Chapter 9
His internal time sense woke him at precisely 5th and one half hour, as it did every morning. He was immediately aware of his surroundings, easily remembering all that had occurred only a few hours before. Sitting forward in the chair he'd found next to the bed, his neck found it necessary to protest the rather unorthodox placement in which he'd chosen to sleep. A light touch of Healing Force soothed the persistent cramp, and he gently turned his head from side to side to work out any remaining kinks.
That done he looked to the still sleeping boy before him. Obi-Wan lay on his back, face turned away, the strong jaw line dusted with early morning stubble. His limbs were spread, in the complete abandonment of his youth, one arm up over his head, the other hanging over the opposite edge of the bed, palm upward, fingers slightly curled - the foot closest to Qui-Gon sticking out from beneath the covers. Without thought, Qui-Gon tugged on the blanket, covering the boy's foot as he prepared to stand - - stopping as the boy sighed in his sleep, turned his head to face him, and kicked his foot free of the offending covers.
Amused, Qui-Gon studied the young face that had turned to him. Children always look so much younger in sleep, so innocent, he thought. It was times like these that he truly made pause to consider if perhaps the Jedi really did ask too much of their young ones. Very rarely were the children in their midst allowed to be the children that they were. Much is expected of them, from the moment they enter the Temple and become wards of the Jedi.
Watching Obi-Wan sleep, it was easy to recall the countless times he had done this very same thing with his own padawan. It was one of the only times he saw the boy with all his defenses down, completely vulnerable. Qui-Gon shook his head, exasperated by even the memories of his former padawan. The boy always had to be in such control of himself, so determined to show no emotion, no weakness. He'd had to admit to himself that this had been an asset to them on many a mission, but when the same mask extended in private, when they were alone together - - it did tend to be a bit unsettling.
There had been other times of course, when that mask of control had slipped or had been forcefully removed by circumstances beyond the young man's realm of experience. It was during those times that Qui-Gon glimpsed the very real and frightened child that lie beneath that mask.
Perhaps the most memorable of those times for him, would be Regula. He shuddered at the memory, vaguely surprised that it could still affect him so. He and Xanatos had been sent to investigate the rumor of an underground slave trade, the planet being on the outskirts, but part of, Republic space.
The operation under surveillance was believed to be part of a much larger organization – most of which were connected to worlds beyond their reach, where the Republic's anti-slavery laws meant nothing. However, it had also been alleged that some very influential officials within the senate and other political circles on Coruscant and abroad had been known to fund the illegal trade.
The ultimate goal of their mission of course, was to shut down the Regula operation. However, the Council and senate both wanted the key players from within their own circle fleshed out. Qui-Gon hadn't known then, just how far up the ladder the corruption within their own beaurocracy had reached. He and his apprentice had entered the operation undercover – having no idea that their covers had already been blown.
He had managed to escape, purging the drugs in his system before his captors could get the suppression collar on him. Unfortunately, master and apprentice had already been separated and Xanatos had not been so lucky.
The two days he'd had to wait to go after his apprentice had easily been the longest days of his life. He'd known where the boy was being held - - but he could not breach their security on his own. With the ring being confirmed, he'd called in reinforcements to storm the complex before all the key players scattered to the wind. It was a large operation, which worked to his favor. It would take time to dismantle. Some of those involved had fled immediately, but others, those with a lot of credits invested were not so smart – unwilling to lose out on their investments. They had expected an attack, but not so soon. They were unprepared for the team of Jedi that came in under the cover of darkness, and completely undetected, to systematically shut down the entire Regula operation.
It was Mace who found Xanatos, comming Qui-Gon and asking him to come to level three of the complex, last door on the left. He entered the plush room to find Mace sitting on a bed next to his padawan. He approached slowly, taking in the décor of the room - the various implements of both pain and pleasure, the manacles, which thankfully were not in use, attached to head and footboards. His voice was strained as he continued to approach, calling the boy's name. When there was no response, he looked to Mace, seeing sympathy and concern written on the man's face. The knight rose, offering Qui-Gon his spot on the bed next to his padawan.
Sitting next to the boy, Qui-Gon once again took in the opulence of the room – his throat constricting as he revisited his own fears from the last two days, imagining what his apprentice may have had to endure. Though there were many kinds of slaves, Qui-Gon had known – and the lavish room had confirmed his worst fears, that his padawan was being prepped to sell as a pleasure slave. Force sensitive pleasure slaves were always in high demand, especially ones as young and striking as his apprentice.
His voice was hoarse yet gentle as he called to Xani a second time. Still, there was no response, no sign of recognition. Xanatos lay on his back, facing away from him, his eyes closed. Qui-Gon reached for him, turning the young face towards him. The touch was met with a small whimper, Xan's brow furrowing in obvious distress at the contact. The master lifted a heavy lid, troubled by the cloudy unfocused gaze.
He looked to Mace helplessly, his question obvious. His friend had already taken a sample of Xan's blood and was currently waiting for the results of whatever drug the boy had been given. Once determined, they should be able to counteract it.
Caressing Xani's face in an unconscious show of affection, his hand trembled – dismayed with the condition in which he'd found his apprentice. The boy was only partially dressed, wearing the inhibiting collar around his neck and a pair of soft black leather leggings. The pale skin glistened in the low lighting, showing evidence of body oil and a faint dusting of glitter. The eyes, still cloudy with drugs, had been smoothly lined and smudged with kohl. Yet most noticeable to the master was the numerous bruises and abrasions that covered the young body. His padawan had put up a fight. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.
He heard the small beep of Mace's hand held analyzer, and looked up as the knight approached the other side of the bed, placing a hypospray to Xan's throat. Mace then left, placing a supportive hand on Qui-Gon's shoulder as he did so.
Within seconds the anti-toxin began to purge the drug from Xani's system. He moaned softly, turning away from Qui-Gon – his movements sluggish and slow. Qui-Gon saw dull blue eyes open, but remained quiet as the body next to him stiffed – in obvious remembrance of his circumstances. The boy's face fell as he swallowed past a lump in his throat, closing eyes that were already beginning to water. He was as yet unaware of the presence next to him.
Why Qui-Gon waited so long to speak, he did not know. Perhaps it was too hard to talk past the lump in his own throat. "Xan," he barely recognized his own voice, so full of emotion.
The boy's eyes opened, widening as he turned to take in the man sitting next to him. Qui-Gon had only a second to register the shock and heartbreaking relief on Xan's face before the young man was in his arms, clutching him tightly. The lithe body noticeably trembled in an attempt to halt the release of emotion that was about to overwhelm them both.
At some point, Qui-Gon realized he was murmuring a steady stream of quiet reassurances. He had no idea what he was saying, only that he wanted to soothe, to comfort. Yet the more he tried, the more desperate his padawan seemed to become, pulling him tighter and tighter. He heard a hitch in the boy's breathing, felt the slim shoulders shake and waited for the first sob to break free. It didn't take long, and Qui-Gon held him solidly to his chest as the boy finally let go – feeling the warmth of tears begin to soak his tunics.
The fear, uncertainty and utter loss of control from the last two days all but consumed him, Xanatos able to shield nothing of his feelings due to the collar still clasped around his neck.
Qui-Gon himself found what comfort he could in just being able to hold the boy, pleased that he was being allowed to do so. Whatever had happened, whatever ordeal the boy had been through, they would deal with it together.
In time, the sobs abated, the weeping continuing in silence as Xanatos burrowed, if possible, even closer to his master – showing no indication of moving from the man's embrace. The hitching had returned and was now turning to intermittent sniffles as the body in his arms slowly began to go lax.
The emotional outpouring and recent events were taking their hold, the boy in his arms too exhausted to fight the pull of sleep. Qui-Gon sighed in relief as Xanatos finally succumbed, his hand going to the back of the lolling head on his shoulder.
For a long time, he just held Xanatos, perfectly content to not break the closeness between them. Soon however, the need to remove his apprentice from the place where he'd been held captive motivated him to move. He lowered the boy to the bed, quickly removing the offending collar. Then, with great care, he took his time to efficiently and gently clean the streaks of drying kohl and tears from the achingly young face. Removing his cloak, he tenderly nudged the boy into an even deeper sleep as he wrapped the boy from head to toe within its protective folds – a glimpse of bare feet the only skin to be seen as Qui-Gon carried his charge out and away from the complex.
As Obi-Wan shifted in his sleep, Qui-Gon came back to himself – the memory of Xanatos momentarily superimposing the image of the sleeping boy before him. Xanatos had been seventeen then, the same age Obi-Wan is now. In the stillness of the dawn, and the wake of Obi-Wan's nightmare not to mention his own reminiscing – he was suddenly struck by the youthful vulnerability before him. His feelings conflicted as the two time lines seemed to merge. I
A trip to the healers had confirmed what Xanatos had already told him. The boy had not been violated. Roughed up, yes. Teased and taunted in detail, and made to think he would be violated, yes – but not . . . he still found it hard to even think the word. While relieved at this information, Qui-Gon found the reasons behind it somewhat alarming.
A week later, the team home and recovering, Qui-Gon received a visit from Mace. Having decoded most of the available data from the Regula mainframe – evidence indicated possible interest in one force sensitive slave labeled only as X. The alarming part being that most of the inquiries were initiated at least two weeks before the Jedi had been captured. The buyer, listed only as P had paid in full for X on the day of his capture – and was scheduled to pick him up the very day the ring was disbanded. Unfortunately, no other information on buyer P had ever turned up.
A loud sound from the kitchen pulled him from his reverie and he slowly stood, stretching his large frame. Feeling a bit melancholy due to lack of sleep and revisiting old memories he took one last look at Obi-Wan as he left the room, once again pulling the covers over the protruding foot as he make his exit. He made it all the way to the kitchen before they were once again kicked free. Entering, he found Yoda rummaging through the icebox, pulling out various items, and noticed the table was set for three.
"Good morning, master." Qui-Gon said, being overly cheerful on purpose, no apparent trace of his lack of sleep showing.
Yoda merely grunted at him and continued on his way. Qui-Gon smiled affectionately, more than amused. Not many people knew that Master Yoda himself was among those to be considered NOT a morning person - - until he'd finished his morning cup of chai, that is. Growing serious, Qui-Gon settled himself at the table, pushing the place setting away.
"So, how long has this been going on?" He asked.
Yoda looked at him, but did not answer.
"This is the real reason you were here last night, isn't it?" Qui-Gon concluded, then, "I knew there was more to it."
"Your business it is not," Yoda said brusquely.
Qui-Gon however was not to be deterred. "You've been doing your best to make it my business since I stepped off that transport."
Yoda paused before speaking. "My decision, it is not. Up to another, it is."
"If you think I can help . . . ." He quietly started, but didn't get to finish.
"Yes! Think you can help, I do." Yoda cut him off, "but push him on this I will not. Decision must be his."
"Xanatos . ."
Yoda held his hand up to silence him. "Quiet you will be. Waking, the boy is. Your opinion of his master, he does not need to hear."
Reluctant, but agreeing, Qui-Gon remained silent. There would be time to talk later. Resigned, he watched Yoda reach into the warmer - and was horrified when he produced a tray full of the nasty little dry cakes the master was so fond of, the ones Qui-Gon had hoped to never again see once his days as a padawan had come to an end. His revulsion must have been evident.
"Eat, or do not. All there is." Yoda said as he slipped into his seat.
There was really no question - eat, he most certainly would not. Luckily, tea and juice were also available and he helped himself to some muju juice just as Obi-Wan came staggering out of the bedroom, still more asleep than awake. He was unsure how the boy would interpret his presence, or if his assistance last night would even be remembered. Still, he offered a reserved, "morning."
A grunt similar to the one Yoda gave him moments earlier greeted him. "Ah, another morning person I see." Both glared at his obvious amusement, before turning their attention to more important matters.
Yoda had already started in on one of the foul little pastries he loved so – and Qui-Gon watched incredulously as Obi-Wan reached for three of them, eating one in two bites as he reached for a jar of dark golden honey. The boy then began to smother the other two with the thick sticky syrup. Well, that's one way to eat them, he thought. One of Qui-Gon's brows rose, inching higher as the boy continued to pour the honey. Neither of his companions spoke a word – and seemed to prefer it that way.
Qui-Gon watched as Obi-Wan finished off half of the available juice and his other two pastries in three bites, reaching for more. He was amazed at the interaction and ease between the two, the boy completely comfortable sitting here all rumpled and grumpy, breaking fast with the head of the Jedi Council - like it happened every day. When Obi-Wan reached for another cake, Qui-Gon almost laughed out loud at the concerned look on Yoda's face as the little master reached for seconds as well, before they all disappeared. Force, he'd forgotten just how much a growing boy could eat. A few minutes later, Obi-Wan quietly excused himself, grabbing one more pastry to eat on his way to the fresher.
"Likes my cooking, he does." Yoda was obviously pleased at the boy's appetite. Qui-Gon watching the boy as he left the room.
"So it appears." Qui-Gon said, still amazed at the whole exchange. Hearing the sonics start in the fresher, he thought that a shower sounded like a very good idea. He downed the rest of his juice, preparing to leave. He had just set his cup down when he heard the door slide open, turning in his seat as Xanatos entered the room – each man freezing at the sight of the other.
Xanatos had known of Qui-Gon's presence, having been informed by Yoda when he commed in the middle of the night after sensing his padawan's distress. What he hadn't been prepared for however, was to see the man still here and looking so comfortable in his kitchen when he arrived. The words he spoke were due more to surprise and were much harsher than intended. "What is he doing here?" He asked Yoda.
Qui-Gon's hackles immediately rose at the disrespectful tone, and the question being directed to Yoda – as if he himself were not worthy of asking. His softened perceptions, due to the earlier memory of a younger more vulnerable Xanatos, hardened once again – the cold feeling of betrayal once again taking hold.
"I was doing what you should have been doing." Qui-Gon said, rising to his full height, only an inch or two taller than Xanatos. His voice had not risen, but was noticeably condescending. He watched as temper briefly flared in cerulean eyes, and was noticeably harnessed.
"Your assistance with my padawan is appreciated." Obviously hard to say, and Qui-Gon was shocked by the admission. "However, it is no longer necessary. You may take your leave." The obvious dismissal grated against him, all but voiding the begrudging apology, in his eyes.
"Yes, I could do that," Qui-Gon stated coolly, "However, I have a few questions."
This time the fire that flared in azure eyes was not banked so easily. "Do you?" The smooth voice quietly controlled. "And what right is that of yours?"
When Obi-Wan appeared, stopping short at the tension filling the room, Qui-Gon stifled his response. He noted the shower had done wonders for the boy, though his eyes were still noticeably shadowed.
A silent exchange between master and apprentice was obvious, interrupted by the chime to the door. Giving a nod in the direction of the door, Xanatos excused his padawan. Qui-Gon watched the boy disappear around his master and into the other room.
"Look," He said, keeping his voice low. "There is obviously something going on here. I would like to help."
Yoda had remained quiet throughout the exchange, his expression now turning hopeful.
"We do not need your help."
"You, may not." Qui-Gon's words were clipped, turning cold at Xanatos' apparent stubbornness. "The same may not be true for Obi-Wan."
"None of this is your concern." His frustration at Qui-Gon's involvement obvious.
"It has been made my concern. I am involved now." Qui-Gon lowered his voice, upon hearing new voices in the other room. "Obi-Wan responded to me last night, he let me help him. Will you let him suffer, just to spite me?"
"You have no idea what I would or would not do for that boy - - nor is it any of your business." He'd had enough of this conversation. "Leave."
There seemed to be no reasoning with Xanatos. His temper was rising, and he was about to let it get the better of him.
"You haven't changed a bit, have you?" Some disgust evident. "It's always about you."
"Get out," Calmly, any hurt Xanatos felt at the statement being immediately internalized.
Qui-Gon turned his attention on Yoda, who was looking disappointed with both of them. "I can help him, you know this. Will you not intervene?"
Yoda turned to Xanatos, focusing on the young master. "Believe I do, that help, Qui-Gon can." His voice was gentle, knowing how his words would affect the other man. "Do what's best for Obi-Wan, we must."
Xanatos was noticeably torn at Yoda's words. Of course he would do whatever was best for Obi-Wan – he just wasn't convinced that this was it. When he remained silent, Qui-Gon became impatient. "For once in your life, will you put someone else first!"
"Qui-Gon," Yoda said, trying to intervene before things got any more out of control.
"Force!" Qui-Gon went on unheeded, turning to grab his cloak as he continued to rant, his patience at an end. "All this for a boy you didn't even want in the first place?"
He had put his cloak on and adjusted it before he realized that it felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. He turned around, puzzled, then froze when he saw Obi-Wan standing there, a wounded look in his eyes. It wasn't until that moment that he fully realized what he had just said. Closing his eyes in regret, he missed the heated look that Yoda was giving him.
Opening them, he noticed that Xanatos had moved a step closer to Obi-Wan, reaching to firmly grasp the boy's chin. "You know better." Not a trace of his anger towards Qui-Gon was apparent, focused solely on the boy in front of him. "Any doubts I may have had were in myself. Never you."
"I know," A little shaky, then firmer more confident, "I know." They shared a long confirming look, Obi-Wan smiling tremulously as Xanatos released him. His gaze flickered uncertainly to Qui-Gon as he retrieved his datapad from the table and joined his friends - - who had heard the whole exchange. Garen put a supportive arm around Obi-Wan's shoulders as he turned, while Bant shot daggers at Qui-Gon.
/I'm sorry/ Qui-Gon thought to himself as he watched the boy go. He was stunned when both Xanatos and Obi-Wan spun to face him, their expressions shocked. Everyone else managing to look confused at the new undercurrents filling the room.
Xanatos immediately shielded both himself and Obi-Wan, cutting off any further contact. Turning to his padawan, ignoring for now the alarm in wide changeable eyes, his voice booked no argument. "Class. Now." He felt Obi-Wan tentatively access the bond, seeking reassurance. While he returned as much assurance as he could, considering his shock, his response through the bond remained much the same /Go to class/. He waited until the door slid closed behind the trio, turning to face Qui-Gon and Yoda expectantly.
"Just what in the Sith pits of hell happened here last night?"
TBC…
Ugh! Never have I been so happy to post a chapter and move on with my life :) I had a TERRIBLE time with this, and it was supposed to be an easy transitional chapter. Poor arldetta had to read the garbage which was the first and unedited draft that still slightly resembles what you just read. I only hope you found no evidence of my hardship. The memory scene with Qui and Xan was not part of the original outline for this fic – and what I was trying to convey was just beyond my ability to write properly. Still, I hope you enjoyed the glimpse into their time together.
CYN: So good to see you. I'm always honored when you drop by one of my fics. Thanks so much.
Antigone: No pitchfork is necessary this time :D You may need to prod me in future chapters however. I too have grown attatched to this Xan – the dilemma for me will be to see if I can stick with my original plan for this story ;)
Starre: Hello new reader :) Glad you like my Xan and hope that you continue to enjoy.
Dani: So many questions :D Let me just say that the future is always in motion. And it's not necessarily the sith who is making Obi forget – it's more like he doesn't want to remember.
Seven: Thanks seven!
Opals: Another new reader, I'm so excited. Thank you so much for your comments – I just love reviews like that.
Lessa Solarem: Thanks. Hope you find what's to come to your liking.
Sheila: Yup, more questions – but there will be some answers forthcoming, soon.
PadawanKitara: Lets just say that bond will come in handy;)
obiew: Glad you are still enjoying, and I'm doing something right if you are feeling that sense of foreboding. Oh, the things we do to these characters :) It's such fun though.
Shaindl: Thanks, I thought the nightmare scene went well. As for Xan – guess we'll have to wait and see ;)
Thank you all for the comments, your reviews do tend to keep me motivated. This fic has a little over 5,000 hit's so far – so I just wanted to say a thanks to you lurkers as well :)
