A/N: Hey, guys. Sorry this chapter took so long. For some reason I had a really hard time writing this one. Hopefully it will go a little easier, now, but don't be shocked if it takes a litle longer than you're used to. (Sorry!)

Chapter 15: Anchored and Unsettled

Qui-Gon watched carefully as Dooku worked in his mind, touching this and that with the delicacy of a surgeon, gently pushing through the extraneous to reach the essential. Untrained as he was in the art of mind manipulation, Qui-Gon could see that his old teacher was taking care not to disturb anything that he didn't have to, to finish this task as efficiently as possible.

He memorized everything the Jedi did, taking it in and making it a part of himself. It wasn't terribly difficult, it seemed—just complicated and precise. He ought to be able to duplicate the process without too much trouble.

Hmm, you don't have to try so hard, you know, Dooku said. He seemed to be studying the evidence of past stress on the bright, pulsing cord. You were trying desperately to grasp it at one point, tightening your grip when it slid away, correct?

Yes, Qui-Gon said, and felt a residual spike of fear, the echo of time gone, remembering how desperately he had searched for the missing boy, thick despair welling up when the connection fled from his mental touch, and his enormous, overwhelming relief when he managed to find Obi-Wan despite it all. It was a . . . difficult time.

Should the situation arise again, remain calm, Dooku instructed, again the imperious lecturer, pouring out his knowledge and demanding that the listener receive his teaching. Relax and let the bond flow back where it belongs. Pushing too hard will simply send it farther away.

I will, Qui-Gon said humbly. Truly, he should have realized this himself. The Force never responded to . . . well, to force. This was a world of reaction, of listening, receiving, allowing, not one of action—demanding, coercing, pulling. At least, the light side wasn't.

Now, let's draw this further into your mind. Gently now.

Together they brought the bond inward and anchored it deeper in his psyche, where nothing could ever root it out. Only Qui-Gon himself would be able to remove it, and that only with a great deal of pain and effort. And he did not intend to do so. Not ever.

When Obi-Wan touched the anchor with a gentle finger of the Force, adding his own strength to cement it in place, Qui-Gon felt it keenly and brilliantly, a flush of warmth and joy, moonlight on the water, sun in the eyes. The bond was fully alive now, and more than just its presence, Qui-Gon felt through it. Felt the boy at the other end, the purity of his young spirit, the strength of his presence in the larger Force. It wasn't yet complete—the bond wasn't anchored in Obi-Wan's mind yet—but the difference was overwhelming.

These smudges are a bit disturbing, though, Dooku mused, studying the cord more closely, the dark blotches that had bothered Qui-Gon as soon as he noticed them. They were lighter and less frequent than before, but still present. Like fading bruises, they spoke of past pain. They mean that something is wrong with your bondmate—something is clouding his spirit.

Obi-Wan's sense was abruptly stained with embarrassment. I'm sorry.

Not your fault, Qui-Gon said instantly, trying to envelope the suddenly-trembling mental presence with all the warmth and acceptance that was within him, which was quite a bit. You have been hurt. We will find healing.

He felt the boy relax, responding with an echo of warmth.

Everything is going to be all right.

Qui-Gon did not add the words I promise, but the implication was there. And he felt Obi-Wan's relief.

Dooku seemed oblivious to the interplay. We're finished here. Now we only need to repeat the procedure in the boy's mind.

Obi-Wan did not shrink, did not flinch, and did not protest, but he didn't need to. Qui-Gon already knew.

I will do it, he said. Obi-Wan will help me. Thank you for showing us how, Master Dooku.

For a moment there was nothing. Then came the impression of a mental shrug. As you wish. It will be good practice for you, if want to continue learning how to affect the mind.

We'd better surface soon, Qui-Gon said, humor stealing into his voice. Julune will be home soon.

Point taken.

They rose swiftly, Qui-Gon taking only a moment to replace his mental shields. Even with them at full power, though, Obi-Wan would never be fully closed out of his mind—he could see that already. And he was well pleased.

Qui-Gon opened his physical eyes a fraction after the others, and the first sight that met them was Obi-Wan drooping, eyes weary and smudged, exhausted by the afternoon's exertions. Without conscious thought, he used the grip he still had on the boy's hands to pull him closer and prop him against his side, circling his shoulders with one arm. Obi-Wan released a nearly-silent sigh and sagged into his support, and Qui-Gon could feel him drifting in the nowhere-land between sleep and waking.

"It's all right," he murmured. "Sleep. We'll finish this when you're rested."

Obi-Wan struggled for only a moment, then let himself fade off. It was only a very light sleep, one thin layer of dream between he and the conscious world, but it would help. Qui-Gon settled the boy's head a little more firmly against his shoulder, then looked up to meet the eyes of the Jedi who sat across from them, studying him with an expression that the younger man could not immediately identify.

Dooku just looked at him for a moment. Then he observed quietly, "You will be a good father, Qui-Gon Jinn. No . . ." He shook his head gently. "You already are."

Qui-Gon blinked, at last understanding the emotion displayed so softly in the Jedi's face. Tenderness. He had never seen that in his old teacher before. With a faint sense of wonder, he looked back down at the pale face nestled against his shoulder. "You truly think so?"

"I know so. A bit of advice, though . . ."

He raised his head to meet Dooku's eyes. His advice was usually good. "Yes?"

"Don't hold back. I've seen your hesitation with him, the moment before you begin to reach out, to touch. You don't want to frighten him. Understandable—he has been badly hurt and he is frightened of much, not least his own power, these visions he has been cursed with. But he is not frightened of you. More . . . he yearns to be close to you. I don't need a bond with the boy to see this, nor even a great deal of empathy. It's quite obvious. Whatever you've been holding back until now . . . don't."

Qui-Gon drew in a deep breath and let it out, puffing out his cheeks as it went. "It's just . . . too much is unsettled. Force knows that I want to keep him, to be a father to him as you suggest. And Julune would be quite happy with it, too. We've already discussed it. But the Jedi still have a claim on him—or at least the Agri-Corps does. They want him to go back and try again once he's recovered."

Dooku frowned. "Try again?"

"Surely you are aware of how this works." Qui-Gon stared at the Jedi blankly. "Obi-Wan wasn't chosen as a Padawan, so he was sent here to Bandomeer to work with the Agri-Corps. He didn't do well with it. He was depressed and didn't eat, and his visions kept him from sleeping. Naturally he became ill."

The older man's frown deepened, even darkened. "Naturally," he echoed in a mutter. "His life was effectively ended at the tender age of thirteen. No wonder he was depressed."

"Twelve," Qui-Gon said absently, again watching Obi-Wan's still face, the gentle rise and fall of his breath, feeling the pulse of life. "He's still twelve years old. Won't be thirteen for a couple of weeks."

Energy seemed to crackle around Dooku, a storm of negative lightning, but he held back in respect for the sleeping boy. "Even more outrageous. They denied him even that slender chance."

"Perhaps they expected Knight Xanatos to take him—he accompanied the boy to Bandomeer, with the Jedi supply shuttle. They met some sort of adventure on the way, something with pirates. Obi-Wan hasn't told me the full story yet. But Xanatos still refused him."

"The more fool he."

Qui-Gon didn't argue. For a time they sat in silence, letting the Force settle around them, peace seeping into their bones. Qui-Gon considered moving the boy to the couch, but was afraid that even the slightest movement would wake him. He was aware that Dooku was thinking deeply, and did not interrupt.

At last Dooku shook himself out of his musing and met Qui-Gon's eyes again. "It's time for me to leave. I shouldn't have stayed so long."

He started to rise, and Qui-Gon felt a prick of urgency. "Wait . . . are you referring to this house, or Bandomeer?"

Dooku smiled, somewhat nostalgically, and sat back down. "I should have known I wouldn't be able to sneak away from you. Yes, I mean Bandomeer. I was due back at Coruscant today—if I don't contact the Temple soon, they'll assume something has gone wrong. It's better if I send the message from space."

"Surely they won't fault you for following the will of the Force?"

The Jedi shrugged, a bitter twist of a smile appearing on his lips. "You never know, these days. Some in the Order care more for schedules, for keeping the Senate satisfied, than they do for what they call 'whims of the unruly mind.'"

Qui-Gon shook his head. "I can see why you are unhappy with the current state of affairs."

"Indeed." A brief pause, then Dooku seemed to overcome some sort of inertia, plunging onward. "It was a pleasure to see you, Qui-Gon, if only for a short time. I hope all continues to go well with you."

"Thank you. And with you as well. Don't wait another ten years to contact me again."

"On that, I give you my word."

Dooku rose smoothly and fetched his cloak. Qui-Gon watched him so intently that for a moment he wasn't aware of the stirring against his shoulder, but then Obi-Wan raised his head, blinking, and started to struggle out of Qui-Gon's arm. "Wait . . ."

"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon gripped his elbow, feeling the weakness of sleep thrumming through the thin body. "What's wrong?"

"Just . . . a moment." Obi-Wan staggered to his feet, trying to slip away from Qui-Gon's hand, but the man didn't let him. He rose as well, maintaining his hold on the slender arm.

Dooku had paused to stare at them, eyebrows furrowed. Obi-Wan took a step closer to the man, looking earnestly up into his face. His voice was rough with sleep, but firm and strong, despite his youth. "I need . . . I need to talk to you. You have to promise me something."

"Must I?" Dooku said with faint surprise. He hesitated for a moment, then bent his proud head to look the child more fully in the eye. His voice was as gentle as Qui-Gon had ever heard it. "What is it, young one?"

"You have to . . . you have to swear . . . will you swear?" Uncertainty entered the young tone at the last, and Obi-Wan would have wavered without Qui-Gon's hand on his elbow.

Something unidentifiable passed through Dooku's dark eyes, so like the deep midnight of a desert planet, far from the brilliant stars of the Core. After a moment, he nodded, and Qui-Gon marveled that he would do this without even knowing what he was agreeing to. "Yes. I will swear."

"Swear to me . . . swear to Qui-Gon, to, to everything . . . that you will stay with the light. That you will not touch the dark. Do you swear?" Obi-Wan's trembling hands reached out as if to grab Dooku's tunic, but stopped a bare centimeter away from the dark fabric. It wasn't as if he was afraid to touch him, but more that he wanted Dooku to make the decision on his own, without further coercion. "Do you?"

"Yes." Dooku said gravely. "I swear. I swear it, child. I will not touch the dark."

"Oh. Good." Obi-Wan stepped back, and let Qui-Gon push him over to the couch and set him down. He blinked up at the man standing by the door, pale face both bewildered and relieved. It was if he hadn't known quite what he was doing, and now that it was over, he wondered what had happened. But the relief was brilliant, shining like those Core stars that had seemed so distant from the Jedi Master. "Good."

Dooku paused for a moment longer, his hand on the door. Then he nodded solemnly to Qui-Gon, and looked at the boy, including them both in his farewell. "May the Force be with you."

"And with you," Qui-Gon said softly, still feeling faintly shaken by what had just passed.

Dooku nodded once again, and departed.