his eyes. He began to
sweep his gaze over the young man's features, as if to memorize
every line, every curve.
"My precious one, let me take the memory of your sweet face
with me to sustain me in the next world. It will be the one thing
that I can hold onto forever."
"No, no, my love, please....."
The young man began to rock his lover gently in his arms, sobbing
frantically.
"My beloved...I cannot exist without your love.... I cannot
live without your touch, your warm embrace, please.....do not
leave me all alone in this world."
The young man looked down into his lover's eyes, and watched in
horror as the lids became heavy, closing, sealing off that
beautiful indigo light, the eyes that he so loved to gaze into,
the eyes that could always bore into his very soul.
He felt the warrior's body grow limp, felt it ease itself into
death, becoming still and silent.
He screamed up towards the heavens, eyes tightly shut, the
screams of anguish ripping from his throat echoing into the skies
above.
Sobbing loudly, he looked down at the still body of his lover,
and whispered softly into his ear a promise.....
"Hear me, my love......we shall be reunited again
someday....our love will withstand the test of time... for our
love is stronger than death."
He leaned over and gently kissed the still warrior's forehead,
lingering, wanting to keep the feel of his lover's skin against
his lips ingrained forever in his memory.
Gently lowering his beloved to the ground, he rose to his feet,
and bent down, wrapping both hands around the hilt of his lovers
sword, raising it up, gazing at it numbly.
He took one last longing look at his only love, and turned his
gaze to the sky above, holding the sword up high, pointing it
toward the heavens.
His voice rang throughout the early morning air as he shouted his
declaration.
"On my honor I swear, on the sword passed down by those
brave souls who defended Shannara before you, that we shall one
day be reunited! Wait for me, my love!"
Consumed by anguish and utter despair, the young man felt his
strength leaving him. He let the sword fall from his failing
grip, and he dropped to his knees as the sobs began to wrack his
body.
Though swallowed by his grief, he remembered the small jeweled
dagger hidden away in his boot that his lover had bestowed upon
him the night before he had departed for his journey. He
remembered fondly how they had lain together, and how the Duke
had held him in his arms, promising him that he would return. In
that bed, the Duke had bound the young man to him with such love,
that he knew if the Duke had not returned, he would simply cease
to exist, that the light of his own life would be extinguished
like a single flame.
With shaking hands, he reached down and wrapped his fingers
around the jeweled handle, removing it from his boot. He gazed
upon it lovingly, remembering the events of that night spent in
the Duke's strong arms.
Teetering on the edge of pure madness, he turned the blade of the
dagger towards his chest. Taking a deep breath, he closed his
eyes and drove the blade deep within his chest, piercing his
heart, welcoming death, embracing the pain, knowing that soon he
would reunite with his lover and they would love again.
Obi-Wan woke screaming.
His screams shattered the silence of the still night, as he sat
straight up in his bed, head thrown back, eyes wide and searching
blindly in the darkness, chest heaving from the intensity of the
screams.
Hot tears coursed steadily own his cheeks, and he felt his heart
beat with a ferocity that felt as if it would simply burst from
his chest.
Qui-Gon leapt from his bed, awakened by the piercing screams of
his young apprentice, screams that were so bloodcurdling, so
filled with sheer terror, that it caused his heart to burn in
total agony from the tortured anguish that Obi-Wan projected
through their bond.
Bursting through the door of Obi-Wan's bedroom, the Jedi Master
quickly rushed to his Padawan's side, embracing him, enfolding
him in his arms, rocking him gently as if he were a child,
whispering comforting words of reassurance to his beloved
Padawan.
"Ssshhh, love, it's only a dream, only a dream...."
"M-Master?......Oh, Force, you really are here..."
Obi-Wan began to sob quietly.
"Hush, now, Obi-Wan, it's over....you are here with
me."
He pressed his lips to Obi-Wan's forehead in a tender kiss, then
took his beloved Padawan's beautiful face in his large, strong
hands, and gently kissed away all the tears.
Looking deep into those stormy blue-grey eyes that were
overflowing with unshed tears, he saw a look of such terror, such
anguish, that he felt his heart breaking for his young
apprentice.
"Oh, my beloved, what has frightened you so??"
Obi-Wan found he could not form words; his heart was full of
explanations, but he could only close his eyes tight, tears that
were glimmering in his eyes running rapidly down his cheeks.
His face began to twist in utter sorrow and shame, and he buried
his face into his Master's chest.
Qui-Gon held him tighter, one of those strong, comforting hands
stroking his spiky hair lovingly.
Obi-Wan could only sit there, trembling, holding tight to his
beloved Master, the one who could protect him from any fear he
dared to face.
He knew it was only a dream, but he could not free his mind from
the sheer terror of the dream becoming a reality. He knew he
simply could not survive the horror of it.
But he could not tell his beloved Master just what was haunting
his dreams.....he thought sure his Master would never believe
him.
For the next few days, Obi-Wan found that he could think of
nothing but the nightmare which plagued him night after night,
and he simply could not concentrate on any assignments or duties
that were given to him.
Even attempts at meditation were futile; for as soon as he closed
his eyes, his mind would be filled with the horrible image that
his nightmare presented him.
Each time he lay down to sleep, it would begin again, viciously
replaying itself over and over, causing the young man to become
filled with dread at the onset of nighttime, for he knew that as
soon as he surrendered to sleep, the torment would begin again.
He fought sleep, trying his best to keep himself awake, sitting
up reading, or even pacing around the room, fighting his body's
persisting demand for rest.
The lack of sleep and the emotional unrest that was plaguing
Obi-Wan began to show itself on the young man's face. Dark
crescents under his eyes stood out against the pale creamy skin.
His stormy blue-green eyes appeared almost dull, the beautiful
light that usually shone there becoming dim and clouded with each
passing day.
Qui-Gon had noticed this sudden change in his Padawan's
appearance, for instead of the usually energetic, enthusiastic
happy young man that he had always known, he saw before him a
weary, troubled youth, who seemed so weak, he thought surely it
must be an effort for him simply to hold his head upright.
Finally, during the evening meal, his growing concern for his
Padawan prompted him to question just what was causing the young
man to be in such a state of unrest.
"Obi-Wan, what is troubling you?"
The young man looked up from his untouched meal with heavy-lidded
eyes and smiled weakly.
"It's nothing, Master....I just haven't been able to sleep
lately, that's all."
Qui-Gon eyed him with skepticism, and reached out along their
bond to find his Padawan to be a jumble of mixed emotions.
Walking over to where Obi-Wan was seated at the table, the Jedi
Master crouched down beside him, looking deep into his Padawan's
eyes, searching for some kind of an explanation for the young
man's distress. He ran a hand over the soft, spiky hair, stroking
it affectionately.
"Please love...please tell me what has caused you so much
unrest...I cannot stand to see you suffer, so, beloved. Don't you
understand that your pain is my pain, that your unhappiness only
results in my unhappiness? You are my world, Obi-Wan, you are my
center, my constant source of true joy in this life."
Obi-Wan only looked away, shaking his head in total dismissal.
"No, Master, please...just..let me be. I am fine."
Qui-Gon's deep blue eyes took on a look of total anguish, for it
pained him so to see his beloved Padawan in such a constant state
of suffering. Then, he remembered the events from a few nights
ago.
"Is this due to the nightmare that had frightened you so the
other night? Has this dream reoccured?"
Obi-Wan felt a lump in his throat; he felt as if he would burst
into tears. He was completely exhausted, his body screaming for
rest.
"Yes, Master...it has....but I assure you, this insomnia is
only temporary."
"Obi-Wan, it is imperative that you get some rest. You
cannot go on like this, night after night, love. It will have
devastating effects on your health and well-being. You simply
must find a way to break out of this cycle of insomnia. I cannot
sit by and watch your health deteriorate right before my eyes, my
Padawan. If you cannot find rest soon, then I will be forced to
send you to the Healers."
Obi-Wan nodded. "Yes, Master, I will. I promise."
He looked back down at his plate, closing his eyes, as he felt
the sting of tears against his eyelids. He fought desperately to
keep them from escaping, even though all he wished to do was to
rush into his Master's arms and pour his heart out; to divulge
the entire dream. His wanted his Master to hold him, to comfort
him, to assure him that the dream would haunt him no more.
But he simply could not convey this dream to his Master.
The reason being that the warrior in his dream bore an uncanny
resemblance to Qui-Gon.
And this frightened him terribly.
During the next few nights, he would doze off briefly, unable to
fight off his body's demand for rest, and the dreams would begin
to manifest themselves into longer, more detailed scenarios, even
being rather pleasant in the beginning.
Finally, one night when he was seated at the table in their
quarters, reviewing his datapad, Obi-Wan surrendered to the the
battle against sleep and at last succumbed to a deep slumber.
The entire dream was then revealed to him.
The dream had always begun in the same manner......
He would realize he was lying in an open field, hands behind his
head, gazing up at the billowy clouds floating by, feeling the
radiance of the sun, basking in its warmth.
He would sit up, hands clutching the soft grass beneath him,
looking around.....but for what? It was always the same.....a
feeling of anxiety, anguish, and desperate longing. His eyes
darted about, searching for the one who was always there, always
a part of this existence, a being whom he so desperately loved
with all his heart and soul. He could always feel the intensity
of that love, feel it overwhelm him, possess him.
At last, he could hear in the distance the familiar sound of
hoofbeats thundering against the earth. The sound grew
increasingly louder, filling his heart with excitement and
anticipation.
He felt as if the sound was traveling right over him, when
suddenly, it ceased, and silence fell over the meadow.
He turned, and his eyes fell upon the object of his love and
longing desire.
A majestic black stallion was standing before him, and perched
gracefully upon it was what he always recognized as the object of
his desire.......the most beautiful being he had ever laid eyes
upon.
A tall, regally dressed man gazed back at him. He had beautiful
dark brown hair, the strands woven with the softest of silver. A
silvery-brown beard framed the exquisite beauty of his face, with
a pair of deep indigo eyes that seemed to bore right through
Obi-Wan's very soul.
He wore a coat of the deepest claret velvet, trimmed with gold, a
white silk shirt peeking out from beneath, and black velvet
leggings outlining the long form of his strong legs, disappearing
within ebony boots of the finest leather.
Obi-Wan found himself spellbound by the sight of this beautiful
creature perched high upon his steed, gazing back at him.
A smile spread across the man's lips, which seemed to soften his
chiseled features, and he reached a gloved hand out to Obi-Wan.
"Come, my love."
Obi-Wan slowly rose to his feet and reached out to grasp the hand
of the breathtakingly gorgeous man whom he had been waiting so
desperately for.
Mounting the horse behind this beautiful man, he wrapped his arms
around the man's waist, delighting in the sensation of the lush
velvet of his coat, and felt himself being whisked away, the
man's silky hair billowing about behind him, tickling Obi-Wan's
face with a brushing softness.
Some time later, just before sunset, they arrived at a majestic,
ivy-covered castle crafted from grey stone. Obi-Wan sensed a
feeling of familiarity with the manor, but he could not
understand why.
The handsome nobleman dismounted the horse, and looked up at him,
holding out a gloved hand. Obi-Wan took it, and dismounted as
well. Gazing deep into the younger man's eyes, the nobleman
brought Obi-Wan's hand to his lips, placing a tender kiss on his
knuckles. He looked down at the young man's hands, frowning
slightly at the roughness of the skin, the calloused hands that
had so obviously worked vigorously all the days of the young
man's life.
"These hands should never be made to work, they should be
pampered." Obi-Wan smiled at the thought of being pampered,
something that he had never known. He looked down at his
clothing, the crude, well-worn clothing of a simple peasant and
sighed. He wondered just what it was that the beautiful nobleman
could see in him. He looked up at his this gorgeous man, and saw
in his eyes a look of total adoration....and a spark of lustful
desire.
He felt himself being led through the main entrance of the
castle, into a beautifully decorated grand room. Lush tapestries
graced the stone walls. Priceless golden candelabras filled the
room. A crackling fire was burning in the fireplace, in
preparation for the chill of the coming evening.
He was taken aback by the endless beauty of his surroundings, his
mouth gaping in awe, his eyes taking in each and every beautiful
detail. Surely this was a man of high stature; most certainly a
man of nobility.
He heard steps coming from the other room, and in came an older
man, a servant, possibly.
"Good day, Master Bainbridge, I am so glad you have returned
home. Shannara is a most lonely place without our beloved Duke.
Seems a bit empty, if you ask me."
A Duke, Obi-Wan thought, yes, of course; he knew it to be true.
Somehow, he felt he had known that from the start.
"Yes, Ian, I am most glad to be home. I have been away much
too long. Please see to it that my horse is properly attended to
for the night. I will take my leisure here, by the fire. And
please, my good man, bring us some brandy. I wish to spend time
with Duncan here."
The Duke smiled at Obi-Wan affectionately.
Ian left the room, and shortly returned with a tray carrying an
exquisitely carved crystal bottle and two delicate crystal
goblets. He sat them down on the beautifully carved table in
front of the fire, and turned once again to the Duke.
"Is there anything else you desire, my Lord?"
"No, Ian, thank you, that will be all."
"Yes, my Lord."
As the servant left the room, the Duke turned to face the younger
man. Smiling, he reached out and tenderly caressed the young
man's cheek, then brushed his thumb delicately over his lower
lip. Obi-Wan felt a zinging pleasure race through his body at the
Duke's touch.
He walked around behind Obi-Wan, slipping his arms around the
slender waist, his chin resting lightly on Obi-Wan's shoulder,
turning to place a tender kiss on the young man's ear. Obi-Wan
felt a fire rush to his groin at the touch of the Duke's lips,
thinking just how wonderful it would be to feel those elegant
lips gently gliding over his body, exploring him, tasting him.
"My Precious One, my beloved Duncan....how I have longed to
feel you in my arms once again."
The young man's eyes widened...yes, Duncan... the name...his
name...yes, he knew it, he could feel it. It had to be his given
name, for it seemed so right, so naturally his own.
Turning the young man to face him, The Duke took the young man's
face gently in his hands, tilting it upwards, and leaned in for a
kiss.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes, feeling the Duke's thumbs caressing his
cheeks, and leaned forward, anticipating the touch of their lips,
wanting desperately to feel those lips on his, devouring him.
As their lips met, Obi-Wan began to feel as if this was so
familiar, so right. His mind was suddenly flooded with images of
himself and the Duke, lying together behind the silken hangings
of a curtained bed, tenderly making love.
He gasped at the images that were filling his brain; his heart
was beating so wildly, it felt as if it would simply burst from
his chest.
He opened his mouth eagerly to the kiss, welcoming the delicious
feel of the silky tongue touching his own, tasting him, exploring
him, as he himself explored the satiny depths of the Duke's
mouth.
They remained locked together, kissing hungrily, as the Duke
enfolded Obi-Wan in his arms, pressing the young man's body to
his, his growing erection pressing against Obi-Wan's thigh,
causing the young man to moan lightly.
Finally, the Duke drew back, breaking the kiss, much to Obi-Wan's
dismay, and smiled again at the young man, his beautiful indigo
eyes captivating Obi-Wan, entrancing him.
"Come, my Precious One, let us enjoy a bit of brandy, for
tonight, we celebrate my homecoming."
The Duke poured the crimson liquid into the two crystal goblets,
giving one to Obi-Wan and seating himself on the floor next to
the young man.
The fire crackled and sparked in the stone fireplace, emanating a
warmth that began to envelop the young man, soothing muscles worn
sore from the day's labor.
The Duke reached out and gently stroked Obi-Wan's golden hair,
running his fingers through it and letting it fall back to the
young man's shoulders. Obi-Wan touched the long strands in
surprise, for he could not remember ever having hair that reached
his shoulders.
"Ah, yes, my Precious One, I had forgotten just how
beautiful you are....so perfect, so breathtaking..... so
mine."
The young man stared into the expressive eyes of the Duke,
sipping his brandy gingerly. Oh, how the drink warmed him inside,
sending him into a state of complete relaxation.
It seemed that the Duke watched his every move, as if enthralled
by every gesture the young man made; his eyes were fixed intently
on the young man's lips as Obi-Wan sipped from the crystal glass.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes, letting the fire and the brandy warm
him, and felt the glass being taken from his hand. He opened his
eyes, and found himself staring into the eyes of the Duke, and
saw those beautiful indigo eyes grow darker with the unmistakable
fire of passion and lust.
The Duke's eyes never left the young man's as he placed both
glasses on the floor. He reached out to the young man and
caressed his cheek, smiling at the young man with complete
adoration.
He then rose to his feet, and held out his hand, not saying a
word, his eyes still fixed on the one he loved so much. Obi-Wan
reached out, placing his hand in the Duke's and allowed himself
to be lifted to his feet.
The Duke was leading him towards the adjoining room, past
gorgeous paintings which graced the castle walls with gilded
beauty, and into a much grander room, a bedroom; the Duke's
bedroom possibly, and the young man stopped dead in his tracks
when his eyes fell upon the sight before him.
A grand, ornately carved four-poster bed, wrapped in delicate
silk curtains lay before him... and he recognized it as the exact
same bed as the one he had envisioned in his mind as the Duke was
kissing him!
His heart began to race again, and he became so confused...he
knew this bed; he had lain there before, yes, he knew it had to
be true, for it felt so right....suddenly the images flooded his
mind once again, and he saw himself and the Duke lying in that
bed, bodies entwined, hands exploring, mouths tasting, devouring
one another in a heated passion that seemed to be
inextinguishable.
"What is it, my Precious One?", the Duke asked, looking
at him inquisitively.
The young man found it impossible to form words.
Laughing softly, the Duke drew the young man forward, towards the
magnificent bed. A fire crackled and hissed in the ornate
fireplace against the opposite wall, filling the room with an
amber glow, causing light shadows to dance upon the silken
hangings surrounding the bed.
Pulling the diaphanous drapings of the bed aside, the Duke gently
wrapped his strong arms around his lover and lowered the young
man onto the soft bedding. The feel of the Duke's body against
him caused the young man to gasp with delight, as he relished in
being held by the one with whom he felt so perfectly matched, as
if he had loved him forever.
The young man felt tender kisses being placed upon every inch of
his face; his forehead, his brow, his eyelids, his cheeks, and
finally, his mouth. He felt himself being devoured once again by
those beautiful lips, and he surrendered to it completely,
wanting to lose himself in that kiss for all eternity.
Finally, the Duke raised up, breaking the kiss, causing the young
man to groan in utter disappointment. He backed up off the bed,
and began to unfasten the shining gold buttons of his exquisite
velvet coat, his eyes still fixed on the young man's face.
Obi-Wan watched with growing excitement as the Duke removed first
his jacket, then the billowy white silk shirt, revealing the
man's beautifully muscled torso beneath.
Obi-Wan felt his breath catch at the sight of this gorgeous man,
partially unclothed, and waited anxiously for him to continue.
The Duke reached down and unfastened his ebony leather boots, and
removed them, his eyes still locked on the object of his desire.
He reached down and untied the drawstring of his black velvet
leggings, and slid his thumbs under the waistband on each side of
his body, coaxing the leggings down, revealing strong muscled
thighs, the velvet cloth sliding seductively down his legs,
pooling onto the ground.
Obi-Wan's heart pounded with anticipation.
He let his eyes wander over the magnificent form of this man who
stood before him, completely naked and beautiful, and felt the
stirrings of arousal grow deep within him, the fire of lust
rushing straight to his groin.
The Duke then walked over to the bed, and gently coaxed the young
man's thighs apart. Standing between them, knees against the bed,
he leaned over and untied the drawstring of his lover's muslin
pants, easing them down over his slender hips.
A feral smile crept upon the Duke's lips at the sight of his
love's now throbbing erection. He looked up into the young man's
beautiful stormy blue-green eyes which were peering out at him
beneath delicate gold lashes.
The young man's breathing came in rapid, shallow gasps, his
excitement building in eager anticipation of the Duke's next
move.
The Duke reached down and unfastened the young man's worn leather
boots, dropping them onto the floor beneath.
Then came the whispered command, "Remove your tunic, my
love."
The young man obeyed, pulling his simple laborer's tunic over his
head, exposing his youthful frame, well muscled from years of
hard labor.
The Duke sighed at the beautiful sight which lay before him.
He leaned over and pressed his body against his lover's, his
silvery-brown hair brushing against the young man's chest,
causing Obi-Wan to moan with delight at the touch of those silky
strands against his bare skin.
The young man gasped as their erections touched, and he began to
grind his hips against the Duke's, wrapping his arms around the
strong body of his lover, holding tightly onto him as if he would
simply die if they were to separate.
Arching his head back, he felt the Duke shower tender kisses upon
his neck, gently nipping at the tender flesh, then moving up to
whisper in his ear.
"Ahh, Precious One, how I have longed to feel your body
against me once again. I have spent many nights dreaming only of
the touch of your skin against mine, feeling you overwhelmed
beneath me, trembling in your ecstasy."
The words sent the young man into a frenzy, and he grabbed the
Duke's face in both hands and kissed him deeply, a moan escaping
from deep inside his throat, as he wrapped his legs around the
Duke's hips, grinding against him desperately.
Breaking the kiss, his tongue teasing lightly at the young man's
lower lip, the Duke began to blaze a trail down his lover's body,
slowly tracing first the strong chin, then the graceful neck,
working his way slowly down to the young man's nipples, lingering
on first one, then the other, feeling them harden under the
flickering touch of his tongue.
The young man groaned in his passion, the need to become one with
his lover growing more and more urgent, as he arched his body
upwards against the delicate, maddening touch of the Duke's
mouth.
The Duke felt his desire overwhelming him, and he fought back the
urge to ravish the young man quickly, claiming him once again as
his own. He wanted his young lover to be fully prepared for their
union, his body willing and hungry for release.
He slid downwards and felt his lover's breathing become more
rapid, as he gasped for breath at each maddening touch of the
Duke's tongue.
The young man cried out as he felt that silky mouth engulf his
erection, devouring it entirely in that warmth, and he lifted his
upper body off the bedding, crying out in desperation and hunger.
"Oh, my love....YES....OH!"
He felt his body undulating uncontrollably, as the Duke held him
in that warm, silky heat, rendering him completely helpless and
trembling with growing need.
As he felt the fire of ecstacy creeping up into his loins, he
felt himself being released from that exquisite warmth, causing
him to cry out in sheer frustration.
He heard the unmistakable clink of crystal and looked up to see
the Duke reaching for a beautifully carved decanter of amber
fluid from the bedside table. He saw his lover open the bottle
and pour the sensuously thick oil into his fingers, rubbing them
gently together.
He closed his eyes in anticipation, and lay back against the bed.
He became aware of one of those beautiful long oiled fingers
touching him lightly in that most intimate of places, then
pressing in, preparing him, spiking his desire further. Two
fingers, and he began to moan in desperation and hunger. Three
fingers, and he was crying out, begging his lover for more.
"Please!....Oh, please....."
"What is it you want, my love, my Precious One,"
The young man felt as if he would scream, his body begging for
release, his entire being a frenzy of hungry desire for this
beautiful man.
"Please, take me, my love...make me yours...NOW!"
Growling in passion and lust, the Duke reached down and grabbed
the young man's thighs, and took first one leg, then the other,
and lifted them over his shoulders.
Beautiful stormy blue-green eyes stared back at him, enflamed
with desire, the beautiful young man laying beneath him panting
and writhing, whimpering for his touch.
He reached down and poured more of the amber oil into his palm,
and began to spread it over the length of his erection,
shuddering lightly at the touch of the cool fluid against the
skin, running down the shaft.
He leaned over the young man, propping his elbows on the bedding
on either side of the young man's chest, and slowly entered him.
He gasped at the feel of that delicious warmth sheathing him,
bringing the two of them together once again.
The young man's face flushed suddenly and a sharp gasp escaped
his lips, his body pushing down towards that part of his lover
which filled him so completely, binding them together as one
being, one love, one entity.
He looked up into those beautiful indigo eyes that left him
spellbound and speechless, and felt them burn into his very soul.
The Duke gazed back lovingly into his lover's stormy blue-green
eyes, his voice a passionate whisper.
"Say my name."
The young man looked questioningly into his lover's eyes.
"I love to hear you say my name...say my name, Duncan."
Somehow the name was on Obi-Wan's lips before he had the chance
to search his memory for the answer.
"Colin", he whispered. "Colin, my love."
Obi-Wan's eyes grew wide in amazement, his heart seeming to
freeze at the name he had just uttered. How had the name come
into his mind? The Duke had never mentioned his first name; nor
had he heard Ian, the Duke's faithful servant, speak his first
name at any time.
Somehow, it just seemed so right, so exquisitely perfect.
So undeniably true.
A passionate moan escaped the Duke's lips, his entire being
becoming filled with love and desire at hearing his lover whisper
his name.
Slowly, the Duke began to move over his young lover, thrusting
gently but urgently, feeling the young man's body pushing forward
to meet those thrusts, hearing him moan with growing passion at
each stroke of the Duke's body as he slowly moved within him.
Obi-Wan felt himself trapped in a fire of ecstasy, his body a
jangle of nerve endings, searing with the sensation of pure
pleasure. He felt as if he would go mad if the Duke kept up his
slow, maddening strokes. Baring his teeth, he looked up into the
Duke's eyes, finding them to be staring back at his, emblazoned
with lust, and he growled as he pushed himself harder towards the
Duke's body, impatiently hungry for release.
"Harder...yes...please...more....."
The Duke's thrusts began to gain momentum, and he was panting
heavily, the sweat glistening on his sculpted form, as he pounded
into his lover with an urgency that seemed to grow with each hard
thrust.
The young man began to groan louder, as he felt the sharp fire of
ecstasy raging towards his groin, bringing the promise of
release. He felt the Duke pull himself up higher over his body,
angling his thrusts in such a way that sent a zinging pleasure
coursing through the young man's body, pressing against that
sensitive spot deep within him, sending him spiraling towards
ecstasy.
He arched back, crying out, and came violently, pearly strands of
semen coating his stomach and chest, his body convulsing with the
intensity of his orgasm.
This was more than the Duke could bear, and he felt the raging
fire rush to his groin, causing his erection to swell and pulse
inside his lover's body, and throwing his head back, he cried out
his his lover's name as he convulsed uncontrollably, spilling his
seed deep within his lover.
The Duke collapsed over the young man's body, as the two of them
gasped for breath, their hearts pounding wildly, trying
desperately to regain some form of normal breathing.
After a few moments, their normal breathing resumed, and the Duke
began to tenderly kiss his lover's face, that face he loved more
than his own life, kissing the dampened brow, the flushed cheeks,
the full lips swollen from endless kisses.
"My Duncan, my own, " he whispered lovingly, "at
last we are as one again..one flesh, one love, one being. And I
shall never leave your side, my Precious One, for we shall be
together for all eternity."
The young man wrapped his arms tightly around his love, wanting
to hold him forever, his heart filling with eternal and tender
love for this incredible man.
He simply wanted this night to last forever.
The young man awoke to the distant whinny of horses.
He sat upright in the magnificent curtained bed, his eyes wide,
listening.
It was just before dawn; he could barely make out the assorted
angles and shapes of the room, as the fire from the previous
evening had long since burned out, leaving the room in total
darkness.
He felt the side of the bed to his left, and to his dismay found
it empty and cold. His lover had already risen; but why did the
Duke not awaken him? Could he have left him lying asleep all
alone, without so much as a farewell?
Surely not, he thought, and swung his legs over to the edge of
the bed. He pushed aside the silken hangings draped around the
bed, and reached over to the bedside table until his fingers
found the cold metal of the candelabra.
As he lit the tapers of the candelabra, the room became
illuminated; delicate shadows danced along the stone wall. He
slid off the bed, feeling a shiver course through him as his bare
feet met the cold floor.
Setting the candelabra back onto the bedside table, he reached
over and pulled on his simple laborer's pants, frowning at the
rough texture, having become accustomed to the velvety feel of
the plush bedding of the Duke's magnificent bed, which he found
to be the most luxurious material ever to touch his skin.
Throwing on his tunic and stepping into his boots, the young man
once again seized the candelabra and headed through the bedroom
door.
He made his way quickly through the grand room of the castle,
past the gorgeous paintings and priceless works of art, which he
paid no attention to as he did the night before, being that his
only concern was the whereabouts of his beloved Duke.
He was curious also as to the whereabouts of Ian, the Duke's
devoted servant.
"Ian?....Ian are you here?", the young man called out.
Ian was nowhere to be found.
Confused and slightly uneasy, the young man began to search the
magnificent grand room for signs of the Duke or Ian.
Just as he was about to climb the curved stone staircase, he
heard a commotion outside.
The sound of two men shouting could be heard over the wail of the
wind whipping around the castle walls, bringing the threat of an
impending storm. One of the voices was clearly that of his
beloved Duke.
He rushed over to the arched window and gazed through the milky
glass.
What he saw made his heart stop.
His lover was standing just outside, his sword held formidably in
his strong grip, poised as if ready for battle. Standing just in
front of him, perched on a coal black steed, was another man, an
older, grey-haired man who held his own sword pointed towards the
Duke.
Fearful of his lover's safety, the young man rushed to the front
doors and shoved past them, feeling the wind whip at his
clothing, the chill of the wind seeming to cut right through him.
The grey-haired man was glaring down at the Duke with such
hatred, such rage, as he began to shout his battle threat over
the howl of the wind.
"Colin Bainbridge, Duke of Shannara", he roared,
"at last we meet again. I have been eagerly awaiting this
day."
The Duke glared back at him, his dark blue eyes narrowing.
"Angus McSwain! How dare you set foot on my land!
Duncan's heart began to race as he feared for his lover's life.
The grey-haired warrior dismounted his horse, walking closer to
the Duke. He stopped a few feet before the Duke, and assumed a
battle stance, lifting his broadsword, ready to drive it deep
into his enemy's heart.
The Duke stood tall, his own sword held firmly in his strong
grasp, as he glared at his sworn enemy with darkening eyes.
With a shrill battle cry, McSwain lunged forward, thrusting his
sword towards the Duke. The Duke met his enemy's blade with his
own and the two began to parry and thrust, their eyes locked on
each other, as they battled each other in a fight to the death,
each one intent on seeing the blood of his enemy spill onto the
earth below.
The clanging of swords became mixed with the distant rumble of
the coming storm. The howling of the wind seemed to increase,
drowning out the battle cries and grunts from the two warriors,
and the pink of dawn peered gingerly out from behind the
threatening clouds that had now gathered in the early morning
sky.
Duncan could only stand by and watch in horror as his lover
fought for his life in a battle that seemed to go on without end.
Obi-Wan jerked suddenly awake, letting out a piercing scream.
His eyes were wide and filled with terror, as he gasped for
breath, his heart pounding madly in his chest. The young man's
face began to twist in sorrow at the realization that he had once
again been tormented by the nightmare which had ceaselessly
plagued him for what seemed an eternity.
He realized that he had been sitting at the table, his datapad
next to him, and had fallen asleep from the utter exhaustion that
his body had been suffering from day after day.
His eyes darted to the door to their shared quarters, as he heard
Qui-Gon's hurried footsteps from down the hall, rushing to
respond to his Padawan's despairing cry.
The Jedi Master burst through the door, and immediately rushed to
his Padawan's side.
"Oh, beloved, were you dreaming again?," he asked,
holding Obi-Wan's tear-streaked face in his hands.
"Y-yes, Master...it is the same dream, the dream which never
ceases to torment me, night after night, day after day. I feel as
if I will never be free from this nightmare!"
Obi-Wan had a look of desperation and pure misery in his eyes.
This was more than Qui-Gon could bear. He wrapped his arms around
his Padawan, stroking his hair, as he tried to soothe him, to
ease his anguish.
"Hush, now, my Precious One, we wi-"
Obi-Wan jerked back with a start at the sound of those words.
His eyes widened with a look of complete shock.
Qui-Gon was taken aback by his Padawan's most peculiar reaction
to his words.
"Padawan, what ever is the matter? You look as if you have
seen a ghost! What did I say to frighten you so?"
Obi-Wan continued to stare dumbfounded at his Master, startled by
the term of endearment he had addressed him with.
My Precious One.........he shuddered at the sound of that name.
Why did his Master address him by that name...how could he
have......
The realization struck him like so many blades to his heart.
Yes! It was more than just a resemblance...it was HIM,
Qui-Gon....HE was the Duke!
It was all beginning to come together now...the dreams.......he
knew it to be true....HE was Duncan and he had once loved the
Duke with all his heart and soul...as he now loved Qui-Gon....and
they were lovers then as they were now......two souls, refusing
to be separated by death....truly, they were meant to be together
forever!
Obi-Wan began to tremble, struck by this newfound knowledge...his
mind was racing with questions he could not answer. He found he
could not speak; he simply could not form the words Still, he
continued to stare helplessly at the man whom he knew to be his
one true soulmate.
Qui-Gon's usual stoic Jedi calm was being sorely tested, and
Obi-Wan could sense his growing anxiety radiating through their
bond. He could see the definite lines of worry on that face he so
loved.
Qui-Gon bent down in front of Obi-Wan and took his hands in his,
looking up into the young man's eyes with such love and concern,
his own deep blue eyes pleading, as if searching the depths of
Obi-Wan's soul for the source of his anguish.
"Please, love..please tell me what is causing you this
distress ...can't you let me help you? Let me in your heart,
please, my Obi-Wan...do not shut me out."
Obi-Wan could only look at his lover in lament, for he himself
was having a difficult time grasping all of this..the dream...the
reality that he had lived before, that Qui-Gon had lived before,
that he and Qui-Gon had loved one another with an intensity that
had even defied death itself.
He jumped up, tearing himself away from Qui-Gon's grasp, and
walked towards the entrance to their quarters. He stopped right
at the door without turning around.
"I..I can't talk about it...please..Master, you would never
believe me."
"Oh, but you are wrong, love...whatever it is you have to
say..trust me, I will truly listen and try my best to
understand."
Obi-Wan said nothing, but opened the door and left the room,
leaving the Jedi Master consumed with questions.
Qui-Gon wanted desperately to run after him, to take him in his
arms and beg him to tell him what was troubling him, but he
thought it best to leave the young man alone with his thoughts.
He was certain that Obi-Wan would return when he was ready to
explain everything to him.
Time passed; still no Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon had been meditating,
desperately seeking some sort of feeling or explanation as to
what was causing his Padawan to have such horrible nightmares. He
thought maybe he would be given a sign, a notion as to what could
possibly have happened to cause him such dismay.
What could possibly be causing these recurring nightmares? And
how could his beloved Padawan, who had always been so open and
honest and had shared his every thought with him, how could he
have shut him out like this, so coldly, closing him off from his
mind completely, leaving him with questions unanswered.
He could find no explanation.
Then, it struck him. His eyes snapped open.
The dreams. The dreams had something to do with him. This was the
only explanation he could find for his beloved Padawan to have
shut him out so completely, closing him off from all his thoughts
and feelings. This had to be the reason for Obi-Wan to have been
so terribly distraught.
Only fear for his beloved Master could turn the joyful young man
into the despondent, tortured man he saw before him only hours
ago. It was the only explanation for the dreams that had been
plaguing Obi-Wan, imprisoning him in a cruel cycle of insomnia
that had gone on far too long.
He would speak of this to his Padawan when he returned.
The minutes crept by, turning into hours. While waiting for
Obi-Wan's return, Qui-Gon decided to catch up on some reading he
had put previously put aside in lieu of some free time. He
immersed himself in his reading, trying to take his worrying mind
off of his Padawan's peculiar behavior.
As time passed, he felt his eyelids grow heavy with fatigue; the
hour was becoming quite late, and he was exhausted. He shook his
head to rouse himself, not wanting to give in to sleep, wanting
to be fully alert when his Padawan returned. Obi-Wan had fled so
suddenly, having been so distraught over the dream which had
earlier caused him to cry out in terror.
After a few minutes, he lost the battle against sleep, and found
himself descending into a deep slumber.
His worried mind presented him with a most unusual dream.
Cool wind brushing against his cheek. The sound of a horse's
thundering hoofbeats as he raced over lush green hills and
valleys, the black stallion beneath him swiftly galloping towards
the setting afternoon sun.
Gloved hands firmly gripping the reins as he raced on and on,
intent on his destination with a sort of urgency, goading the
beast beneath him faster and faster towards the east.
As he raced towards the horizon, he caught sight of a lone figure
in the distance; a young man, lying atop the grassy field. His
heart raced as he drew nearer to the figure, becoming overwhelmed
with feelings of anticipation and joy.
He saw the young man sit upright, as if expecting his arrival.
Qui-Gon finally reached the young man, and brought his horse to a
halt. His heart still pounding madly, he felt his breath catch as
the young man standing before him turned to face him.
The beautiful stormy blue-green eyes that gazed back at him were
unmistakingly familiar.
Obi-Wan.
The striking young man who stood before him now, dressed in
crude, simple laborer's clothing was the very image of the young
man he had taken as his apprentice so many years ago.
Qui-Gon awoke with a start, his eyes wide, his heart racing
madly. His mind became filled with endless questions...the young
man...why did he bear such a strong resemblance to Obi-Wan? Who
was he? Why was he waiting for him?
Running a hand through his long, silvery-brown hair, the Jedi
Master rose to his feet, and began pacing the room, pondering the
many questions the dream had presented him with.
Gazing out the window of their quarters, he noticed the sun
setting in the Coruscant sky, its rays now a golden amber glow,
radiating over the lines of the city's towers.
Obi-Wan.
It had gotten very late indeed, and Obi-Wan still had not
returned.
Reaching out through their bond, he felt an overwhelming sense of
anguish radiating from the young man.
He turned and immediately hurried through the door of their
quarters to find his distressed Padawan.
Obi-Wan was sitting on the floor of the empty practice room, his
legs drawn up against his chest, his arms wrapped around them.
Leaning his head against the wall, he closed his eyes, wondering
just how he could convey the dream to his Master and make him
understand just how unsettling it was for him.
He knew in his heart that the man he had loved in the dream, the
Duke of Shannara, was indeed his beloved Master, Qui-Gon Jinn,
the man he now loved more than his own life. Just how would he
make Qui-Gon believe it and accept the fact that they had lived
before, that they were meant to be together forever.
He heard footsteps running down the hall just outside and
immediately knew just who they belonged to.
Qui-Gon rushed through the door, a look of total confusion in his
eyes. "My dear Padawan, what is wrong? What is it that you
cannot tell me, that you feel necessary to keep within you? Don't
you realize that this is destroying you? Please, I cannot bear to
see you in such pain, my Precious One, I -"
"No! Don't call me that! Why did you call me that?"
Obi-Wan burst into tears, hiding his face behind his hands.
Qui-Gon gazed back at him in utter amazement.
Taking him into his arms, the Jedi Master began to whisper
soothing words, holding him safely in his embrace, reassuring him
that everything would be fine, that he could in fact tell him
what was causing him such distress.
Obi-Wan gazed up at his Master with pleading, tear-filled eyes.
"Master, you will never believe me. It's the dream. It has
revealed something to me, something that I have never imagined
possible, something that frightens me down to my very soul."
Qui-Gon took his apprentice's shoulders in his large hands and
gently pushed him back so he could look into his eyes.
"Whatever it is, my love, we can work through it. Please,
let me help you. Tell me your dream. I am eager to hear it,
please. If it is causing you this much pain, maybe I can help you
rid yourself of these worries."
Obi-Wan sighed, looking up affectionately at his Master, a sad
expression on his own beautiful features. He sat down on the
floor next to Qui-Gon and explained in detail the dream in its
entirety.
Qui-Gon could only stare back at Obi-Wan as his Padawan revealed
detail after detail of his haunting dream.
He felt a chill rush through him as Obi-Wan spoke, a sense of
dread overwhelming him, as he realized that Obi-Wan had just
described the same exact scene as he himself had dreamt only
hours ago.
The young man who had been waiting for him in that grassy field,
dressed in pauper's clothing, was his Obi-Wan, and the nobleman
on the horse whom his Padawan had described that had loved the
young man with all his heart and soul bore an uncanny resemblance
to he himself. Qui-Gon.
The similarities had to be more than mere coincidence. They were
just far too identical to be dismissed.
Then the realization struck him as if it were a blow to the
heart.
They had lived before; they had loved before. and now they had
returned to one another, reuniting in this life as Master and
Padawan.
He felt himself grow pale as Obi-Wan continued with the events of
his disturbing dream.
When Obi-Wan had finished, he looked up to see his Master wearing
an expression of total shock and amazement on his face.
"Master, what's wrong? What did I say? What is it?"
Qui-Gon said nothing, feeling himself beginning to tremble, and
he rose to his feet, walking slowly towards the other side of the
large practice room. Then, suddenly he stopped, turning around to
face his young Padawan.
Obi-Wan was startled by the distraught expression on his Master's
face..an expression he had never seen before on those usually
calm, serene features.
"Obi-Wan, I had a dream earlier.."
Obi-Wan swallowed hard, knowing in his heart what his Master was
going to say next.
"Yes, Master?"
Qui-Gon let out a long sigh. "I dreamt I was riding a horse,
a beautiful black horse, and where I was traveling to, I didnt'
know, but I had this overwhelming desire to keep going, to push
onwards, urging my horse faster. Then I saw a young man in the
distance, a man whom I recognized the minute I stopped before him
and gazed upon his beautiful face."
He stopped for a moment, the expression on his face changing to a
look of pure love and devotion.
"It was you, Obi-Wan. The young man standing there before
me....was you."
Obi-Wan felt dizzy; his heart began to race madly, as the
realization crept into his mind, overtaking all rational thought.
Yes, his instincts had served him well...he was right. Qui-Gon
was the Duke. They had been lovers before, even as they were
now...he knew it to be true, just as he knew he was Duncan. He
had spoken that name in the heat of passion as he lay there with
the Duke. The Duke. His lover. Now, his Qui-Gon.
He gazed back at Qui-Gon, starting to tremble, feeling
overwhelmed, and he rushed towards his beloved Master, wanting to
him to hold him in his arms and never let go.
Qui-Gon opened his arms to his beloved Padawan, inviting him,
wrapping his arms around him. He held him against his heart, his
lips pressed against the top of the young man's head, as he
whispered gentle words to his eternal lover.
"My Obi-Wan, my love....my Precious One.."
Obi-Wan buried his face in his lover's chest, gently sobbing.
"My Master, my beloved...forever..."
Then, a soft whisper...
"My Duncan.."
"My Colin.."
That night, they made love so passionately, so tenderly; as if
rediscovering one another, hands exploring, mouths tasting,
devouring each other with a frenzied yearning and desire.
It was as if they were new lovers coming together for the very
first time.
The bright orange rays of the early morning Coruscant sun beamed
in through the windows of their shared quarters, bathing Obi-Wan
in a soothing warmth, rousing him slightly from his deep slumber.
A contented smile spread across his face, and he snuggled closer
to his beloved, burying his face against Qui-Gon's neck, savoring
the touch of the warm skin; the gentle pulse of his lover's life
force beating steadily against his cheek.
He felt Qui-Gon begin to stir, and lifted his head to face him,
wanting to look into those deep indigo eyes that he loved so much
as they opened, wanting his own face to be the first thing his
lover would see upon awakening.
The Jedi Master shifted, still sleeping, and pulled Obi-Wan
closer against him; wrapping his arms about him even tighter.
Then he whispered, ever so softly in his sleep.
"My Precious One."
Hearing this from his lover's lips filled Obi-Wan with joy, and
he lightly kissed his lover's lips as he murmured once again.
"My Duncan....my beloved."
Smiling, Obi-Wan whispered back, his lips still pressed against
his lover's.
"My Colin."
In the days that followed, the two found themselves immersed in
their duties, as they were sent on a mission to Naboo to assist
in negotiations with the Trade Federation.
The events of that mission proved very successful; in a short
period of time, they had come to the aid of the Queen of Naboo,
saving her and her people from the invasion of the Trade
Federation, and had discovered the identity of the one that
Qui-Gon had believed to be "The Chosen One."
But now, the two found themselves locked in fierce combat with a
Sith Lord.
The hissing sound of lightsaber blades clashing together echoed
through the vast power station chamber as the two Jedi waged
battle against the Sith Lord.
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, their skill honed by years of training,
fought the Sith with a speed and refinement only displayed by the
finest of Jedi Knights, proving to be truly worthy adversaries to
the Sith, who had obviously been well-trained in the skill of
lightsaber battle.
On and on they fought, side by side; thrust, parry, thrust,
parry; their elegant movements a dance of perfection; displaying
a perfect image of master and apprentice.
As they drove the Sith Lord back, further into the chamber,
Obi-Wan could sense his Master's strength beginning to falter. He
was becoming exhausted, yet the Jedi Master continued to battle
the Sith Lord with every ounce of vigor that he could muster,
drawing on the living Force to enhance his combat with the Dark
Lord.
As Qui-Gon fought the Sith's onslaught from the right, the Dark
Lord was being bombarded from the left by Obi-Wan, who was
coercing him back across the long catwalk into the service
corridor of the power station's melting pit.
His attention briefly diverted to his Master's growing weariness,
Obi-Wan was struck by the Sith's broad kick, pushing him
backwards, plummeting over the edge of the catwalk, sending him
down to the lower level. Landing with a grace and finesse that
only a well-trained Jedi Knight could possess, Obi-Wan quickly
vaulted upwards, using a bit of the Force, somersaulting up and
over to the catwalk above, hurrying to rejoin his Master in the
battle that waged on and on.
The Jedi Master began to force the Sith Lord back over the
corridor towards the melting pit beyond. As the Dark Lord
retreated backwards, the laser rotation began its cycle, creating
a wall of energy between the Sith and the Jedi. The Dark Lord
waited, sneering, pacing back and forth as if he were a caged
animal, anticipating his opportunity for attack.
Obi-Wan watched anxiously as his Master fell to his knees in
meditation in an attempt to regain his strength, drawing on the
living Force. His eyes closed; his face held an expression of
pure serenity.
As the cycle drew to an end, Qui-Gon returned to his feet,
lightsaber poised, with a renewed strength and vigor, a look of
determination on his face.
The laser retreated and the Jedi Master forged onwards, attacking
the Dark Lord with a vengeance, his movements enhanced by the
Force as he held his own with his opponent.
Obi-Wan raced towards them, rushing to assist his Master, and was
impeded by another laser, its cycle beginning, forestalling his
efforts to rejoin his Master in battle. He could only watch
helplessly as the laser rotation continued its extensive cycle.
Standing back in the shadows, the Sith Master watched patiently
as his apprentice waged battle with the Jedi Master. He had been
informed of the Jedi's arrival in the hangar and had ordered his
apprentice to destroy them; both of them. He had waited for this
moment for quite some time; and at last he would have his
revenge.
Obi-Wan bounced uneasily on his feet as he waited for the long
cycle to end, knowing he should meditate to renew his strength,
but he found he simply could not.
Suddenly, he felt an agonizing pain rip through him as he saw the
Dark Lord thrust his red blade through Qui-Gon, hearing the
anguished cry that ripped from his own throat, filling the vast
chamber with his agonizing scream. His eyes wide with disbelief,
he saw his beloved Master falter, his body crumpling to the cold
steel floor beneath him as the Sith glowered in triumph.
His eyes filled with rage and disbelief, and he could feel the
hate growing inside of him, spreading through his body like a
disease, as he glared at the face of his sworn enemy, the anger
overtaking all reason and control.
Finally, the long cycle ended and time seemed to continue once
more.
The Sith glared at him in pure hatred as he stood, the twin
blades of his lightsaber humming, waiting to destroy the Jedi who
was quickly advancing on him.
Roaring his cry of anger, Obi-Wan waged his fury upon the Sith
Lord with every ounce of his being, his eyes stinging with the
onset of tears; tears of rage, tears of anguish. As he battled
the Sith with all his might, his thoughts were torn with the
image of his beloved Master, lying on the cold steel floor just a
few feet away, suffering from the wrath of the Sith's blade.
Onward he pushed, driving the Sith Lord closer and closer to the
edge of the melting pit, his body a whirlwind of graceful leaps,
somersaults and twists, his moves displaying the honed skill of
the finest of Jedi Knights.
With a final swift stroke of his lightsaber, Obi-Wan struck the
Sith Lord, slicing his body cleanly in half, a look of triumph in
his crystalline eyes as he stared back at the Sith, whose face
was masked with a look of surprise and shock. Obi-Wan watched
with deep satisfaction as the Sith's severed body fell backwards,
plummeting into the depths of the melting pit below.
His breath coming in gasps in his state of complete exhaustion,
he rushed to his lover's side, and cradled him in his arms, his
hands supporting his lover's head as he looked deep into his
eyes.
"My love, lie still....please, let me heal you."
Obi-Wan drew upon all his healing abilities, concentrating them
on the man in his arms, feeling the living Force surrounding him,
enveloping him in a warmth and strength he never knew possible.
He closed his eyes, placing his hand over his lover's gaping
wound, the warmth easing the Jedi Master's searing pain.
For many minutes, it seemed, Obi-Wan projected every ounce of
healing strength in his being, his body becoming weaker with
every passing second. He could not give up, no, nor would he give
up, even if it meant his own demise.
He felt the heat rush through his fingers, spreading over his
lover's chest, and opened his eyes to see the wound diminishing,
the seared flesh reknitting, as the fatal blow from the Sith's
lightsaber began to disappear into nothingness; a diagonal tear
in his Master's tunic the only visible sign of the injury.
He looked into his lover's eyes, smiling down at him as their
eyes locked in a mutual expression of pure love.
The Sith Master had stood aside, watching patiently, never once
leaving his hiding place even as his apprentice met his doom;
waiting, just waiting, for the perfect moment to make his
presence known.
Now, he decided the time was right, and stepped forward out from
the shadows to correct the ancient wrongdoing; the injustice that
had befallen him...that should have never been allowed to happen
all those many years ago.
Obi-Wan suddenly became aware of another presence.
The very air around him seemed filled with the essence of pure
evil.
He could feel the presence of a truly sinister being, one filled
with so much hate, so much malice, that it sent a chill running
down his spine, filling his heart with dread.
Yet the presence seemed very familiar.
The Sith Master walked slowly towards the two Jedi, his fists
clenching and unclenching in anticipation of the kill. This time,
he thought, he would not die at the hands of his sworn enemy;
this time, it would be he who would bring this man to his demise.
He was pleased to have been present to instruct his overzealous
apprentice not to inflict a fatal blow upon the Jedi Master. And
the foolish young whelp who clung to his sworn enemy was under
the misguided impression that it was his love for his Master and
his healing powers that had saved the older Jedi's pathetic life.
Still holding his lover in his arms, Obi-Wan slowly turned his
head to face the one who had suddenly gripped his heart with
fear.
The grey-haired man who stood before him glared down maliciously
at the young boy who sat cradling his lover, holding him tightly
as if he would be ripped from his arms at any given moment. Ah,
he thought, so the young lover had been reborn also..how
unexpected..how..delightful!
A wicked smile spread across his lips as he realized that he
would have the chance to slay not only his enemy, but his enemy's
young paramour...how simply delicious that would be, he thought.
Qui-Gon's eyes flew open as he, too, sensed the presence of pure
evil. He leaned forward to see the face of the intruder whose
presence he found unmistakably familiar.
His gaze fell upon the sinister man standing before him, and he
felt his heart grow cold.
Struggling to his feet, he straightened, and his hand quickly
fell upon the hilt of his lightsaber. He rapidly ignited it with
a speed hardly noticeable by the naked eye, as his piercing blue
eyes locked on the hard cold eyes of his opponent, a fierce look
of strength and determination on his face.
The Sith Master began to laugh mockingly, his eyes filled with an
eerie blue light, as he reached within his black robes and
withdrew his own lightsaber, the blade materializing in a
blood-red flash.
Then, he spoke.
"At last, Colin Bainbridge of Shannara, we meet again."
The name sent the jolt of remembrance coursing through Qui-Gon's
mind.
Suddenly, he felt as if he were split in two; his soul becoming
two entities, both twined together by the hand of fate. His body
was overcome by a surge of anger, and he began to tremble,
feeling as if he would simply collapse to the floor.
Obi-Wan watched, his eyes wide with confusion and utter disbelief
as he watched his Master crumple to the floor below him, his
lightsaber leaving his grip and clanging to the cold steel floor
beside him; and surrounding the air where his Master had stood,
there was an eerie blue outline of a man, much like his own
beloved Master, a translucent image of a man; an image he quickly
recognized.
The Duke. The Duke of Shannara was standing over his Master's
prone body, his features beginning to materialize before his very
eyes.
The Duke stood poised as if ready for battle; his broadsword
raised in defense, a look of rage etched upon his chiseled
features.
The Sith Master began to tremble; his face grew pale as he, too,
fell to the floor, his own lightsaber skittering across the
floor, echoing throughout the vast room. From the limp figure of
the grey-haired man rose a similar blue outline of a man, much
like the man who lay beneath him, whom Obi-Wan also recognized
from the man in his dreams...the man who had taken his beloved
Duke from him, the one who had been reborn into this Master of
the Sith, his soul seeking revenge on the one who had defeated
him and taken his life.
Angus McSwain stood in a mirrored stance of the Duke's, his own
broadsword raised in anticipation of battle.
Obi-Wan retreated back a few steps, his breath coming harder, his
heart pounding madly against his chest as he prepared to see the
nightmare that had plagued him for many nights materialize right
before his very eyes.
The two ghostly figures battled as they had in his dreams; each
one moving in a grace of a time when swordplay was a common
occurence; their combat a dance of thrusts, parries, and leaps,
each man's swordstrokes in perfect sync with the other,
displaying a perfectly mirrored image of the battle that they had
waged many years before.
Obi-Wan felt himself grow dizzy, his sight slowly fading. He
shook his head violently, in an attempt to fight the oncoming
blackness, but to no avail. He suddenly felt his strength give,
and he, too fell to the floor.
He slowly regained consciousness and peered out through heavy
lids at the sight that lay before him.
He saw the two warriors, their battle continuing, the ghostly
sound of swords clashing, the angry battle cries of the two men,
as they waged their combat in a fight to the death.
Then he noticed another ghostly figure, standing a few feet away
from him, the eyes filled with fear, the body trembling from
sheer terror.
Duncan. It was Duncan. The man whom he, Obi-Wan, had been, was
standing to the side of the two men, his face and stance an exact
duplicate of the frightened young man in his terrifying
nightmare.
Obi-Wan watched as the battle waged on; he gazed sympathetically
at the figure of Duncan as the young man stood by helplessly,
watching in fear for his lover's life as the skirmish continued;
for Obi-Wan knew too well the impending outcome of the events of
that fateful day.
Suddenly, the horrible events of that ancient battle seemed to
change as Obi-Wan saw the Duke getting the upper hand , knocking
the sword from his enemy's grip, sending it flying across the
room, the sword disappearing into nothingness.
Looking up in utter shock and disbelief, McSwain's eyes grew wide
as he saw the Duke thrust his sword towards him, driving his
blade deep into his enemy's heart.
With an agonizing scream, the ghostly figure of McSwain began to
fade, and soon he vanished into the cold air of the vast room,
his cries fading away, leaving the room in total silence.
Obi-Wan stared in fascination and awe as he saw the figures of
the Duke and his lover, Duncan, rush towards each other, coming
together in a passionate embrace.
He watched in amazement as the two ghostly figures, still locked
together lovingly, slowly vanished from sight.
The vast emptiness of the room became silent; the two bodies of
the Sith Master and Qui-Gon lying completely still on the floor.
Obi-Wan rose to his feet, his body still weak from the expended
energy he had used to heal his beloved Master, and rushed to
Qui-Gon's side, taking the Jedi Master in his arms, cradling him,
rocking him back and forth.
"Please, Master....don't leave me...please."
Obi-Wan felt the sting of tears as he closed them tightly,
pressing his cheek against his Master's head, murmuring whispered
pleas.
"Please, Master.....please, come back to me...I need you, my
love."
He felt his Master's body shift, and heard a faint groan escape
his lips. Qui-Gon's eyes opened slowly, and Obi-Wan felt a rush
of love and relief wash over him as he saw the deep blue light of
those eyes he loved so much, finally gazing back at him. He
leaned down and kissed his beloved Master gently on those soft,
sensuous lips.
Qui-Gon smiled tenderly up at him, caressing his cheek gently.
"My Precious One."
Obi-Wan helped his Master to his feet, and the two stood locked
together in a warm embrace, as they surveyed the vast emptiness
of the power station chamber.
The room was silent once again.
To their surprise and utter amazement, the Sith was still lying
on the floor, the ghost-like figure of McSwain having long since
disappeared. Yet the Sith did not move.
Blood was steadily seeping from the wound in his chest onto the
cold steel floor below. As they took a closer look, they
discovered the wound in the man's chest to be the exact same
wound inflicted upon the ghostly figure of the warrior, McSwain;
the wound being one to his heart. The size of the wound was
clearly one which could be created by a broadsword blade, the
fabric of his black robes sliced open in a vertical gash.
The sworn enemy of Colin Bainbridge, Duke of Shannara, was
finally slain.
And with him, in his rebirth, the evil Sith, Palpatine.
In the still of the Coruscant evening, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon lay
together, sleeping peacefully once again, lost in the comfort of
each other's arms.
As they lay contentedly in a deep, restful slumber, the room
began to fill with an eerie blue light; its glow brightening; and
the translucent outlines of two ghostly figures appeared, side by
side.
Embracing each other lovingly, the Duke of Shannara and his
Duncan gazed down upon the sleeping figures lying entwined in the
bed before them.
They gazed at each other with smiles of utter happiness and pure
love; their lips meeting in a tender kiss.
Then, just as suddenly as they had appeared, the two ghostly
figures faded away, leaving the love and warmth they had within
them behind to fill the now darkened room with an air of eternal
love.
~End~
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