Riding the Wheel of If
Episode Four
The sharp bang of displaced
air rang through the dim garden, scaring some birds into flight, but there was
no one and nobody else around to hear it. After a moment, a Jedi Knight strode
out from a dark corner into the early evening air, pausing by the chuckling
fountain to look around. Above him, the crowded Coruscant skies gleamed with all manner of air ships,
and all around the lights from the high-rises surrounding the
Nodding to himself in
satisfaction, he walked into the
As he waited for the lift to
arrive, Obi-Wan Kenonbi couldn't help but remember
the last time he was in the
The third level was quiet, but
from behind some of the doors he could hear muted voices or music, and
occasionally smell cooking odors. Nervously, he approached one door, very much
like all the others, and rang the chime.
Shortly the door opened to
reveal a tall, dignified Jedi Master. Qui-Gon Jinn
frowned down at the young man in his doorway and said, "Obi-Wan? What are
you doing back? You're supposed to be on the transport to the seminar at A'Kar'shi."
// Shit, // Obi-Wan thought to
himself briefly, // I'm alive here too. Forgot to check for
that. // He opened his mouth to speak but nearly couldn't. This Qui-Gon had no beard! He looked so much... younger, Obi-Wan
thought. Different. Finally, he found his voice. "I-Qui-Gon. Master. I'm sorry, I'm not really
Obi-Wan. It's a long story. May I come in?"
Puzzlement and a touch of
anger colored Master Jinn's voice as he answered, "You live here, Obi-Wan.
What in the Force is wrong with you? Where's your braid?"
Unconsciously raising his hand
to where his braid had been over a month before, Obi-Wan quirked a smile. "That's
part of it. I'm not the Obi-Wan who lives with you... I'm
from, oh hell, this is ridiculous. May I come in and explain?"
"I think you'd
better." That chilly tone of voice was used only for extremes of disgust
or disappointment, and Obi-Wan gulped despite himself. Qui-Gon
retreated to stand near the sofa, his arms crossed, his legs planted. "I
saw you board that transport myself, Obi-Wan, four hours ago. Now here you are,
no braid... wait. Your hair is different. You look
different." Deep blue eyes raked him up and down, frowning.
"I AM different,
Master," Obi-Wan said ruefully. "I'm from... well,
I'm from a different reality. Different dimension.
Whatever you want to call it; the
"A different
reality." Qui-Gon's expression
became, if anything, more thunderous, and Obi-Wan could feel the man's probe
along his shields. Not wanting to hide, he opened himself enough so that Qui-Gon could at least feel his truth level.
"Y-yes. I've been to what,
four - no, five - of them already? The Sith
have taken over in at least two of them, maybe starting to in a third. Senator Palpatine is..."
Abruptly, Qui-Gon walked directly to him, invading his personal space,
and with one large hand grabbed his genitals and squeezed, hard. Obi-Wan yelped
in shock.
Not releasing his firm hold,
Qui-Gon narrowed his eyes as he looked down on the
young Knight. "You must be telling something of the truth," he
growled. "You can't be MY Obi-Wan anyway. You still have your testicles. Tell
me more, whoever you are."
Eyes widening in shock, all
Obi-Wan was capable of thinking was // Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit // as his
fried brain tried to parse the meaning of Qui-Gon's
words. Qui-Gon, who was still standing VERY close to
him and who still had a firm grasp around his penis and balls. A firm, rather possessive, grasp. "It's true," he
managed to squeak out finally. "I'm from an alternate reality. I'm
looking... I'm looking to figure out how I got here and how I can get
home," he lied quickly, easing his shields up more firmly. He was becoming
quite afraid of this particular reality, not to mention this particular Qui-Gon.
"So you say you are
Obi-Wan Kenobi, but from a different... a different reality?" Qui-Gon finally said, easing off but not releasing the smaller
man's genitals. "From a
"Yes," Obi-Wan
swallowed. "Master Yoda told me..."
"Master who?"
// Oh
shit oh shit oh shit // the litany began again as Obi-Wan realized just how
deep he was getting. "Um, he's one of the Masters at my
Reluctantly, the big man let
him go and stepped away. Obi-Wan quickly sidled over to the table, where he
made a show of removing his satchel, while turning himself away from Qui-Gon and quickly unclipping his 'saber. "I'm sorry, he
said, as he thumbed the power, "this one is too much for me." With a
bang, he disappeared.
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The clap of displaced air was
still echoing in the apartment when Obi-Wan appeared, falling to one knee in
nausea and reaction. He managed to turn off his 'saber just in time to avoid
slicing into the carpeting. // Shit! I'm still in the apartment! // he thought
to himself. A crash made him look up, still swallowing back bile, and his jaw
dropped.
"Anakin?" he
breathed. The young boy stood at the door of the kitchenette, the remains of a
clean, wet casserole dish at his feet where he had dropped it in shock.
"Padawan?!" A woman's voice rang out from
the other room. As Obi-Wan struggled to his feet, a tall, attractive, older
woman, with long, graying, light brown hair entered the room from the bedroom. She
was dressed as a Master and had a lightsaber in her
hand. When she saw Obi-Wan she stopped and staggered back against the door
frame. Anakin ran to her and she wrapped one arm around him, obviously as much
for support as to comfort him. "Obi-Wan?" she breathed.
"He - he just appeared,
Master," Anakin babbled, clinging to her.
Obi-Wan reached to the table
for support, still woozy from shock and the transfer. This woman looked so
familiar...
In a deep, mellifluous voice,
she said to Anakin, "Run, Anakin. Get Master
Yoda. Hurry." Watching the Knight suspiciously,
Anakin eased his way around the outer wall of the room and darted out.
"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan
said, "I didn't mean to frighten Anakin. Your Padawan. I don't usually initiate the transfer
inside..."
"Who are you?" the
woman asked, her voice level, but with an underlying
shakiness.
"I-I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi. I'm
a Knight of the Jedi..."
"Obi-Wan Kenobi died over
a month ago, on Naboo," she said harshly. "I
was there. He died in my arms. Now why don't you tell me the truth?"
Closing his eyes, Obi-Wan
scrubbed his face with one hand. "I AM telling the truth. I'm sorry. It's
been a long day for me. Do you mind if I sit? If Master Yoda is coming, he'll
be able to confirm what I'm saying. He did a few realities ago anyway."
Without waiting for her permission, he sank into one of the chairs at the
table. "I'm moving between realities. I've come, oh, I don't know, unstuck
somehow. At least that's how I feel. Gods. The last
one..." He dropped his satchel on the floor at his feet and leaned back in
the chair. "I'm so sorry to have frightened you."
The woman had not moved and
was still staring at him, her gaze still shocked, and curiously hungry. "You...
don't feel insane. Are you a clone?"
"No!" he said
vehemently. "I'm sorry. I ran into a clone of me a couple of realities
back and it shook me up. It was a Sith,
you see" He shook his head ruefully. "Didn't bother me as much as
meeting myself did though. I don't suppose I'm making
much sense. But I'm not insane. Just tell me, is Qui-Gon
still alive here? Or... oh Force, is there even a Qui-Gon
here?"
She looked confused. "Who?"
Before he could answer, the
door whooshed open to admit Anakin, carrying Yoda on his back. The wizened
Master had the boy kneel, then came over to Obi-Wan, who
fell out of the chair to his knees to greet him. "Master Yoda," he
said, relieved. "I was beginning to think I'd never see you again."
Yoda seemed just as surprised
to see him as the female Master had. "What have we here then, hmmm?"
he asked, as much to himself as to the others in the room. "Obi-Wan Kenobi
it seems to be, yes."
"I am Obi-Wan, Master
Yoda. I was building myself a new lightsaber. When I
tested it, it somehow transferred me to another reality, another
dimension," Obi-Wan said. "I talked to you..
I mean, one of yous... on the second, no third,
reality, and you said it was a world of 'if', that 'if' ruled all. If a tree
died, the world would be different than if the tree had lived." Obi-Wan
realized he was on the verge of babbling, but he was so rattled by this time he
couldn't stop himself. "Every time I ignite my 'saber, I move. I shift. You,
I mean, that other you, advised me never to move except while outside, and I
usually do, but the last time..." he shuddered. "I had no choice. I'm
sorry to have frightened you," he said again to the strangely familiar
Master.
She was still standing in the
same place, and Anakin had come to stand before her, his little face twisted in
puzzlement. "You can't be Obi-Wan," Anakin finally said, in a reasonable
tone of voice. "Obi-Wan died. Master Mar-Gon and
I were at the immolation." He looked up to the Master and took her hand,
squeezing it in sympathy.
"Nevertheless," Yoda
said, putting one hand thoughtfully on Obi-Wan's
head, "Obi-Wan he is. How this is possible, I know not. Familiar you are
with events on Naboo?" Obi-Wan nodded mutely.
"Then tell us, you will, what happened to you."
Closing his eyes for a moment,
Obi-Wan tried to find his center and calm down. // Why does it always have to
begin with the damn story? // he thought in futility. "Master and I were
sent to mediate a dispute with the Trade Federation. When we got there, the
Federation attacked Naboo. We managed to get the
Queen off the planet, but our ship was damaged and we had to make an emergency
landing on Tatooine. That's where we found
Anakin." Obi-Wan smiled briefly at the boy, who smiled uncertainly back.
"Qui-Gon
felt he was the 'chosen one'," and here Obi-Wan struggled to contain the
anger he always felt at that, "and presented him to the Council for
training. I told him, probably too often, that Anakin was too old, but he did
anyway. When they rejected him, he pushed me aside and took Anakin as his Padawan Learner. We went back to Naboo,
where a Sith creature
attacked us in the Nubian power plant. We fought it, I got separated from Qui-Gon, and the next thing I knew it had cored him. I managed
to get out from the rotating fields and barely managed to kill the thing, with
Master's 'saber as mine got dropped in the melting pit."
Here, he pulled out Qui-Gon's 'saber and handed it to Yoda. "Qui-Gon died in my arms, making me promise to train Anakin. About
a month later, I built my own 'saber, tested it, and I've been moving ever
since. I've seen things..." He looked up then and saw the strange Master's
face white with shock.
"Yoda..." she said,
her voice strangled.
The small green Master was
examining the 'saber in his claws. "Your 'saber this is, Mar-Gon," he said. "Bigger it is, but essentially
same."
Obi-Wan shook his head. "No,
that's Master Jinn's 'saber, Master."
"I am Master Jinn,"
the woman said.
Dumbfounded, Obi-Wan's head snapped around and he gasped. "What?"
he asked, his voice several octaves higher than normal.
"I am Mar-Gon Jinn," she said, shakily taking a seat at the
table, Anakin still at her side. "And everything you've just said..."
she shook her head. "What did the Sith thing look like?" she
suddenly demanded.
"It was ugly,"
Obi-Wan responded, whispering. Without noticing, he had dropped from his knees
to his butt and his head was whirling. "Bald, with tiny
horns on its head. It looked kind of Zabrakian.
It had red and black patterns all over its face, like tattoos, it's eyes were orange and it had disgusting teeth. It fought
with a double-bladed red lightsaber."
Yoda and Master Jinn stared at
each other for a long moment, then Yoda nodded, and she buried her head in her
hands. "This isn't possible," she murmured in a choked voice. Anakin
patted her back awkwardly, trying to comfort.
"My Padawan,"
Yoda said gently, "to the bottom of this we will get, yes. Center, you
must."
"You're Qui-Gon?" Obi-Wan said, his brain still trying to
encompass it. "This isn't - I don't - oh, Force," he moaned, closing
his eyes and burying his head in his hands, "I can't do this. I can't.
This after the last one...!"
Impatiently, Yoda tugged on
his hand. "From Padawan of my Padawan, expect such behavior I do not," he said
sternly. "Come with me you will. In my quarters will you sleep tonight. Talk again tomorrow we will." He looked over
at Anakin as he tugged on Obi-Wan. "Young Padawan,
look after your Master you will."
"Yes, Master Yoda,"
Anakin said, his chest puffing with pride. "I'll take good care of
her."
Smiling, Yoda tugged Obi-Wan
again, urging him to his feet. "Know that I do. Speak in the morning we
will, Mar-Gon." Looking up at the now standing
Obi-Wan, Yoda said, "Cloak do you have? Not good to be seen yet, I
think."
"Y-yes, but it's black. I
lost my other one and forgot to bring one from the last..."
Looking at his Master for
confirmation, Anakin said, "I'll go get one from your closet, Master. Master
Yoda's probably right, it would be too confusing."
Nodding absently, Mar-Gon never took devastated eyes from Obi-Wan's
face.
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Thankfully, Yoda lived on the
same level, but a few corridors away. He walked slowly, with a cloaked and
hooded Obi-Wan at his side. Obi-Wan's brain was
simply too numb to try to reason why Mar-Gon Jinn
would have one of his cloaks in her closet. Reaching the diminutive Master's
apartment, Yoda waved him inside, set the privacy lock, and indicated he should
take one of the full sized chairs. He did, gratefully sinking into the depths
and putting a hand over his eyes.
A few minutes later, Yoda
presented him with a cup of tea, then took a seat on
the small bench he used as a sofa. He examined Obi-Wan with shrewd eyes while
the Knight sipped his tea - prepared exactly the way he liked it - and spoke
when he deemed the panic level had dropped sufficiently for coherence.
"Padawan
room have I," he said, indicating one door off
the main room, "sleep there you will tonight. Mar-Gon
was last resident, big enough for you, the bed is."
"Thank you, Master,"
Obi-Wan murmured.
"Hummmph." Yoda merely replied. Then after
another moment's silence, he added, "Eaten, have you?"
"Not...
not for a while, no," Obi-Wan said, "but I'm not really
hungry."
Another inarticulate noise and
Yoda hopped off the bench and disappeared into his kitchenette, returning with
a large sandwich of cold meats and cheeses, as well as a chilled bottle. "Left
over this was from your last visit," he said, giving the bottle and the
sandwich to Obi-Wan. "Your favorite it is. Drink it, no one else
will."
The bottle was unfamiliar, the
drink smelled pungent and earthy. Obi-Wan sipped, then
guzzled. "Oh, it's good. What is it?"
"Root beer," Yoda
said, satisfaction radiating out of him. "Not have it, do you, where you
come from then."
"No. It's glorious. Do
you have any more?"
Cackling, Yoda said, "Six
pack have I. But price there is, for each bottle. Tell
me, you will, all that has happened to you."
Wolfing down the sandwich he
hadn't realized how much he needed, Obi-Wan nodded. "Gladly, Master. After
the last place I visited..." he shuddered. "And... and I found Qui-Gon. But he was alone, all alone, and he, he died again. Oh,
Master Yoda," he whispered, very near tears. Some small, still rational
part of his brain noted with dispassion how his emotions appeared to be
careering all over the place and wondered why.
Yoda must have been reading
him; the great golden eyes were narrowed in concentration and the ears were
perked up with interest. "To healers, you should go, tomorrow. Psychic
damage there may be. But for now, tell me all, then sleep you will."
They stayed up long that
night. Obi-Wan talked, polishing off four of the six bottles of root beer,
telling Yoda of all the places he had seen and been. When he spoke of Palpatine being a Sith
lord, Yoda's eyes grew even larger (if that was possible), and he nearly shook
with rage before visibly calming himself.
"Long time have I
mistrusted and disliked that son-of-a-mynock,"
he grated out, and Obi-Wan blinked to see Yoda actually furious. "Report
this, I will, to Council. But later."
Oddly enough, Yoda seemed most
interested in the last version of the
"It wasn't funny,
Master," Obi-Wan said in a somewhat aggrieved tone of voice.
"When 900 years old you
are, Padawan," Yoda managed to wheeze out,
"find humor in such a situation you will too."
Finishing the last bottle as
well as his tale, Obi-Wan finally fell silent. Then he added, as an
afterthought, "I can't seem to grasp the idea of Qui-Gon
as a female. Perhaps I should just go."
Shaking his head, Yoda said,
"No. Realize you must, 50-50 chance there is in gender in all worlds. Mar-Gon my last Padawan she was.
Great in the Force she is, stubborn too. Always questioning, she is, thorn in
the Council's side she is." Obi-Wan was surprised to hear the same
half-exasperated, half-proud tone in Yoda's voice he often used when describing
Qui-Gon; then he wondered at his surprise.
"She really IS Qui-Gon," he murmured, half sadly.
Nodding Yoda said,
"Events you described on Naboo, same they were
here. But realize you must, put you... put Obi-Wan aside Mar-Gon did not. Realize now I do that Anakin must be trained.
Realize this you do too, in your heart."
A bit ashamed, Obi-Wan nodded.
"I-I think I do. I do. I never really disliked Anakin, just..."
"Envied him you
did," Yoda finished for him, softly, understandingly. "As
did Obi-Wan here. Fought they did, on way to Naboo."
"We did too,"
Obi-Wan whispered, his eyes misty.
"Sacrificed himself he
did, to save his lover, on Naboo."
That brought him up short. "They-they
were lovers?" he stuttered.
"Yes," Yoda said,
eyeing him shrewdly. "Vows they were to take, on his knighting day. Not so on your world, yes?"
Obi-Wan closed his eyes and
rested his head on the back of the chair. "No. No, we weren't. Everywhere
ELSE but where I was, apparently," he added bitterly. "Why, Master
Yoda? Why didn't he see how much I loved him?"
"So sure you are that he
did not?" Yoda asked gently. "Wait for you,
he could have, in power plant. Yet he did not. Why?"
"Oh, I don't know, pride?
He didn't feel he needed my help? He didn't want me to get... to protect... oh,
Force." Sudden understanding cascaded in on Obi-Wan. "WHY didn't he
TELL me?!" he suddenly howled, burying his head in his hands.
Yoda climbed off his bench and
came over to stroke Obi-Wan's hair gently. "Perhaps
for same reason told him you did not," he said quietly. "Ready then,
you were not. Ready now, you are. I sense much growth
in you over last few days. Emotional, spiritual.
Adjusted to it you have not. For a few days, rest here you will. Adjust. Help
you I will."
It was a
calmer Obi-Wan who finally dragged his hands from his face. He looked
into the understanding, wise eyes before him and sighed. "I will. Thank
you, Master Yoda."
His ears perking up, Yoda
said, "My job it is. Help I provide with root beer and consolation. The
obvious I point out. To bed with you now; 900 years old you may not be but
tired you are."
On the verge of laughing
hysterically, Obi-Wan got himself under control and nodded. He stood,
shouldering his pack, and made his shaky way into the Padawan's
bedroom.
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The next morning, a cloaked and hooded Obi-Wan went with Yoda to the healer's
section, where he was poked and prodded and scanned until they had nothing else
to do to him. Yoda left half way through the multi-hour ordeal, asking him to
come to the topiary garden when he was finished. Exhausted and hungry, for the
tests had taken him beyond the midday meal, Obi-Wan finally sought out the
little green Master.
The topiary garden had always
been a favorite of Qui-Gon's, a quiet place in which
to meditate and listen to the living Force. Not many went there, and nearly no
one young did, since it was designed as a place of quiet contemplation. Obi-Wan
felt the Force envelop him the moment he stepped out into the sunlight, and he
lowered the hood of his robe to allow the sun to shine on his face. The stress
of the last few days began to recede under the calming influence of the garden.
He did not sense Yoda's
presence. But in a sunny spot, near the yew that was painstakingly shaped as a
pouncing feline, Mar-Gon Jinn knelt in meditation. He
spotted her, hesitated briefly, then turned to go.
"Please stay," she
said, so softly he almost didn't hear her. After a moment, he turned back, shed
his robe and knelt near her, not in her direct line of sight. "My
meddlesome Master decided that we needed some time alone together," she
said, not opening her eyes. "Which is why he left me
here to wait for you."
Obi-Wan chuckled softly.
"It seems that Yoda is the same no matter what reality I'm in," he
said.
"I would find it hard to
believe he could change," she agreed seriously. "He is rather sot in
his ways."
They fell silent, each basking
in the sun and the serenity surrounding them, allowing tension and other
negative emotions to recede. Eventually, calmly, she began to speak, her voice
low.
"Obi-Wan and I became
lovers on his 21st birthday," she said. "I knew he was in love with
me, but really had thought it was just an infatuation on his part. He proved me
wrong. Every one of my objections he refuted with a logical argument. When I
finally gave in, I realized the depth of my love for him as well. Our bond went
very deep, to my surprise. I felt 20 again, instead of the decrepit old Master
I am."
The normal denial sprang to
Obi-Wan's lips; it was with an effort he swallowed it
back, preferring instead to listen. "Naboo was a
trial to both of us. I said things I did not mean to say, and I'm sure he did
as well. We argued about Anakin, about the Gungans,
everything. And I hurt him, very badly, in the Council Chamber."
Her face still serene, Obi-Wan
was beginning to sense the turbulence beneath her calm demeanor. "I never
had a chance to explain. I never... we argued all the way back to Naboo. It was not how I would have chosen to spend my last
days with my lover. But we seemed incapable of moving beyond the pain we felt.
"When - when he was
injured, he apologized. It should have been me apologizing to him. He told me I
was right, that Anakin was the chosen one, and he gladly stepped aside for him.
Then he died in my arms."
Shuddering, she hugged herself
tightly, opened her eyes and turned to Obi-Wan. "That is NOT what I wanted
to do," she said firmly. "Never, ever did I want to push you away,
push him away, for Anakin. I never got to say it to
him, so I say it to you. Forgive me. Forgive me for hurting you so."
Biting his lower lip, Obi-Wan
looked at her for a long moment. His hand came up without his realizing it to
trace the line of her nose. "Your nose was broken," he whispered.
She looked stricken.
"Yes. I was ten..."
"And you climbed the S'Patha fountain and fell in," he finished. "I
know. You told me."
Letting his hand drop back to
his lap, Obi-Wan said, "When Qui-Gon stepped
behind Anakin and said he would take the boy as his Padawan
Learner, my life just shattered. He didn't know how much I loved him, at least, I don't think he did. I remember the look he
gave me, over his shoulder, an expression I simply can't describe.
"We did talk, once we got
back Naboo, I apologized and he accepted my apology. I
always thought he wanted to say more, but he never did. And then events just
occurred too rapidly for any other words."
His eyes closed in memory. "I
was trapped outside the cycling fields. Qui-Gon and
that Sith thing were almost
all the way inside. Qui-Gon knelt in meditation,
showing off, something, I don't know. But when the fields cycled, they began
fighting again, and he wouldn't wait for me. I was trapped between the
force-fields and had to stand there and watch as that thing stabbed him."
He felt a soft touch on his
cheek, opened his eyes to see Mar-Gon staring
entranced at the tear she had wiped from his face. "That's exactly what
happened," she murmured, "but it was you. You wouldn't wait for me.
Why?"
A world of pain dwelled in
each pair of eyes. "Perhaps we were all just trying to protect the ones we
loved," Obi-Wan whispered harshly. "At least you knew he loved you. I
didn't have that luxury."
She looked deep into his eyes.
Her own eyes were the glorious indigo of Qui-Gon's;
the lashes were perhaps a tad longer, the face just a bit rounder, the voice an
octave higher. But she was definitely Qui-Gon, there was no longer any doubt in his mind. When she spoke,
her voice carried that faint burr that Qui-Gon's
often did when he was overcome with emotion. "He loved you," she
said, firm conviction in her words. "I cannot imagine being me and not
loving you. He - he just didn't know how to tell you."
There was nothing he could say
to that, no way he could reply to the hurt and pain in that strange and
familiar face. With exquisite timing, his stomach rumbled, and she swallowed,
quirking a smile.
"You've been with the
healers for most of the day - not something either of us like
- and missed noonmeal. Come back to the apartment.
I'll get you a sandwich or something."
Nodding, not trusting his
voice, he rose and followed her back into the building, raising his hood
against inquisitive eyes, as she did. As he followed her, he realized how much
even her aura felt like Qui-Gon's; she was shorter,
but not by much, and still had an inch or so over him.
Once in the safety of the
apartment, they removed their robes and she moved into the kitchenette. "Anakin
is at class this afternoon. I've got some of that sweetbread you like and golath fruit."
"That would be
lovely," he said, his voice sounding strange to his ears. "Do you...
Master Yoda had a drink last night..."
She laughed, and it was Qui-Gon's laugh. "You and your root
beer. You're lucky, Anakin seems to be
developing a taste for it. You know I hate the stuff." Suddenly she froze
in the middle of removing a dark bottle from the coldbox.
"I mean... Sith. Never mind."
They sat at the table, she
took some sweetbread for herself to be polite, and
Obi-Wan filled his rebellious stomach. She did her best not to stare, but it
was obvious she was having a hard time of it, and he felt increasingly
uncomfortable.
"Yoda tells me," she
said, struggling to break the desperate silence between them, "that you
have had some very... strange... adventures. And what is this about Palpatine?"
Taking a swig from the bottle,
he snorted. "That was something I discovered at the second.. no, third... reality. Palpatine had set himself up as Emperor and had created an
army of Sith."
"No!"
"Uh-huh. Naboo never happened there, at least I don't think it
did," he continued, finishing the last of the fruit and leaning back in
his chair. "Almost the entire Council had been wiped out by a bomb,
planted by the Sith, and he
had whittled the Jedi down to just a few hundred or less."
As he told the tale, the
awkwardness between them began to ease. She fetched him another bottle of root
beer and got herself some tea. He then briefly described his first two trips,
and glossed over the fourth. "Xanatos?" she
said, musingly. "I-I have vague memories of the name. Rina
was my first Padawan, and Arthapa
Depriss my second. Thapa
was a handful too. Then of course I lucked out with you... I mean..."
Obi-Wan began talking quickly
to cover her error. "I think you were lucky then. Xanatos
was Qui-Gon's second Padawan,
he turned to the dark. Qui-Gon..
I mean, my Qui-Gon, was forced to kill him."
"I'll look him up in the
"That's what I said. I'm
still getting used to this, I think. The last reality..." he shivered and
she looked at him oddly.
"You'll have to be more
specific than that, Obi-Wan," she said, and he realized that was the first
time she had called him by his name.
Briefly he described what had
happened, while her jaw dropped farther and farther. "Pleasure boy?"
she finally choked out, unable to decide whether to laugh or gasp in
astonishment.
"That's what he
said," Obi-Wan said sourly, finishing the last bottle of root beer. "I
didn't stay around long enough to get more details."
"I should say not!"
she agreed, her eyes dancing. "But I've always said you would make a fine
pleasure worker if you weren't..." Suddenly seeming to realize what she
was saying, she pressed her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide in distress. "I'm
sorry," she choked out. "This isn't working. I can't... I know you're
not him... but..."
"I'm sorry too,
Master," he said quietly. On impulse, he rose and quickly walked around
the table to where she sat, then bent to one knee next to her chair and took
her hand. "I've been searching for my Master," he said, quietly,
"to tell him some things. The Qui-Gon I made
love to the other day was not my Qui-Gon, and even
had he not died, I don't think I would have been happy staying with him."
"Are you so sure,
Obi-Wan?" she asked, her other hand on his face, the callused thumb
tracing his lower lip.
"Yes, I'm sure, because I
never had the urge to tell him this... that I'm sorry. Sorry for arguing about
Anakin, sorry for not guarding your back better, sorry... sorry for not telling
you that I loved you..."
Her hand on his mouth made him
stop. "No need, Obi-Wan," she was saying, fighting back tears. "No
need. I know. He knows. And I'm sorry too. Sorry for so many, many
things."
She brushed his lengthening
hair back away from his face tenderly. "I miss your braid," she
murmured. "You used to laugh at me when I used it to tug you towards me,
kept saying 'that is not a handle, Master,' every time I did..."
He captured her hand in one of
his and gently kissed her fingers. "I'm sorry I'm not him, I'm so
sorry," he said, his voice low and rough.
Shaking her head roughly, in
negation or denial neither of them knew, she pulled him towards her with both
hands and kissed him roughly, invading his mouth with her tongue and pouring
her soul into his. After a stunned moment, he kissed her back, just as deeply.
They both broke away, panting
for air, at the same time. "You even taste like him," Obi-Wan
groaned, running his hands over and through her hair.
"So... so do you,"
she gasped, sliding to the floor next to him. "Need... need you," she
said, her lips meeting his in another kiss.
"Want you," he
murmured, his lips wandering over her face and neck, to nip and then suck at
her earlobe. She gasped and pulled him closer for a moment, then suddenly
seemed to come to herself. She pushed him away, gently, to hold him at arm's
length. Taking deep breaths, she got herself back under control.
"This is not wise,"
she said slowly and firmly, studying the floor between them. "You are not
the man I loved, and will be moving on. Yes?" At that, she looked up, hope
and despair warring on her face. "You do know,
you have a home here, if you wish it. A stopping point."
Nearly overcome with emotion
himself, Obi-Wan forced himself to calm down, to think again. "I-I don't
know..." he said slowly. "I haven't... oh
gods. Master, I don't know what to do."
Closing her eyes, she sank
back on her heels. "Then this is not the way to think about it, is
it?" she asked gently, wrapping her long arms around herself.
"N-no," he agreed,
reluctantly. Part of him wanted her so bad it hurt, and that part made him
smile a bit through his confusion and lust.
"What?" she asked
gently.
"I-I don't know," he
answered, helping her to her feet. "It's just funny, I guess. Male or
female, we seem to be destined to be together some way or other."
"Even as a pleasure boy,
evidently," she responded, wryly.
He laughed, a little, forced
thing. "Even as that. I couldn't see you as Qui-Gon at first, now I can't see you as anything else."
That troubled her for some
reason she couldn't put her finger on. Rather than worry at it, she took a
deep, cleansing breath and re-centered herself. "It seems we have excess
energy to work off. Would you care to spar? It always seemed to work in the
past."
Obi-Wan nodded, agreeing that
it might help indeed. "But I can't use my 'saber," he said.
"Oh, that's right. Wait
here." She slipped into her bedroom briefly and returned with a 'saber,
which she handed to him. "Yours wasn't lost. I've kept it... as a
memory."
Mouth open in shock, he took
the 'saber from her and hefted it. It was, indeed, his 'saber and he swallowed
in emotion as the familiar grip slipped into his hand. "Thank you,"
he whispered. "I-I don't know what to say."
"That's enough," she
said, her own voice rough. "Let's go spar."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sparring with Mar-Gon was both alike and different than sparring with Qui-Gon. She hadn't quite the reach or the strength of Qui-Gon, but did have an increased agility and tendency to go
to aerials that he had not. It didn't take Obi-Wan long to adapt to her
slightly different style, and they both enjoyed themselves.
He joined her and Anakin at
dinner, along with Yoda, who said little but watched all with bright,
inquisitive eyes. Anakin chatted with Obi-Wan, easily accepting that which his
elders had difficulty with. Obi-Wan found himself
unconsciously slipping into teacher mode frequently, since Anakin's classes had
been mechanical engineering and theory, something the boy excelled at
instinctively. After dinner, he helped Anakin clean up, over the boy's weak
protestations, then sat and listened happily while Mar-Gon,
Yoda and Anakin spoke of the latest Temple gossip. Soon it was Anakin's bed
time, and he bid the child a sleep well with a peaceful heart.
Soon after Anakin, Yoda stood.
"Retire, I shall too. In need of sleep does old Yoda become, like young
boy." He looked between the two left, silently assessing. Then he turned,
and as he left, said, "Door I will leave keyed to you, young Knight. See
you or not I will at breakfast."
As the door closed behind him,
the two Jedi laughed gently. "So much for subtlety," Mar-Gon said. "Can I get you another root beer?" she
asked, rising.
He stood to follow her. "I'd
love one, but I can get it." He fetched the bottle from the coldbox as she put water on for tea, then sipped it as he
watched her prepare the leaves, milk and honey. She turned before the water
boiled and caught him staring at her. "I'm sorry," he murmured,
looking down.
She moved to stand directly in
front of him and with a gentle touch, lifted his chin. "It's all right,
Obi-Wan," she said softly. "This is not a situation I would wish upon
my worst enemy."
He quirked a brief,
sad smile at her. "If I stay, we'll always have this tension
between us, won't we," he asked. "Even if... even if we become..."
Swallowing, she gave him an
anguished look. "You aren't him," she whispered, caressing his cheek,
a touch he unconsciously leaned into. "I'll always know it, deep
down."
"It's the same with
me," he murmured. With the realization and admittance came a lessening of
the strain between them, and finally their eyes could meet honestly. "I
would... I would give you a gift tonight, before I leave," he said,
slowly. "But I have no wish to hurt you, and I think it might."
"You always were wise
beyond your years," she said, ignoring the teapot whistling behind her. After
a moment, she turned and poured with shaking hands, steeping the tea. After a
few minutes more, to let it cool, she sipped. "I cannot deny that I am
sorely tempted," she said in a dreamy voice. "To be able to hold you
in my arms one last night..."
Hesitantly, Obi-Wan put his
bottle on the counter, then took her teacup and set it down as well. Then he
carefully enfolded her in a tight embrace. Some small part of his brain
marveled at how close in height they were, while the rest of him fought to keep
his physical reactions to a minimum, without much success. They stood wrapped
in each other's arms for a long moment, simply taking comfort in the other's
presence.
For one brief instant, Mar-Gon let go her grief and let herself
fall into fantasy. She once again held the man she loved more than anyone in
the galaxy. She felt his hardness nudge against her crotch, enveloped herself
in his smell, feel and aura once again. From the wetness between her legs, she
dispassionately realized how much her body wanted his, regardless of what her
head felt.
Reluctantly, they drew apart.
"I'd best go now, I think," he said roughly.
"Yes," she gasped,
her hands falling from his neck.
Before stepping away, he
leaned in and kissed her once more, a hot, hard kiss that stole breath. Then he
backed out of the kitchenette, his eyes not leaving hers until he turned in the
sitting room to walk out.
It was the hardest thing he
ever did.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yoda said nothing at all to
him at breakfast, merely served him some of his favorite hot sticky buns and
juice. After they had broken their fast, he said, "Given you clean bill of
health, the healers have. Meditate more, they suggest. Share meditation with me
this morning you would like?"
"Yes, Master," he
replied quietly. "I would like that. Then... I
think I should go, by noonmeal or just after." Meeting
Yoda's sad gaze, he continued, "It's just too painful to stay. For both of us."
Sighing, Yoda said,
"Understand I do. Sorry, I am. But right thing you are doing. Proud of
you, I am. Very proud."
Unaccountably, that brought a
huge lump to Obi-Wan's throat, which he barely
managed to wash away with the last of the juice. Then they knelt together in a
sunny patch of Yoda's apartment and meditated, the
presence of the aged Master a great comfort and support to Obi-Wan. He emerged
from meditation calmer and more at peace with himself than he had felt in days.
After noonmeal,
they went to the main statuary garden, the site of so many of Obi-Wan's transfers. Yoda reiterated what another version of
himself had advised, that Obi-Wan should always initiate the transfer from
outside, at least where possible. Yoda had also replaced his rather battered
satchel with a sturdier backpack, and as Obi-Wan hefted it he heard a tell-tale
clink of bottles.
"Only one six-pack,"
Yoda said, cackling. "When gone it is, gone it is for good. But give you
pleasure it will for a while." After a moment, he added, "When change
you do, seek me out you should first. Help you I will, I think, more than any
other."
As they made their way through
the garden, heading for the quiet corner Obi-Wan knew to be out-of-the-way, a
shout behind them made them turn. Mar-Gon and Anakin
were hurrying across the grass towards them, out of breath.
"You weren't going to
leave without saying goodbye, were you?" Anakin demanded,
his face stricken.
With a pang, remembering how
he left his own Padawan behind, Obi-Wan knelt and
held out his arms to Anakin, who swarmed into them. "I'm sorry, Ani," he whispered. "I didn't mean to. I just...
didn't want..."
"To hurt Master Mar-Gon again," Ani whispered back,
seriously. "I know. I promise, I'll take good
care of her."
Swallowing around his tears,
Obi-Wan said, "I know you will. I know you will." Then he stood and
faced Mar-Gon. Her face was composed but her eyes
were suspiciously bright. They hugged tightly, and kissed chastely. He pressed
his lightsaber into her hand. "I have yours -
his," he said harshly when she tried to protest. "This is all you
have left of him. I can't take that from you."
"Take care,
Obi-Wan," she said, her voice rough with tears. "The Force will be
with you, I know." Kissing him gently one last time, she released him,
mouthing, "Remember me."
"I will," he mouthed
back. Quickly kneeling again, he felt Yoda's blessing upon his head. Then he
stood, moved into the shady, sheltered corner, drew his 'saber and with a bang,
disappeared from their lives forever.
MrsHamill