darththalia (darththalia) wrote in tpm_flashback, @ 2005-01-05 06:39:00 |
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Original poster: gaiaeagle
Title: Catenatus
Author: Tem've H'syan
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Qui/Xanatos, Qui/Obi
Summery: Companion piece to the Naming Days series, and shamelessly Qui-centric! Zine reprint from the excellent Rituals and Meditations. Here be non-con and sexual torture, and messy food sex to make up for it.
Warnings: Non listed
Author's e-mail and webpage: tem-ve@gmx.de, http://www.tem-ve.de/
Link to the story: http://www.tem-ve.de/fic/catenatus.h
Reasons for recommending: I loved this story because it gave little windows into Qui's life on some of his naming days. Every year, Qui gets a tattoo of a link that forms a chain around his body. I thought it was a unique concept to see who gives the tattoo each time, and the feelings behind it. The ending is what I remember the most. Can't tell though, wouldn't want to spoil it for those that haven't read it.
Quote from the story:
Qui-Gon winced, not so much at the pain of the festering infection as at the sight of open fear on his new Padawan's face, distorting Xanatos' handsome boyish face into a rigid mask of horror. It was not his fault, Qui-Gon had told him over and over again, that the first link he had placed on his Master's body had become infected. It was probably his own carelessness, taking the bandage off too soon and letting the fresh wound in the small of his back rub against the coarse fabric of his leggings... and yet, the boy was unreceptive, shutting himself off to an extent that should have puzzled Qui-Gon seeing as it was coming from a barely-induced Padawan whose braid still didn't reach lower than his chin, a string of shimmering jet black occasionally dancing across Xanatos' beautiful pale face as he sparred.
Much better it should be me, Qui-Gon thought, bearing the scarred misshapen tattoo, it really befits me much more than him. No, not this innocent slight milky youth. Let it be me, I am scarred enough already from the battles I've survived... wistfully, he trailed a hand through his shoulder-length hair that had begun showing the first traces of grey. His hand was stopped and met by a smaller, slender one clenching on to his, grey eyes staring up at him in mute fear and surrender, vulnerable. Whatever would happen, he would not let this boy come to harm, Qui-Gon swore.
The sixteenth link.