darththalia (darththalia) wrote in tpm_flashback, @ 2004-07-14 20:51:00 |
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Original poster: ausmac
Tuesday was a bad day for me, sorry I’m late.
Title: A Matter of Control
Author: Analise
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Q/O
Warnings: No warnings
Author's LJ id, e-mail, and/or website: I am unable to located either a live journal or a very current email address for Analise. If anyone has one, please let me know. The one on the archived story is analise@2cowherd.net but that’s way old.
Link to story: http://members.tripod.com/~SlashGirls/c
Reasons for recommending:
I loved this story the first time I read it way back in 1999. It hit all my buttons, I liked the story, the characters, the setting, and I still do.
The title links to the story – control of a world, and control of one’s destiny. Obi-Wan, too, is caught up with matters of control, since he’s realised how much he desires his Master. Of course, he doesn’t realise Qui-Gon is battling with the same sorts of desire – though we know he too will eventually loose his control -- it’s one of those lovely UST stories.
It also has a plot, which is neat, and alternating non-central character viewpoints providing background information to tie in the history of the situation, which is again something I like to see done. There is drama, an interesting storyline, and some of the best on-board-ship sex you’re likely to find. I read it now and find one or two things that slightly annoy me - the repeated use of the word “youth” when talking about Obi-Wan, for example, and an occasional rare, but not terribly critical, viewpoint slip - yet on the whole it reads as well now as it did then.
Quote from the story:
This time, though, he never made it as far as the softness of his Master's lips. Qui-Gon's hands came up out of nowhere to grab the sides of his face, holding him there.
"Obi Wan..." the voice was a low growl, a sound he had never heard from the older man. It was half a threat, half a plea. It was also a cold bucket of water. He froze there, mortified by what he had just done, part of his mind scurrying for excuses...explanations, something
to say. The fever was clouding his reflexes and his mind was not as quick as it normally was. He could not see the battling hunger in his mentor's eyes in the dark.
Uh, sorry Master. I slipped. I was reaching for the salt. I thought you were someone else. I've gone temporarily insane, but I'm better now...he faltered to a mental halt. He couldn't think of anything plausible.
Note to MA archivist the version on M/A contains errors (actually, the one I found was in the middle of my quotation) hence my use of the other archived version.