Alpha & Omega:
I. The Hunter

Angyl

7/28/99

Disclaimer: These two handsome men belong to George Lucas, the events surrounding them are mine. *g*

"Master, I'm afraid I can't repair the damage. We're going to have to make an emergency landing."

I hear the slightest shading of alarm in Obi-Wan's tightly controlled voice. To anyone else he would sound calm and collected, his face perfectly neutral. Even with no one on board the shuttle but the two of us, he tries to bury his feelings. It doesn't work, however, for I can still hear the concern. I'm the only one who can, so well do I know this boy, this man I call Padawan.

"I understand, Padawan; it's only through your abilities that we have managed to make it this far. Most of the planets in this sector are habitable. Choose the closest one and land. Republic relays will pass on our distress signal. We shall be picked up eventually." I project an air of serenity I don't quite feel.

These planets are backwater, primitive places on the outer rim. For the most part they are unexplored. Force knows what we may run into down on the surface - anything from blaster-happy smugglers to hostile natives. I am loathe to burden Obi-Wan with my speculations though. Not because he's delicate and cannot handle it; that is so far from the truth it's ludicrous.

At twenty-three Obi-Wan is strong, self-sufficient and courageous. I sometimes think he should be the teacher, so often do I rely and lean on his strength of character and will these days. In fact, Obi-Wan's training is almost complete except for a little more seasoning, a little more work on living in the now and being mindful of the living Force.

No, his so-called 'delicacy' is not the reason I do not wish to trouble Obi-Wan. Truthfully, my reason is a more selfish one. I react - strongly - to Obi-Wan's emotional state. If he can stay calm and focused, I won't have the overwhelming urge to smother and protect him. Something he would not thank me for doing.

Obi-Wan is precious to me, more precious than he could possibly know. In that sense he is fragile and delicate - for he is the one I love, the one I would pledge myself to for all eternity. The one I would die for if need be.

Obi-Wan's elegant voice interrupts my introspection.

"Here, Master, the planet of Eira. It is oxygen-rich, and has a temperate climate. Everything seems to indicate it will be compatible to all humanoid needs." He is so quick, so wise.

"There has even been some contact made with indigenous tribes by archeologists studying this sector's development. They seem to be friendly, if a bit primitive." How I could have nearly denied myself the joy of his presence in my life, I will never know.

"Well done, Obi-Wan. Find a place to land near the most recently contacted tribe. We will make contact with them only if necessary," I reply, watching him skillfully maneuver the shuttle towards the planet's surface.

These past few weeks have bordered on the fantastic. Even I find the events that have taken place hard to believe sometimes. It has been almost a month since we sent out the distress signal, but still no sign of being recovered. If Obi-Wan and I didn't have each other to count on, I feel this would have been much harder to endure.

We landed safely on the planet, in a small forest clearing about three standard miles from the village. We expected the area to be devoid of humanoid life. We were wrong. Waiting just beyond the tree line were a handful of the Triethan. Their welcoming party consisted of the village elders and some of the warriors.

Our arrival had been predicted, or so we were told. Yet another surprise for us - they spoke Standard. It also seems that these people have a small ability over the Force. Faint - just enough to allow them to see the future - see our arrival. They took us in, treated us like long lost kin and made no demands, just wished our companionship and our help should we wish to give it.

We settled into the routine of the village, helping where we could. Learning what we could. We always had an audience when Obi-Wan and I practiced our katas and our lightsaber drills in the clearing beside the village. It was because of this that the tribal elders asked us our advice in a serious matter. They did not ask our help, but our opinion.

It seemed the villagers were being preyed upon by a 'demon'. It would attack indiscriminately, and what was left of the victim was not pleasant. I could not help but to offer Obi-Wan's and my assistance in capturing the creature. The village warriors gratefully accepted. So Obi-Wan and I went hunting.

Using the Force to guide us, we worked as we fought and trained - in complete unison of thought and movement - and tracked the so-called 'demon' to its lair and found an animal similar to a tybar, which did not appear to be indigenous to Eira. It was probably left behind by smugglers or pirates or some other spacefaring group, and it had grown up feral. It was now old and sick, preying on those weaker than itself.

It was also dying. Painfully. Being eaten alive by its illness. So Obi-Wan and I did the only thing we could. We gave it a merciful end... and were proclaimed heroes to be inducted as Triethan warriors and members of the tribe.

Today is the last day of the celebrations. Tonight Obi-Wan and I are to be made brothers of the of the tribe, and warriors in our own right. The induction has been a weeklong event with us proving our worth to the tribe through various displays of skill and prowess. Easy to do when one is a Jedi. An important part of the ritual has involved the drinking of a tribal concoction meant to cleanse the spirit. A quick analysis indicated it would not be poisonous to us, so I felt Obi-Wan and I should not insult our hosts by refusing to take the brew.

It seems to have affected us rather strangely, though. I've found it increasingly difficult to maintain my mental barriers, and Obi-Wan has said much the same. I've begun to suspect that the combination of local herbs and plant extracts acts as a kind of biological disruptor device - blocking our ability to raise our mental shields. This concerns me as there are some things that I am unwilling to let Obi-Wan know - such as my intense desire for him. I have also found myself feeling much more out of control, aggressive. Possessive of my Obi-Wan. This troubles me. Could this be yet another side effect of the drink, and if so, what is it doing to Obi-Wan?

"Is there a problem, Master?" Obi-Wan asks, perplexed. We are in our hut, preparing for the night's ceremony and celebration by meditating and fasting - the Jedi version of prayer.

"No, Padawan - why do you ask?"

"You have been looking at me rather strangely. Does this have something to do with the difficulty we are having maintaining our shields?" he continues. The cracks must be widening.

I can sense his curiosity and concern, which means he may be sensing my discomfort at my emotional state. "We need only drink the concoction once more at the acceptance ceremony, Obi-Wan. Whatever is causing this should be out of our systems in a day - two at the most. We'll be fine." I try to project an air of serenity, but by the furrowing of Obi-Wan's brows I assume that I have failed. He looks so... adorable when he worries like that. My desire for him seems to be increasing as well, or perhaps it is the strength to resist my desire that is fading.

"Yes, Master." I have to fight to control the shudder of pure desire that races through me. Force above, I love how he says that phrase. Subservient and deferential yet defiant, with a touch of dry humor. Ever the contradiction, even in his speech patterns, is my Obi-Wan.

When did I start calling him that? - my Obi-Wan. Another sign of my possessiveness. The way some of the village girls, not to mention the young men, look at him makes my teeth clench with barely suppressed anger. I want to claim him, mark him as mine. As my mate.

Gods above, I want him. I've denied myself for so long, buried those feelings deep down. I would have acknowledged them when Obi-Wan became a Knight, for then we would be equals instead of Master and Padawan. Instead, this thrice-damned potion has eroded my self-constraint to the point where its collapse is imminent. How I want him. More though, I want to take him as my life-bonded. I want Obi-Wan forever.

I only pray that I can shore up my crumbling reserves of willpower long enough for the elixir to burn itself out of my body.

I can feel the cleansing draught coursing through my system, my mind, attacking what shreds of self-preservation I have left. Too much... the last cup was too much. My shields are on the verge of shattering, my control frayed to the point of nothingness. Obi-Wan's shields have already collapsed entirely. I have been avoiding reaching out to him or being near him in order to give him some modicum of privacy. No, not just to give him privacy, but to shield myself from temptation as well. How tempting it is to dip into his mind, read his unguarded thoughts - find out just how he perceives me, what he feels for me.

The ceremony is over and the celebration fire ablaze in the central pit of the meeting lodge. A sudden summer storm is raging without. Lightening flashes. The rain lashes the building in the fury of nature while within the building alcoholic spirits, conversation and laughter flow freely. Obi-Wan's hair glows copper-gold in the light. The tribal garb of skintight animal hide breeches and a form hugging coarse woven shirt, open to his navel, cling lovingly to his muscular frame. How beautiful my Obi-Wan is. How sensual and delicious.

I have seen Obi-Wan's nude body before. Modesty between us has always been unnecessary. Now, however, I find myself noticing the nuances of his form that I had willed myself not to notice before. The sparse covering of burnished gold hair on a strong chest. Lean arms full of whipcord strength. A taut abdomen, rippling with well-defined muscles. I dare not look lower else my control will abandon me all together.

Obi-Wan glances across the room at me, a wicked glint in those sorcerous eyes, and smiles that half smile of his - the one that makes my gut clench with lust. I want him. I want my mate.

A young woman pulls him into the circle of people dancing around the fire and rage engulfs me. How dare she touch Obi-Wan - he is mine! Obi-Wan throws his head back in laughter, the elegant column of throat bared for all to see. That is the first place I will mark him, on that lovely expanse of glistening flesh.

I can no longer keep from brushing against his thoughts, and when I do, my control snaps - painfully. Desire radiates from him - waves of lust and longing. For me.

Oh, Obi-Wan, what a dangerous position you've placed yourself in. I am not in control. Not even the training I hold so sacred can aid you. The restraints of civilization are gone, my love, and you shall be the one to reap the whirlwind of my need.

I watch him sway to the primitive beat of tribal drums as they intermingle with the ground shaking thunder. Obi-Wan moves so sensually, so brazenly. Our eyes lock. You seem startled, Obi-Wan. Am I not what you expected to see? You've been baiting the wild beast of my lust all night, beloved. Keep it up and that beast will devour you.

I sense Obi-Wan's attempt to resurrect his shields in order to block me out. He breaks away from the dancing and moves towards the door. Do you think you can escape me, my love? Not possible. I know you too well - your thoughts, your instincts. The sight, sound and scent of you. You cannot escape me, Obi-Wan. I won't let you. I need you too much.

Obi-Wan tries to slip by a group of young men around his age as he makes his way to the exit, but alcohol has made one of them brave. The young man wraps his arms around Obi-Wan and kisses his sweet mouth. A red haze fills me as the last vestiges of restraint are ripped away. How dare that pup place his hands on my mate, take my Obi-Wan's mouth like that?

Obi-Wan is mine! He has belonged to me since the day on Bandomeer when I chose him to be my Padawan. I have merely been waiting for him to reach adulthood and the age of consent. Waiting for him to take his Trials. Even though he reached that age three years ago, still I restrained myself - waited. I needed to know how he felt, but now I do. And the Trials are close enough so as not to be important in this. Obi-Wan is well and truly my other half. All that remains is the acknowledgement... and by all that's sacred I will wait no longer. I will claim my mate. Now!

I am across the room and ripping him out of the upstart's arms before I can finish my thoughts. Outside, into the storm I pull him, then into our hut. We are soaked to the bone, but neither of us care.

"What in the hells of the Sith has gotten into you, Qui-Gon?" Obi-Wan demands, his anger making him careless with words.

"Be careful, Obi-Wan. Be very careful," I warn. The beast within me is barely leashed. My anger has loosed its chain. If Obi-Wan defies me, I will not be able to control it any longer. "Don't you understand that you are mine? How dare you let that pup touch you!" I growl, enraged.

I feel Obi-Wan's temper spark. His eyes flare and the breath catches in his throat as it closes under his fury. Oh, that luscious throat.

"I know exactly who I belong to, Master Qui-Gon. I belong to myself, and to whomever I choose to share myself with. You are my teacher, nothing more - by your own choice!" Obi-Wan snarls.

A feral smile spreads over my face. Oh that was a foolish thing to do, beloved. Now I shall have to teach you just who has the right to share you. No one!

I am before Obi-Wan in two strides, pushing him back against the wall - pushing myself against his wanton body. Rubbing my straining cock against that stomach I admired earlier. My mouth claims his - hard. I ravish that wonderfully sweet, succulent mouth, bruising its tenderness with my onslaught. I can feel Obi-Wan's hands pushing against my chest, but I have him pinned to the wall. A moan escapes him, and I swallow it greedily. Animalistic noises of passion emerge from my throat. Obi-Wan softens against me. Thinking I have bent him to my will, I relax my hold.

In a quick move I find myself shoved away and recover in time to watch him sprint into the night.

So, Obi-Wan wishes to play, does he? Very well, my love. I shall join in the chase. I will find you, my Obi-Wan... and when I do, you will surrender to me.

I stalk out into the storm, casting my mind outwards. I can sense Obi-Wan - an incandescent light in the darkness of the night.

I begin to hunt.

End

  since 02-17-07

 

Back to Angyl's page      Back to the Fiction page     Back to the TPM Fiction page

Tell me about any broken links

Email Angyl

HOME