AN: Bonded is my weird lumpy baby. I got the idea late one night while watching The Empire Strikes Back, but it combines a lot of ideas I've had for years that I hoped I'd get to RP or that I'd be able to convince someone else to write for me. There are going to be many arcs in the Bonded saga, at least one for each year Qui-Gon trains Obi-Wan. A lot of those arcs will have more than one book in them.
Bonded is a full AU and will diverge pretty hard from most established canon. Their personalities will likely remain very similar to canon as I do rather adore them canonically
The ages are very likely different from canon. I did some age research during the development, but I (very likely) changed Qui-Gon's age from canon to better fit my storyline.
In the Bonded storyline, Qui-Gon Jinn is 36 when he takes 12 year old Obi-Wan on as his Padawan Learner. I have legit no idea how old Qui-Gon is in canon when he takes Obi-Wan on as his Padawan. As I said, I did a bit of research but since this is an AU I didn't really put too much stock in canon ages.
Mota is a human originally from Corellia. I'm not the best at making sure that my descriptions are any damn good (or existent to begin with) so I figure I'll point that out.
Maggy is based loosely on a friend I had as a child and a bully that bothered me through middle school. They're so vain I bet they think this saga's about them.
This is legitimately the largest project I've ever attempted. I've never even considered writing the amount of words this thing will span.
In this AU you have until your 14th birthday to be chosen as someone's Padawan before you're ousted from the Temple. Fight me.
(These notes cover until chapter six)
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He knew that the extra line could not be a good thing. The strange, birthmark-like symbol on his left wrist had been the same since it had first appeared on him at age twelve, so why did it change now? What can it possibly mean, Qui-Gon Jinn wondered as he ran his thumb over the new line. Part of him still hoped that, if he rubbed hard enough, he could scrub away that marking.
He'd first noticed the new line months before, but it was only now that he was to return to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant that he actually gave it any amount of thought. This is certain to stir up talks of me taking on a Padawan, he thought with a heavy sigh. For nearly fifteen years he had been working on his own, pairing up with another Jedi only when a mission absolutely could not be done by a single person.
He'd resisted the call to take on a Padawan Learner since his late twenties. At least then he'd had the excuse of waiting for the Force to choose someone for him. It was rare for the Force not to make a suggestion, and it was rarer still for a Jedi not to take the Initiate the Force bound them to as their Padawan Learner. The excuse had worked for him for quite a while, though Yoda still bothered him about it as often as they saw one another.
Thankfully, that wasn't very often.
He would miss his time on Kashyyyk, however. He found the Wookiees were far more agreeable than his fellow Jedi. It wasn't often that they questioned the way he did something, and when they did it was with good reason. He hoped to be placed on another long-term mission as quickly as possible upon his return.
He packed his things and made his way out to say goodbye to the friends he'd made over his two-year mission of peace. It was nearly the entire village and two nearby villages' worth of Wookiees gathered to say goodbye to the Jedi.
By the time he made it to his shuttle, Qui-Gon was certain that his ribs would be sore for many months after all of the hugs he had received. He gave one last look back at the Wookiees before boarding the shuttle. Though it was forbidden by the Jedi Code, he had grown quite attached to Kashyyyk. It was his home now, just as much as Coruscant was.
By the time he was no longer in the planet's atmosphere, he was beginning to really look forward to arriving at the Jedi Temple. It had been far too long since he'd been back. Though the Council had the unique tendency to drive him positively mad while exerting fairly little energy, there was a unique nostalgia about standing in the halls that had been his home for nearly forty years.
He found he kept glancing down at his wrist as he piloted the shuttle back to Coruscant. The new line on his mark was incredibly distracting, nearly as distracting as the mark had been when it had first appeared on his skin so many years ago.
He wondered if there would be a child waiting at the Temple for him with a hopeful glint in their eyes. He didn't want to think about the heartbreak that would replace that hope when they learned that he would not train them. He did so hate causing others pain.
"Why now?" he wondered aloud. There was nobody else there to answer his query, and so it hung there, unanswered. Perhaps it is nothing but a diseased mole that I'll need to have the healers look at, he thought. The thought was strangely comforting.
Yes, he was certain that it would be better if his body were to revolt. The last thing he wanted was for the Force to saddle him with an apprentice.
He tried to push the thoughts from his mind, and for a while it worked. But as he drew closer to Coruscant he began to feel a strange presence in his mind. It was almost as though there were a second person there, thinking and maneuvering completely independently and yet still somehow connected to him. He groaned, knowing precisely what it was.
He wasn't ready to break some poor child's heart. It was a pain he knew all too well, after all. There was simply no way he could see himself training anybody though. Ever. And there wasn't anything he could think of that would cause him to change his mind.
As he landed his shuttle and gathered his things, he began to prepare himself for what he figured was inevitable at this point. Initiates were often quite excited when their mark appeared. He was just imagining a child running out to greet him and crashing right into him.
Looking up at the Temple as it loomed ahead of him, he found himself contemplating getting back into his shuttle and going back to Kashyyyk. Surely they wouldn't mind if he stayed on a little longer.
Surely he could put off his return to the Jedi Temple just a few more months.
Coward, he scolded himself with a small chuckle. A Jedi mustn't fear.
He knew that, whatever he faced upon entering the Temple, it would not be anything more than what he could handle. The Force would guide him.
He walked quickly into the Temple, keeping his head down and his pace brisk so as to deter anyone who might wish to stop him and welcome him back. It was his mission now to keep away from the child the Force had chosen for him for as long as possible.
Once he slipped into his quarters he felt like he could breathe again. Though the mental connection had only grown stronger with every step he'd taken inside the Temple, he'd not run into the one he was connected to yet. He knew it was only a matter of time; the child had likely been groomed specifically for him.
He wasn't looking forward to meeting someone who likely knew more about him than he did.
Everything in his quarters was precisely as he left it when he'd packed and gone to Kashyyyk so many months before. The familiarity of it all made Qui-Gon smile. He'd missed the Temple more than he'd anticipated.
As he headed into his fresher to clean himself up after his journey, he wondered just what kind of child he'd been paired with. Not that it mattered, of course. He had no intentions of training them so he wasn't entirely sure why he was even thinking about it, but he found he was far more curious than he'd anticipated.
No wonder the Wookiees were so fond of me, he thought with a laugh as he looked at himself in the mirror. I've never had such a beard before in my life!
He ran a hand through his long, dark brown hair as he admired the beard he'd grown over the course of the mission. He wished his hair would grow a bit faster so he could tie it back to keep it out of his face. It barely touched his earlobes at its longest point, but it was still growing.
His beard was reaching a rather impressive length as it began to block his Adam's apple from view, and he felt subsequently bereft when he was finished trimming it back to a reasonably short length.
He ran his hand through his hair one more time and froze, impressed. He had a nearly inch-wide streak of gray just behind his left ear. It was nearly completely hidden by the rest of his hair, but if he pulled his hair back just so, he could see it. He looked forward to the day that he looked as old as he felt often times.
Once he was out of the shower, he put on a fresh tunic and pair of leggings. Exiting the fresher, he flopped across his bed and sighed happily. The longer he was in his own quarters, the less he found himself thinking about the boy or girl who was (probably) anxiously waiting for him to make an appearance somewhere they could approach him.
Surely they cannot fault me for taking a nap before dealing with my duties, he thought sleepily as he nestled down into his bed. It was a long flight back from Kashyyyk.
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He awoke several hours later, groggy and unpleasantly stiff-limbed. He hadn't thought he'd fallen asleep in a very awkward position, but it had been a long time since he'd last slept on a bed. It had been the floor or a hammock on Kashyyyk, with the hammock being the preferable choice.
This is going to take some getting used to, he thought.
He felt at least a decade older than his thirty-six years as he rolled over and forced himself to sit up at the edge of the bed. Every joint in his upper body popped or snapped as he leaned forward and smoothed his hair back. He found surprisingly few tangles; he'd really slept hard.
And far longer than he'd intended. He still needed to be debriefed by the Council about his mission.
He groaned as he noticed the fresh line on his mark once more. He wanted to put off leaving his quarters indefinitely, but he knew that the Council would not wait for him forever.
His hip popped loudly as he stood and stretched. He glanced down at it, impressed with the amount of sound it could make. Perhaps I should look into getting a hammock installed, he thought as he headed for the door. He tried to ignore the bond that continued to grow in his mind. He couldn't wait for that to be cut by the Council. The Initiate would likely not understand why they were being rejected, but at least Qui-Gon would be alone in his own mind once more. That was all he really wanted.
He took a deep breath before he opened the door.
It was the end of classes for the day and the habitat area was alive with the bubbly, excited energy of Initiates and Padawans playing games with their friends and enjoying their time off from their studies. The general din was strangely comforting to Qui-Gon. He found comfort in a crowd, but he desperately wanted to be alone.
Those who proclaimed to know him would insist that wasn't the only oxymoronic thing about the young Jedi Knight, but he would deny their claims. He'd deny most things said about him, really. The Council seemed to only care about the Jedi he was on the surface. Rarely did they try to understand the depth of anything he attempted to do.
As he made his way through the crowded corridors toward the Council Chamber, he again found his mind wandering to the subject of the child that had been bound to him by the Force.
As he stepped into the elevator, he felt as if he'd been zapped by high voltage electricity. Looking to his left, he saw a boy of eleven or twelve staring up at him in awe and wonder.
There was nothing special about this boy and yet this boy was important. Very important. His hair was a shade of ruddy brown that reminded Qui-Gon of one of the Wookiees he'd worked closely with on Kashyyyk. His eyes struck him to his very core. They were an icy shade of blue-green that he was almost certain couldn't be natural, and yet here he was staring at living proof.
As he took in the boy's face, he noticed the mark just below his right ear. It was identical to the mark that now resided on his wrist. No wonder he's staring, he thought.
"You're… You're Qui-Gon Jinn," the boy managed to stammer as he stared at him, eyes wide as saucers. "You… It's really you!"
This is going to be harder than I thought, Qui-Gon realized.
