The tenacious resolve that burned inside of him did little to cure the bitter rage as Vos struggled to gain control over his thoughts. Being outright abandoned by Master Yoda on the Senate's whim without so much as a word of explanation as to why an internal Jedi affair was any of their business, ground his last nerve down to a stump. The taste of betrayal was rancid as ever, perhaps even more.
Yoda dispatched him at the very start- he knew what they were set against. But he hadn't been the one in the field chasing down leads. He didn't have the curse of telemetry showing him things that he never wanted to know. The violent stories that objects and dead bodies could tell were real, and were indelibly marred into his consciousness for all eternity. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make in order to bring Jinn to justice, but to Master Yoda it meant nothing at all.
Yoda was just as bad as the bureaucrats that demanded he turn back to Coruscant on their beck and call. For all of Yoda's experience, he was blind to the raw truth of what was really going on. Blind in all the ways Vos could never be even if he tried. What a wonderful luxury. Simple, willful ignorance. It was a trait that Vos would have never attributed to the little green Jedi Master before that moment.
If his temper would have cooled at all Quinlan might have wondered what pressure Yoda was facing for him to suggest he turn back at all. He had to have known there was no way Vos would obey that command, not after such a promising lead. And in passing Vos did think those things, but only for the span of a second. The sting of betrayal outweighed any other thoughts that battled for his focus.
He didn't care what Yoda thought about his defiance. He didn't care about any possible repercussions. The only repercussions that mattered were the ones Obi-wan would face if he failed him. He didn't even want to think about the hell he would be cast into if he were to slip through his fingers again. After all, the Council and Senate would have nothing to say at all when he brought Obi-wan back home, safe and sound- and that was the only acceptable outcome.
However heated he was, Vos knew unkempt emotion wasn't going to help him carry out his mission so he did his best to put the bulk of it aside. Taking a breath to center himself, he thought out his next move. The best thing would be to go back to the palace and confer with Zaria and talk to Anakin if he could. Anything to get to Obi-wan, and Jinn in return.
The more Vos had learned about Jinn picking over the tracks he left behind, the more Vos began to suspect that Qui-gon was an essential link in the slave trade that ran rampant in the shaddows of Barran-Fa. It made sense that the market had only grown since Zaria came into power. Jinn had been in the periphery ever since Henrik was put on trial at the beginning of Zaria's reign. And even though she put many legal measures and cargo checkpoints in place to help stifle the heinous black market trading, the root of it seemed to slip right through her grasp every time she tried to crackdown on it.
Certainly it was no coincidence that Jinn was assigned to assist the trial when Henrik escaped from his jail cell, either. All of it was too convenient, especially in light of Jinn's affiliation with such dark proclivities. For a man with such non-existent morals, it wasn't a stretch at all to assume he was at least knee deep in the trade himself.
Such an extensive black market network would involve locations for holding prisoners- slaves- before they were sent off world. They would have to have secure locations equipped with their own medical resources. A slave with a broken arm couldn't be taken to just any med center on world lest they escape or be found out. They would need to be treated in the security of one of their own facilities.
And if Jinn brought Obi-wan back to Barran-Fa injured like Vos knew he did, and he was involved with those traders, there was only one place Obi-wan could be. If he wasn't dead- and Vos knew Jinn wasn't about to let his prize die- he would have to be in one of those facilities.
With his mind clear, it wasn't so difficult to connect the dots. Effectively honing his anger into discipline, Vos set out to the palace. He would need to act fast, dawn was already quickly approaching. With or without Master Yoda's help or blessing, he would finish the mission, if it was the last thing he did.
….
Obi-wan missed the way the force used to shine into him, the way it would wash right through him. Too much darkness had visited him since the last time he felt the light and its kind rays of hope. It felt like years, but he knew it was much less than that. Not that it mattered. He still felt soiled and irredeemably dirty. It may as well have been ten years for how much had changed. The light might have poured into him to lessen his burden, if only he could have reached out for it and felt something in return.
More than sadness, its void left a lingering unease that worsened with time. It sat heavy on his chest, crushing him. He had become used to it during his time with Lord Novus in a dreadful way. Novus had been simple, mostly predictable in comparison to Jinn. Now with Qui-gon due to return at any time and no way to sense his proximity, Obi-wan felt his insides turn to stone. Seeds of terror sprouted in his belly as a cold nausea swept over him. Being alone only made the sickness so much worse.
The medic that had been tasked with his care was long gone. She left him to move onto her usual duties after she was certain that he was in stable condition. He couldn't decide what was worse, enduring her disheartening conversation, or being alone with his own thoughts. It didn't matter much since he didn't have a choice.
So his mind ran wild, reminding him of all the things Qui-gon might do to him upon his return. Distantly Obi-wan was aware of the cold streams of tears that silently ran down his cheeks. Inside he was screaming, he would have been sobbing if he had any more energy to waste on such things, but he was exhausted, traumatized, and in spite of his renewed blood supply his limbs still felt weak.
Obi-wan didn't know what would be worse- for Jinn to be mercilessly cruel and violent, or for him to use the implant against him. Judging by the way his stomach sank at the thought, he decided violence was preferable. At least then he could try to hold onto a shred of dignity. Then his willpower wouldn't erode away under chemical manipulation that he was powerless against no matter how hard he tried to resist it. That was the worst thing imaginable, Obi-wan decided. Even worse than the times Jinn would push pleasure onto him. At least then he hadn't been reduced to begging.
That chip would make him more a slave to Jinn than he had ever been his entire life. It nearly didn't make sense that Qui-gon didn't have him fitted with one before. Perhaps cost was the issue. Maybe Jinn didn't want a begging whore. No- Jinn wanted someone to cry and tremble beneath him. Another pang of sickness left Obi-wan's palms damp with sweat at the thought.
Obi-wan drew a shaky breath, trying to calm himself down with little success. He thought if he could center himself even without the force to aid his efforts, he could be more objective. It was the only thing he could do while shackled to a sleeper by his ankles.
He had attempted to free himself but the binders were too secure to get loose. Besides if he did escape, he was sure the girl who nursed him back to health would die for his defiance, or worse. And even still, Jinn would get him in the end. With the inhibitor Obi-wan didn't stand a chance against him- not that he had much of a chance without it, either.
His fate was inevitable. He had chosen it for himself long ago. This was the natural consequence for that choice. Obi-wan would have to face Jinn as he was. The thought was not a pleasant one but he would suffer through, just as he always had. Now he had someone to suffer for.
Anakin was the light of his thoughts, shining silver halos over the dark clouds that Jinn cast over him. In the fleeting moments that Obi-wan was able to look past the darkness that Qui-gon had painted over his whole life, it was Anakin that gave him meaning. Saving that boy was the only thing that gave him worth.
So Obi-wan would take whatever Jinn had to dole out. Somehow they would get free of him, eventually. He had no clue as to when that would be or what that would look like, but he tried to focus on the determination of it. For a sliver of a moment, he did, before the overwhelming fear of what Jinn was planning for him swallowed him up again.
….
Vos knew something was terribly amiss before he even stepped foot inside the palace. If there hadn't been the bustle of guards along with an increased military presence to tip him off, there was the loud darkness to assure him that something was wrong. Irreversibly wrong.
Scaling up the wall of the palace, careful to remain invisible to the guards and officers present, Vos maneuvered his way to Zaria's quarters. Even outside the air was thick with Qui-gon's presence, much like it had back in the shipyard. The man no longer cared about hiding his tracks. It was careless. Even worse, it was reckless. Unhinged as he was seeming to become, Jinn would be detrimentally unpredictable. That made it even more important to find Obi-wan sooner rather than later, Vos thought.
Finally reaching Zaria's veranda, Vos felt death settle onto his skin. It was nothing compared to the residue Jinn left that only seemed to grow more potent as he closed in on his destination, but really, he already knew. Vos knew the moment he felt something was wrong. So it surprised him to feel his stomach turn at the sight of the body. It wasn't as if he had never seen death before, he had, and in much more gruesome detail.
It wasn't the gore that struck him ill. There wasn't much of that at all, really. It was sad to see her body lying there, skin long drained of its color, turning a pale gray shade. Vos saw the evidence of violence in the crusted blood on her scalp, in the bruising on her face and neck and the torn front of her gown. The savagery of her injuries contrasted the clean blaster wound that had ended her. Whatever Jinn had planned for her had clearly been interrupted. In a way that was a mercy, he supposed.
Vos's hand trembled, hovering just above her flesh. He was afraid of what she would tell him. His stomach sank again. He didn't want to know anymore of what Jinn was capable of. But that didn't matter, there was no other choice. Dreading the knowing of things that would never be erased from his mind, Vos reached out to hold Zaria's cold hand in his own.
A rush of images, emotions and knowledge struck through him like a crashing wave. It took a few seconds for him to realize how hard he was clutching her hand as he came back. With a quiet gasp he released his hold on her cold stiff fingers, feeling even more sick for the knowing.
Dark black eyes, wicked words among other terrible things danced in his consciousness. Jinn took Anakin, he knew. Obi-wan was close, but he didn't know where. If he found one he would find the other. Rushing for the veranda, Vos leapt down and back out of sight making a dash for the forest tree line.
Vos forced himself to pause before he set out. He sat up against one of the mammoth trees that surrounded the palace and dove into a meditative state, deeper and more intense than his usual routine practice. He reached out, spanning over the entire city.
As he looked he could see all the people as they moved about, all different species and sexes in one beautiful mesh that made up the fabric of society. He would have appreciated it more if he weren't specifically hunting for one in the midst of them all. Really, it was a beautiful phenomenon.
Instead of admiring the light in the world he honed in on the darkest corners of the city, wells of pain that hung like dark cancerous moles on the whole. The scars of darkness spread like tumors, multiplying and dividing, selling and trading sentient suffering.
Vos could see the dark entity that used them all, profited and capitalized on the commodity of pain and labor. He could see it like a web that covered the entire planet, branching out into the galaxy like a network of death, killing the hopes and dreams of millions of souls. It stole and ravaged, desperately addicted to the light that surrounded it, hungry to devour every bit it could reach.
He found a seed of that darkness. He found Qui-gon Jinn- on the outskirts of the town in what seemed like a small isolated compound. In meditation, he could almost touch the man's mind. Too terrified of what he might find, he pulled himself from meditation and set out to find him.
He would find him. And if he wasn't dead already, he would kill him, himself.
….
Breaking through the deafening thud of his heart beat pounding in his ears, Obi-wan caught the sound of footsteps in the hall. His breath froze in his lungs as his pulse quickened.
Don't let it be him…
The whine and creak of the plank floor out in the hall made Obi-wan's insides cringe. He felt the childlike reflex to run and hide- under the sleeper or in a closet. It screamed in his chest from the lowest, basest part of himself- instinctual. If you hide, the monsters won't be able to find you.
Of course he knew better. In the real world the monsters always found you. Even trying to evade their wrath just made them angier, hungrier. Any thought to hide was a futile one. The best he could do would be to pull the covers over his head and pray for mercy, and he wasn't going to give such a show of cowardice. There had to be some last bit of dignity left for him to claim.
So he forced himself to sit up and put his back against the headboard as best he could. The metal of his restraints dug into his flesh as he strained. He steadied himself, grabbing fistfulls of the threadbare sheet that covered the well worn mattress. It was all he could do to dull the wave of panic that struck through him. With it came that familiar cold creeping over him again, sinking into his skin, into his bones.
It's going to be alright, he told himself, unable to get his lips to speak the lie. The sentiment fell flat before he even thought to put stock in it. He wanted to believe that he wouldn't be hurt like he had so many times before. It was a childish thing to hope for. Hope in any capacity seemed rather infantile anymore. He knew what he was, and what he was for, just as well as he knew exactly whose footsteps trailed their way to his room.
But that didn't change how his blood ran cold when the door to the small room slowly opened giving way to the man who stood behind it. Nor did it change how Obi-wan froze under that stare.
His eyes were markedly different, and it was more than just the new amber glow that sparked there. It was something gnawingly intangible, if only he had the force to help him sense it.
Qui-gon shut the door behind him softly, not taking his eyes off his prize for one second. Obi-wan surveyed him with a measure of distant fear as he pulled inwards, just like he had so many times before. He took note of the bite mark stamped deep into the flesh of Jinn's neck, as well as the drying darkening shades of crimson that flaked off his skin and hardened into his clothes. He numbly wondered what violence preceded it without really wanting to know.
Because it didn't really matter. Not really. Jinn still cased towards him, taunting him with his paralyzing stare. Obi-wan's heart slammed hard in his chest as he struggled to remember to breathe. Any wrong move could make things so much worse. He just needed to wait it out. He knew what it was, he had suffered through it before. In the end the implant made no difference. Jinn was a prison- his prison. There was no escape.
Any second Jinn would flood his veins, turn him into something other than himself. Obi-wan felt every fiber of his body tense in wretched anticipation as Jinn knelt beside him, his eyes burning right through him.
For all the terror, all the helplessness the man stirred within him, Obi-wan felt one thing that was somehow even more horrifying than fear alone. There was a part of him, pieces really- fragments of his broken heart that seemed to belong to Jinn, whether he wanted them to or not. It didn't make sense. Of course, it didn't need to.
And they couldn't be reasoned with. Not with the memory of all the terrible things that Qui-gon had done to him. Not with the fact that Jinn had taken him and turned him something so far from what he could have been. None of it mattered. Because buried beneath the terror and pain, his heart still betrayed him. It was easier to forget about when Jinn wasn't around. It was impossible to put out of mind when he was there with Obi-wan at the center of his world, however sadistic that world tended to be.
Qui-gon reached out almost hesitantly, brushing the tips of his calloused fingers over Obi-wan's damp cheek. Reflexively Obi-wan flinched, but Jinn didn't seem to take notice or pay any mind. He could feel himself shaking, caught between terror and longing while being frozen all the same.
"Obi-wan," Qui-gon murmured softly under his breath. Obi-wan stifled a whimper. The way Jinn's wicked lips shaped around the delicate syllables of his name sent a shiver down his spine. Obi-wan fought against the manipulation, cursing his pathetic heart for wanting anything from the man at all.
But Obi-wan felt himself torn between desperation and fear as he studied Qui-gon's stare. In spite of the acrid hue that had taken there, Obi-wan didn't think he had ever seen Jinn quite so disposed. There was something more real than he had ever seen before in those eyes. Real, but just as terrifying.
Of course it was dangerous to take the man at face value, experience warned him of that. Still, there was a certain passion that resided there, dark and demanding. If that held true Obi-wan was in a world of trouble. If it was but a mask for something else beneath, he was equally damned. And Obi-wan found himself on the edge, teetering between giving up and giving in without giving a thought to the fact that both meant the same thing.
Fingertips traced lightly under Obi-wan's chin, and Jinn's eyes followed them, studying the gause that still covered Obi-wan's fresh self inflicted wound. Gentle fingers prodded where the chip lie beneath his skin, turning his stomach to stone as his chest flooded with guilt.
For a moment it nearly felt benevolent that Jinn hadn't used the implant against him, not to say he wasn't going to at all. Still, the urge to apologize was nearly insurmountable, along with a plea for Jinn to have mercy. Obi-wan felt enraged towards himself for the flash of a moment, that he ever dared try to remove the device at all. He should have given himself over to Jinn obediently. Hadn't he learned his lesson yet?
No, he couldn't apologize. He shouldn't be sorry. He shouldn't even be capable of feeling those things. Still, Obi-wan felt his jaw quiver, holding back a litany of sobbs and sorry's along with a thousand promises that he would be better for him. Obi-wan forced them back like bitter bile. They were the expression of senseless emotion. They betrayed everything he wanted to be. Everything he had tried so hard to become.
But it was cruel, because for how terrible Qui-gon was it only made his gentleness so much more endearing. However fleeting and rare those occasions were, the urge to give in to it felt overwhelming, silencing the parts of himself that knew better. So the burden of his guilt crushed him, breaking what was left of his soul into pieces. He hated what Qui-gon did to him, and simultaneously didn't know how to live without him.
Jinn's eyes moved from his bandage, stealing his gaze again. This time there was something iron there, something that told more of ownership than gentleness. The hand that gently prodded his neck wrapped around to grab a fist of hair from the base of his scalp, pulling a gasp from Obi-wan's lips. Lurching forwards Jinn chased after those lips, wrenching Obi-wan's jaw open as he pressed inside the cavern of his mouth violently.
Obi-wan felt the desperation, the low sated humm from deep within Jinn's throat and the hot tongue that claimed him. Most of all he felt the pull to be good for his Master. It was one of the simplest most basic codes of his being. Naturally Obi-wan yielded, allowing Jinn to do as he wished, as he would have regardless of if he were willing or not. But he was willing and his heart betrayed him, fluttering at the attention.
Behind the elation an ache festered deep inside his chest, burning as he felt himself torn apart. In moments such as these Obi-wan liked to pretend it could always be like this. Shifting to sit up more as Jinn pressed in on him, pulling hard on the shackles that cut deeper into his flesh.
Things could be like this.
Chained to a sleeper, cut off from the force or any ability to hold any agency over his life, much less his own body. Chemical leverage embedded beneath his skin to be used against him at a moments notice if he were to misbehave. But none of that mattered, not really. Not when Jinn was being so sweet to him.
Because the feeling of Qui-gon's lips against his own was both frustrating and debilitatingly intoxicating. In moments like those, Obi-wan felt whole. The chasm inside of him, usually hollowed out with guilt and fear, was no more. All he felt in its place was the warm sense of gratification for the knowledge he was pleasing his Master. Because Obi-wan wanted to be good. He wanted to please him. And in moments like these, if Obi-wan chose, he could even forget how much he hated himself for feeling any of it at all.
He liked the way it felt to have Jinn's tongue on his own, tasting and wanting. It was hard to resist seeing Qui-gon as his gallant rescuer in the moment. The one who had saved him from Novus, who whisked him away. But for how cruel the other had been, he knew Jinn could make him suffer so much worse.
Because he knew every inch of him, his body, mind and soul. He knew how to use it against him. He had so many times before. Then, no restraint had been exercised at all. Jinn knew how to twist his hopes and fears, his desires and dreams and weaponize them against him. Just like he was now, giving him a fleeting taste of what he always wanted so badly. To simply feel loved. Because he could never be truly loved. Not by Jinn. Perhaps not by anyone. That's not what he was for.
Obi-wan knew it wasn't real but still he pressed into Jinn, chasing another kiss as the man pulled away, running a rough thumb over his swollen lower lip. Looking back at him, Obi-wan saw Jinn's eyes grow serious.
All it took was half a heartbeat for Obi-wan's stomach to sour again as all the fervent wanting evaporated into icy fear before he could even blink. Perhaps he really was in trouble after all. Obi-wan's body tensed yet again, waiting for the worst.
"Obi-wan." Jinn said, his voice cold and rigid.
Harrowing silence pressed in on him, crushing the air from his lungs. He hung onto every second, every breath on Jinn's lips, every beat of his heart that filled the spaces in between.
A terse wrinkle formed on Jinn's brow followed by a look of clear determination. Obi-wan recognized it as the look Qui-gon gave when he came upon an idea or some other plan of action. Obi-wan had rarely seen it followed by anything good.
Jinn opened his mouth, drawing breath to speak, and Obi-wan felt himself torn between awe and fear for the man in front of him. Mostly he was lost in the hate that simmered between both of those emotions. Hate, perhaps being the most defining emotion he ever felt for the man who expertly manipulated his emotions at will. The man who lorded over him nearly his entire life.
"Be my apprentice." Jinn said, his words both a proposition and demand. Knowing him well enough, Obi-wan knew it was more the latter.
Still, the shock of the words tore right through him, erasing every thought instantaneously. The world he thought he knew crumbled under his fingertips as he struggled to understand what Jinn had just said. There was a part of him, a rather large portion, that felt elated. He felt as if his entire life had been some test that brought him to this moment. All else inside of himself was mortified that he would entertain the thought at all.
He could see in Jinn's eyes that there was no going back. And even if the blue hadn't melted into that amber glow, it would be the same. Jinn's lips turned up into a slight smile, one that Obi-wan could have sworn even reached his eyes. It only pulled him in deeper, to the point that he couldn't see anything else.
And his thoughts teetered as if he actually had a choice. He supposed it was an illusion, but still, his consent or lack thereof did matter for something, didn't it? Maybe not. If there had been one lesson he learned in life, it was that his consent didn't matter. And he knew that, deep down.
"Think of what we can achieve together." Jinn said in a breathless whisper, his eyes looking through Obi-wan into his own dark vision, before they locked onto him again. "You've never known such power. Let me show you." Qui-gon came close, trailing fingertips down the side of his jaw. "Entire worlds will be yours." Jinn said, his words heavy and slurred as his breath felt damp on his skin.
A hand slid down his chest, trailing down lower as Jinn climbed up onto the sleeper and between his legs. The man leaned down, his lips brushing against Obi-wan's, sending electric shocks through his senses. "You'll be, so powerful," He whispered, nuzzling against his neck.
The hand trailed lower, lower still, until it teased between Obi-wan's thighs. The want to be touched sent another pang of sickness through him, a jolt of panic stabbing through his heart. It was wrong, it was all wrong.
"No," Obi-wan protested weakly, putting hands against Jinn's chest to push him away.
He shouldn't have wanted anything from him. Obi-wan hated himself for knowing that he did. He wanted so much from Qui-gon, and none of it had to do with pleasure or power. He knew Jinn didn't have the capacity to give even a fraction of what he truly yearned for, but that didn't stop his broken heart from hoping.
Pushing past Obi-wan's weak resistance, Jinn began gently biting on the flesh of his shoulder. Obi-wan was fully hard now as Qui-gon began to stroke him, working small hushed gasps from him as his pleasure quickly mounted. Hands that once pushed Jinn away now gripped his shoulders hard as he tried to keep silent with little success.
He shouldn't have wanted any of it, and really he didn't think he did- not this. But Jinn knew how to give his body what it wanted, with little regard for his feelings on the matter. It was what kept him awake at night when Qui-gon would leave him, after he had taken what he wanted. It was what made Obi-wan feel empty more than anything else.
Qui-gon left a void inside of him where he ached, craving validation and love. And he would go on wanting. Sometimes Obi-wan tried to believe that if he could be good enough, obedient and subservient enough, that he could earn those things. Other times his compliance was borne of simple self preservation.
"No…" Obi-wan whimpered again, tossing his head and arching his back as he tried hard to stay his hips from twitching up into his Master's hand.
"Stop, Master please," Obi-wan cried, tears leaking out the corners of his eyes. He felt his vocal chords pull taut as he trembled, feeling overwhelmingly disgusted with himself. The hollow of a gut wrenching sobb grabbed his core tight till he couldn't breathe as he looked up at Jinn, who abruptly ceased his ministrations.
Obi-wan could already tell he had earned himself a punishment just by the look on the man's face. The cold wrath in Jinn's eyes struck him with terror, leaving him wishing he had chosen to be more compliant instead. Two rough hands pressed down on Obi-wan's shoulders, forcing him to lie on his back as Jinn loomed over him.
The memory of a thousand terrible things raced through Obi-wan's mind as Jinn stared down at him, a curl of anger twitching on his lip. "You little bitch." Jinn snarled, taking Obi-wan's jaw in hand with a firm bruising grip. The man's patience was clearly well pushed past its limit.
There was a dark hunger in Jinn's eyes, both wild and feral. Obi-wan knew the man was on the edge of losing control. He could feel the tremor in Jinn's body as he pinned him down, the pulse of chaos run rampant. For all the cruel and wicked things he had ever done to him before, Obi-wan had never seen him so close to being completely undone.
"I offer you everything. Power. Rank. Command. Pleasure." Jinn growled, spittle flying from his lips. "And what do I get?"
Obi-wan looked up at him with wide, terrified eyes. "I-I'm sorry," Obi-wan stammered breathlessly, unable to get his lungs to fully cooperate.
"I could take you right now and fuck you raw until I've had my fill." Jinn said low, palming over Obi-wan's face slopilly.
Obi-wan shook his head, cold tears streaming down the sides of his face, blurring his vision. "I'm sorry Master, please," he whimpered.
"And after I've tired of you, the guards could have their turn." Jinn said coldly.
Obi-wan's body stiffened as his breathing became shallow and rapid. He couldn't make his lips move to give words to any more pathetic pleas. Instead a pitiful whimper came from his throat instead, that quickly changed to inconsolable sobbs.
Jinn took Obi-wan's face between his hands. "You are mine, do you understand?" Qui-gon asked in a kinder voice, wiping the tears from Obi-wan's face as his sobbing slowly ceded.
Obi-wan nodded tearfully. "I will do with you as I please." Jinn declared, reaching down again for his cock, causing Obi-wan to whimper. Easily he coaxed him to the edge again. He was just a toy, and Jinn knew all his buttons.
Those feral eyes bore into his again, piercing through his soul. "It feels good when I touch you like this, doesn't it?" Jinn asked wickedly.
Obi-wan knew obedience required an answer. He drew a staggered breath through silent tears. "Y-yes," Obi-wan stuttered.
"And that pleases me." Jinn whispered. Obi-wan's body was trembling as Jinn pushed him over the edge, spilling into his Master's hand, a soft staccato cry falling from his lips as he did.
Jinn raised his hand to Obi-wan's lips. Knowing what the gesture meant Obi-wan obediently opened his mouth, licking and sucking his hand clean of his seed, not wanting to anger his Master again. Qui-gon's face was rapt with lewd fascination as he worked diligently at the task.
"You're so beautiful." Jinn said softly, mezmorized.
Obi-wan glanced up at him bashfully, feeling a blush rise up over his cheeks as his heart caught in his throat. He was exhausted by the emotional whiplash, being constantly pulled between terror and heartache to sick elation in the very next moment. Of course the very nature of being around Jinn had always been exhausting, always trying to do the right thing, trying to avoid his wrath to no avail. Winning his favor or a sweet word only ever preceded more pain. This was no different. On the other end of the warm joy he felt at his Master's praise, dread stirred inside of him, dark and looming.
Quickly pulling his cock free and wetting his hand Jinn began to roughly massage at Obi-wan's entrance, lubricating his girth as well before he started pressing in on the tight ring of muscle, not bothering to wait for Obi-wan to acclimate before pressing his way further inside. The dread Obi-wan felt in his stomach turned sour, mixed and made rancid by the pain that seared inside of him.
He tried to silence the small cry before it left him, pursing his lips shut in the very next moment, covering his mouth with his hands and cinching his eyes closed. Still the white hot pain burned relentlessly as Jinn forcefully sheathed his cock inside of him. The pressure of his Master's hips against him pulled his legs hard against his restraints to the point of breaking skin. Obi-wan could feel the warm trickle of blood on his ankles, just another part of the symphony of pain his Master wreaked on his body.
"Ah-" Jinn breathed, taking hold of each of Obi-wan's wrists and pinning them against the mattress overhead. Obi-wan tried hard not to fight against him. He tried to give in to the pain, to give his Master what he wanted. It always came down to this- survival.
He could feel Jinn's body writhing and rocking into him and the hot labored breath against his neck. He could feel the rasp of the man's tunics rubbing his skin raw and the slicing of metal into his flesh as Jinn's belt and saber pressed against him. Eventually the pain would dull as his body adjusted, it usually did.
"So… Beautiful," Jinn moaned, taking a hand and mapping over Obi-wan's face and down his neck, dragging on the gauze that covered his wounds.
It could be just like this
Being chained up and mercilessly raped, breathing through the pain because it's the only thing you know how to do. It's the only thing you've ever done to suffer through him, through all the things he's done to you.
Still Jinn fucked into him, and it did become less painful. Or perhaps he felt himself become simply more resigned- detached. Perhaps he began to understand that giving up and giving in were exactly the same thing, in the end.
Distantly he could hear Jinn coo strings of praises and vulgar slurs about how good he was for taking him so well, while his steady unforgiving tempo dissolved into an erratic disharmony, his hips bucking and twitching against Obi-wan, pressing for every inch of purchase inside of him. Hands gripped him hard all over, leaving fresh bruises where they hurt him. Ragged nails ripped into his skin, springing new trails of hot wet crimson pouring over his sickly pale skin as Jinn fucked into him harder. He could feel the blood soaked restraints on his ankles being yanked on end with each desperate thrust. In it all was the senseless chanting from Jinn's lips, both demonic and animalistic in equal measure. Obi-wan brought both arms up to cover his face. To protect himself? To escape? Both, probably. Not that it was effective in either of those efforts.
Finally Obi-wan felt Jinn's cock harden even more inside of him as he spilled deep with a drawn out sated moan. It was sickening yet relieving, knowing there would be at least some short reprieve from the further impending violence. In its absence he felt his chest ache and fill with shame.
Qui-gon kissed him gently, mumbling more words of praise that Obi-wan half listened to. It was the consolation prize for his suffering. He felt raw and used. His body ached terribly from being fucked so brutally, even with the scant lubrication Jinn had bothered with.
"My Obi-wan," Jinn whispered before he pressed another kiss on his lips, his tongue exploring him more delicately this time. Obi-wan reciprocated, feeling the core of his soul empty out while his heart turned to ash. Jinn still lingered inside of him, his flagging girth hardening again as he gently rocked into him.
Jinn pulled away from his lips, still softly pulsing his hips against him. His eyes scoured his body posessively as he ran a finger gently over one of the crimson gouges he had carved into his flesh. Slowly and surely, Obi-wan felt pleasure welling inside of him. He resented it and resigned to it at the same time. His life wasn't his to live. His body wasn't his to own, nothing inside of him was. Jinn took everything.
Softly Qui-gon pressed another feather light kiss onto his lips, and Obi-wan's world turned upside down.
"I love you." Qui-gon whispered, peering into Obi-wan's despondent eyes. "Maybe not how any other man would, but in the only way I know how."
Obi-wan shook his head, swallowing years of grief and tears and even more heartache. "No." Obi-wan said unsteadily, his breath catching. It couldn't be true. Not after all the years of pain and suffering, the torture that even the most depraved mind couldn't match.
But at the same time, his heart sang. Finally. Finally after everything, he had earned it. He was obedient enough, submissive enough, worthy of love. But this wasn't love, was it? But he loved his Master, and he hated him even more. He hated him for saying the words that he always wanted to hear so badly. Because saying them didn't make them true.
Qui-gon's would-be love was a blaster pressed firmly against his skull, or the burning edge of a saber angled to pierce his heart. It was the thing that would damn him and trap him for the rest of his life. What could he do to escape it when his heart finally felt the vindication it had been waiting for, ever since Jinn had laid hands on him all those years ago? Finally a reason for all of the pain and suffering. So why did it only make him hurt so much worse?
"It's not true," Obi-wan begged.
"I do. I swear." Jinn vowed, something begging behind his wicked eyes.
"You… you don't-" love me, how could you possibly love me? "You…" hurt me. It's all you've ever done. Because that's what i'm for.
The pulsing of his hips deepened to slow purposeful thrusts, exactly what Obi-wan's body wanted. "I love you, and I am never letting you go ever again," Jinn whispered low in his ear, wrapping his arms around Obi-wan's shoulders to hold him steady him.
"No," Obi-wan panted, "Please," he begged, grabbing fist fulls of Qui-gon's tunic in his hands. The waves of pleasure Jinn worked through him proved frustratingly distracting, betraying him and his will.
"You need me Obi-wan," Jinn said in a husky voice. "You need me, and you know it."
Jinn's hips dragged against him, taking a faster tempo as his own orgasm welled again. Not brutal as he had been before, but ragged and wanting. "You need this." Jinn grunted. "Just like I need you."
"Stop, please," Obi-wan whimpered.
"Shhh," Jinn whispered, putting a hand to cover Obi-wan's mouth. He shook his head frantically against him, yanked hard on his restraints, nearly breaking his ankles in the process.
"You don't have to believe me now, but I do," Qui-gon spoke softly in his ear, pushing pleasure onto him as he had so many times before. "I love you."
Obi-wan protested but the grip Jinn held over his mouth, but he only clamped down harder in response.
If you love me, you wouldn't hurt me. You would stop. If you loved me, Obi-wan thought as loudly as he could, knowing Jinn could hear every word.
It could be like this. And it would be, forever. Tortured by a word, both a promise and a curse but more a lie than anything else. Resolution gripped his heart- the tattered crumbled remains of it- and held it together the best it could. He would need every last drop of tenacity to carry him through. It was both the beginning and the end for him, after all. His heart- what scraps that were left of it, the parts of it that hadn't died yet over the years. So much of him already had, he realized. How hadn't he seen it before?
He was a fragment of his potential, broken down, fashioned into something he never wanted. But this was it, wasn't it? This was all he was. All he had left. And he would kill that, too- the only part of himself that could feel. The part of himself that wanted to accept the mockery of love that Jinn had to offer. The part of himself that believed that it was all he deserved. More than he deserved.
He had to kill it.
He had to kill him.
Obi-wan's hand thrust forward taking hold of Jinn's saber, thumbing the ignition without a moment's hesitation. The blade crackled to life piercing Qui-gon straight through where his heart would have been, if he did indeed have one. Amber eyes stared back at him, the last light simmering betrayal in its dying spark. Obi-wan stared back, speechless, feeling himself die as amber bled to gray, bled to black. The last breath from the man's wicked lips fell cool on his neck, and Obi-wan felt himself turn to ice as well.
He was cold, so cold- shaking. He didn't think he could ever stop shaking.
"No," Obi-wan whispered, putting hands on Jinn's face, feeling the stiffening flesh cool under his hands. Obi-wan's chest sank in horror- true horror. Nothing he had ever felt amounted to the terror he felt flooding his veins. He had done it- he killed his Master.
What… have I done?!
Obi-wan choked and gasped, the start of a string of sobs ringing out as Jinn's body shifted off of him, lying lifelessly beside him where he still lay naked, bloody, battered and chained. Obi-wan cast his arms around Jinn's corpse, feeling grief and bitter regret burn on the walls of the chasm that rested inside of him. Sobbs turned to screams as he cried into Jinn's robes, wet tears falling where the dried blood had crusted.
Screams and gut wrenching sobs wrung his core raw, aching and bleeding from the inside out.
Obi-wan didn't hear the running footsteps that neared the small room from the hall outside. His world was falling apart. It felt like he was dying.
He was
And he did it himself. The worst part was, he hated himself for it more than anything else.
"I'm sorry Master, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Obi-wan cried, burying his face in Jinn's chest. "Come back, please," he begged, knowing all too well that death was finite. But still he cried, begging and pleading.
"Obi-wan?" a voice said hesitantly, nearing his bedside. He only cried harder, huddling into Jinn's chest.
"Oh stars, what did he do to you?" Vos whispered, seeing Obi-wan's bloodied ankles, his naked body huddled against Jinn's lifeless form. "Monster."
Yes, I'm the monster. Obi-wan thought, his sobbs making him nauseous.
Vos fiddled with his communicator, frantically keying in Master Yoda's frequency. When the little green Jedi answered, silence hung on his end.
"Master. I've found him. I've found both of them." Vos said, feeling rather unwell at the sight.
Master Yoda prattled off something, Obi-wan hadn't caught all the words. His world had stopped. All he remembered was screaming and crying as Vos dragged him away from the sleeper, fighting against him desperately to stay with Jinn.
I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry
Obi-wan felt his lips form the words, over and over, long after Vos had helped clothe him and put him safely on the next republic transport.
Somewhere along the way he saw Vos's face in his field of vision, his warm eyes looking into his own with a measure of indirect fear and horror. He wasn't scared of Obi-wan, he was scared of what had happened to him. Scared to touch him, even. Afraid to find out first hand what he had been through. He had probably already seen so much. Too much. For a moment Obi-wan felt sorry for him. That was the moment his mind touched reality again.
"There you are." Vos said, slight relief in his voice.
Obi-wan looked back at him, empty inside. There was nothing left. Everything that could feel had been killed. Most of it by Jinn. The last of it, he had done himself. Was it worth it? He still didn't know.
"We found Anakin." Vos said, pulling Obi-wan even more to the moment.
"Is Anakin alright?" Obi-wan bit out, his voice cracking through pained vocal chords. They had been strained by all the screaming. But that didn't matter. The memory of Anakin, how could he have forgotten?
"He's unconscious, but his vitals are strong. No telling when he'll wake up, though. When he does, he's going to need you at your best." Vos said firmly.
"I have nothing to give that boy." Obi-wan said, a tremor in his voice.
"The council seems to see things a bit differently." Vos said in a satisfied voice. "Someone is going to need to train him. After you've made a full recovery, that will be you. I'll take care of him until then. But only until then."
Obi-wan broke again. "I'm not what you think I am. I'm nothing." Obi-wan cried, tears stinging his reddened eyes.
"You're not what you think you are." Vos insisted, his eyes glossing over as well. "You're not a slave. You're a Jedi. You're my brother."