It was a little less than two hours until morning chime hours, the division between Dark and Light. Qui-Gon had always been an early riser, much to his padawan's chagrin. Since arriving on Biala, he found himself enjoying the peace that came at the end of the Dark. Most of the revelers would have headed home by now, so the streets, the palace, the gardens were quiet and deserted.

He quickened his step into the orchard area. Ishara would be waiting for him. She and her master, Rees Toth arrived two weeks before them on Biala as the primary ambassadors. Rees requested assistance, which brought Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. At her request and with the approval of her master, Qui-Gon worked with her on her saber technique during their stay on the planet. She had a natural affinity in the defensive arts, and enjoyed learning new techniques from different swordmasters. This was the first time they were able to really work one-on-one without distraction and he quite enjoyed it. She had a fire and spirit that reminded him of his apprentice. Hearing her warming up in the grove ahead, he shook his head. Ben was a fool for leaving her. That she wished to remain friends with him was a blessing. He'd already ended the other relationship. Qui-Gon wondered how long it would take for his padawan to come to his senses about this one.

"Master Qui-Gon, you look a bit tired. Are you up for this?" She was still wearing her costume from the Dark revels, a black sleeveless top that covered her front, leaving her back bare, and skirt slit to the waist along both legs that allowed teasing flashes of skin. Coupled with her high black boots, traditional saber and short handled saber made specifically for this mission, she looked an exotic assassin. The outfit was another gift from the prince, one of many she had received during her stay here.

"Of course I am, Ishara," he answered with mock indignation. "This is good practice for me. It is very different from dueling against Obi-Wan."

She grinned, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "I would think so, since he is so much better than me." She extended her blade, taking up her defensive posture.

"Not by much, and you have skills he lacks." He threw off the black coat he wore and took his stance. In black trousers, a loose gray shirt and boots, he looked every bit as formidable as her master. Extending his own saber, he said quietly, "Begin."

The first battle lasted several minutes. She attacked, using her size to get under his guard. He leapt away at the last minute, then lunged, sweeping a wide arc with his blade to drive her backwards. Obi-Wan's reach was wider than hers, he noted the first time they trained, and he adapted his technique accordingly. She, on the other hand, was used to training against opponents larger than her and was able to determine his weaker points quickly.

He swept her feet out from under her, knocking her to the ground gasping. She lay sprawled in the leaves, breathing deeply. "One point, mine," he said smiling down on her.

"Yes Master," she replied, in husky tones that sent a chill through him. He shook off the feeling, but still felt a bit off balance. He studied her then, watching her brush the leaves off her skin, shaking them from her hair. Gods, he thought, why am I thinking these thoughts about my friend's apprentice? Her voice is an intoxicant. Does she know...

"Ready?" she asked him, taking her stance.

He nodded, bringing himself back to the present. "Begin." This time she went on the offensive, striking quickly to move into his circle. He drove her back temporarily, impressed at her quick change of strategy. She attacked again, switching to a one-handed grip. Qui-Gon expected a force wave and prepared his defense. Therefore he was surprised when he found himself at swordpoint. She'd deflected him high as expected with one hand, then extended her other arm, her short sword drawn and now at his neck.

"One point mine, Master," she said in triumph, the same husky tones. He suppressed a soft moan as her voice carried in the morning air.

He smiled then and nodded. "Yes padawan. Though I don't think using the second blade was very fair."

She laughed, "I've been taught to use any tools at my disposal, Master." Again the same tone, the same shiver, now turning to heat. Did she know?

He cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should continue this another time," he said.

She cocked her head at him in surprise. Then, in the same tones as before, "As you wish Master." She powered down the short sword and threw it onto her cloak near the base of one of the trees. He turned to leave and took a few strides before he realized she wasn't following him. He turned back and saw her beginning a kata, eyes closed, her face a study in concentration. He watched her, mesmerized as she began the slow intricate movements with her saber, stretching her arms gracefully, extending her legs softly, precisely. She turned slowly, offering an enticing view of her back partially veiled by her long black hair. He prayed his mental shields kept his ungentlemanly thoughts hidden. Leaning on a nearby tree, he studied her movements carefully, slightly off-balance from the heat he felt in his chest.

What's happening to me, she thought to herself. When he turned, part of her wanted to go with him, if only to listen to him a little longer. She had asked to train with him, not quite realizing the effect he would have on her. His voice was her undoing. Gods, what am I thinking, she chided herself, I'm just a padawan, I shouldn't be having these thoughts. She prayed he didn't know how he affected her, how he pushed her off balance, wondering...

Why hadn't she stopped this earlier, she asked herself again. It seemed like a harmless request before, a way to take her mind off his apprentice, and her unresolved feelings for him. But she melted a little whenever Qui-Gon spoke to her during these sessions. He never affected her like this before. Now. The way he said her name felt like a caress, when he called her 'padawan' in velvet soft tones. She cursed herself again as a fool. He was her love's master. No, former lover's master. Drawing deeper into her center, she hoped he hadn't read these base thoughts. She willed herself to move, hoping the kata would calm her racing heart.

"Ishara." She snapped out of her meditation, standing stiffly, pulse racing. He hadn't walked away; he was there, watching her. She felt the color rise in her cheeks.

"Yes Master." He tried to stop himself, shaken by her voice again. He steeled himself. You are a Jedi Master, Jinn. You will control yourself.

"Your alignment was off in that set." He moved into her circle. "Find your center."

She took the starting stance. "Yes Master." She turned hips slightly, shoulders down, weapon extended.

"Begin." She started her movement slowly, willing her shaking body to obey. She was through the first two parts of the kata when his hand was on her wrists and on her lower back, guiding her motion slowly. "Here, your alignment should be just so." She bit her lip to keep from fainting at his touch, her body tight as a bowstring. Gods help me.

Her scent was intoxicating, her skin so warm beneath his hands. Her hair barely brushed the back of his hand, teasing him with a butterfly caress. "Yes, Master," she whispered, jolting him again. She's too young, too lovely.

He broke contact quickly, breathing deeply, drawing in his shaky remnants of control. I should go, he thought. I should walk away now before... "Again."

"Yes master." She started again, carefully following his instruction. Concentrate, she told herself, not another mistake. He's too experienced; your master's friend. Ben's master. Breathe, concentrate, control yourself else...

She made it halfway through before her body betrayed her. She faltered again, shaking badly, so overcome by his very presence. He stood behind her then, breathing deeply in an effort to calm himself, fighting the need to wrap his arms around her slim waist. Placing his hand on her hips, he guided her movement again. "Like this. You're throwing yourself off balance." You and me both...

She nearly gasped as he touched her again, his thumbs lightly pressing against the small of her back. Focus Kender, she scolded herself. Focus damn it. "Yes Master." She moved again, under his guidance, softly brushing against him, resisting the urge to press against him...

She brushed against him again, a little harder this time. A moan escaped her parted lips. "Master..." she breathed, her saber dropping from her violently shaking fingers.

His hands circled her waist then, pulling her against him roughly. "Ishara..."

She leaned back against him, feeling his arousal through the layers of their clothing. She offered her neck to him, eyes closed, reaching back to run her fingers through his hair. His hands were everywhere, stroking her body expertly, one hand cupping the swell of her breasts, the other splayed on her stomach, moving lower, his heat penetrating the thin material of her costume. He caught her mouth under his, kissing her desperately, turning her in his embrace before devouring her again. She threw her arms around his neck, returning his kisses, arching her body against his. His hands were on her back then, slowly massaging, moving lower, pushing aside the cloth covering her.

Her hands were at his collar, undoing the fastenings of his shirt with an urgency that echoed her need. Baring his chest quickly, she tore the shirt from him and dropped it at their feet. Her hands were in his hair again, fingers stroking the sensitive spot at his nape. She moaned softly against his lips.

He traced her jaw with his mouth, his mustache grazing her skin, driving her mad. Sweeping her feet from under her, he took her into his arms and carried her over to the tree where he'd discarded his jacket, laying her on the black material and covering her mouth again with his.

Pink welts trailed down his back where she clawed him, wanting to pull him closer. The sting of the air on the newly broken skin aroused him, dissolving the last shards of restraint. His hand was at her neck, unfastening the top of her clothing. In a swift movement, he tore the offensive material from her body, baring her to the waist. She gasped as the cool morning air chilled her skin, then exhaled hard as his hot wet mouth came down on her already stimulated nipples.

Her hands were in his hair again, pulling it from its neat tail, her fingers tangling in the soft mass. His mouth moved lower on her body while his hands slid up her legs, undoing the silver chain that held her skirt in place. Working quickly, she was now nude except for her boots. His mouth moved lower past her waist, across the soft dark triangle of curls, and dipped between her legs. Gods, she's sweet, he thought. Her juices flowed hotly from her softness. So sweet.

A primal moan escaped her lips as her hands clawed the moist fragrant earth beneath her. I've died, she thought, by the Force I've died.

"Gods," she breathed low, her whole body shaking from his attentions.

He slowly worked his way back to her lips, her hands at his trousers, frantically trying to unfasten them. He caught her hands in his, and raised them to his lips. "You're trembling," he whispered.

"Master, please," she sighed, "I need you."

He felt a bit of shock when she called him Master. "Are you sure, Ishara?"

Her eyes opened then; she stared at him with an intensity that made his heart race. He vaguely wondered if this was how she looked at Obi-Wan. She said in her low husky voice, "Qui-Gon, please." And he was lost.

He swiftly undid his trousers and let her pull them off his legs. She then pushed him gently, rolling him onto his back, lying before her. His shaft was hard, throbbing. She knelt at his side, tasting his skin, nipping his flat nipples with her teeth. When she moved lower across his stomach, his skin was on fire from her tongue, her wet kisses, the teasing touch of her hands. She took his arousal in her mouth, swirling her tongue around the head. He called her name loudly, echoing it in the trees. She moved then, stroking his length with her mouth, teasing his sac with light fingers. He began to move with her, thrusting deeper into her mouth. A bit of salty fluid flowed across her tongue. She stopped then and went to straddle him.

He caught her hips and positioned her beneath him instead. His eyes were piercing, and she at once felt his emotion as well as hers. Do you want this, Ishara? he asked, his voice in her mind.

Yes, Qui-Gon she answered, overwhelmed with his desire and her need.

He entered her slowly. Gods, she feels... Am I hurting you?

No. Gods no. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him into a demanding kiss. He thrust himself into her completely, sheathing himself in her warmth. She arched up against him, moaning against his lips. They moved together then, their rhythm slow at first, then building with urgency. He was in her mind again, sharing his desire, nearly driving her over the edge. She tried to do the same, unsuccessfully. He guided her then, helping her share her feelings, her emotions. They were raw, powerful, and pushed him almost to his climax. He felt her body spasm, racked with the waves of her orgasm and let himself come with a shout, pouring himself into her. His mouth muffled her scream as she faded into unconsciousness.

She slowly opened her eyes. Where am I, she wondered, feeling the cool air on her slightly damp body and the warmth of another body pressed to hers. Focusing her blurry vision, she saw him, smiling slightly, his eyes dancing in the dim light.

"It wasn't a dream, then."

Qui-Gon brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. "No. It wasn't a dream." Laying the back of his hand on her cheek, he asked, "how do you feel?"

Ishara brushed his hair back behind his ear. "I don't know. This has never happened to me before." She blushed deeply then. "I mean." His deep watery chuckle stopped her.

"This hasn't happened to me either," his smile putting her at ease for a moment. Then...

"Oh Gods, what have we done?" She started to babble. "My master. Oh gods, Ben. What can..."

He pressed his fingers to her lips. "Do you regret this?" His eyes were very serious now.

She shook her head. "No, not at all. It's just. They'll know."

Qui-Gon leaned back a bit wearing the same serene smile. "Eventually."

She studied him a moment, then said softly, "And you, master, do you regret this?"

His smile warmed her now. "No, I don't regret this at all."

She bit her lip, contrite. "And my master, will he be angry with you?"

His smile faded a little. "No, but I do not look forward to his reaction when he finds out."

She asked, "And when Obi-Wan finds out?"

"I will deal with him when the time comes."

"He'll never forgive me, master," she said softly. "Not for this. lapse. He already believes I have been.entertaining Prince Belden. What about when he learns of this?"

"Do you love him?" Qui-Gon asked.

Her gaze met his. "Yes Master. Very much."

He brushed his thumb across her cheek. "He will forgive you. His mistakes are worse than yours and his feelings for you never changed."

"You sound so sure," she whispered.

Qui-Gon smiled at her, "You will both look back on this lapse and laugh."

Ishara stroked his cheek then, a light tentative touch. "And you Master. How will you remember this?"

He kissed her forehead then. "Fondly Ishara. I will remember a beautiful young woman who made this old man feel 21 again."

They dressed slowly, shaking the leaves and twigs from their clothing before walking back to the palace. Walking up the steps together, Ishara put a hand on the master's arm. He paused and looked at her. She smiled and pulled a small four-pointed leaf from his hair. It was red-gold, and perfect. Carefully showing it to him, she held it between her fingers, twirling it a bit, then secreted it in her palm. "To remember you by," she said softly, lightly kissing his cheek. She turned and entered her chambers.

Qui-Gon waited for her door to click shut then entered the rooms he shared with his padawan. Sitting at the small desk, he pulled out his lightsaber repair kit. He opened it and drew out a small cloth bundle. Inside it were a few souvenirs from his travels. He sifted through them carefully then put them back, adding to them a small gold leaf.

"To remember you by," he whispered, closing the case.

DISCLAIMER: This story is a work of fiction written in appreciation of Star Wars; to promote the franchise and to keep it alive. All characters and settings original to Star Wars are copyright to Lucasfilm, Ltd. The rest is copyright to the author.