The faint drift of dust motes in the sunlight caught my eye as I woke up. In the early dawn, they shone like gold flecks in the sand. And then I remembered that I'd kissed you, and after that we'd fallen together into some dim world of passion and fire.

Fire. Oh, Force. Oh, love. And I looked over at you, asleep in my arms, your hair gently drifting over my shoulder. Fire. The fire of my devotion would become the fire of my death.

But I would never regret loving you. Never.

"Master," I whispered softly against your cheek, my hand stroking your back absently. "Qui-Gon."

You stirred; your arms reached out and took me into them. Our bodies pressed together in that familiar newness they say all lovers experience. My delight in life and loving you had never been so strong.

"Love that well which you will leave ere long," I breathed.

"Never can leave you," you whispered into my neck. "There is no death, love, only the Force."

I smiled against your forehead and you felt it, but said nothing.

Moments passed like that, our new-found love bond singing with quiet joy, mixed with traces of apprehension. We were not afraid. We had made our choice. But we yet could not desire death. Human clay is not made to joy in its own demise.

Silence filled the air as we lay entwined, one of my legs between yours, our unified breaths the only motion in the room. Our heartbeats, too, kept time together, and I began counting them without knowing it, and stopped when I realized I was wondering how many I had left.

So I slid down and kissed you, our eyes open. I watched the faint expressions falling back and forth through your eyes as our mouths met, vague surprise at first, then the deepness of an abiding devotion.

I gathered myself and forgot the universe, choosing instead for a few moments to love you, and not consider the rest of this morning worth anything.

Breathing heavily, we broke our kiss and I sighed, laying my forehead against yours.

"Love?" you said. "It is time to prepare. We must be ready."

Yes. Yes. They can't find us like this. Doubtless we'd only die more slowly.

I kissed the tip of your nose and we tore our hands and bodies away from each other.

I almost reached out for you again, but caught myself and turned away, picking up the scattered clothes from the floor and folding them as you got dressed. I could not bear to watch your beautiful body disappearing from my hungry eyes.

I threw on an old set of tunics. I did not wish to wear fine clothes to my death. You would be the only prize I could carry with me.

Both dressed, we lingered over a light breakfast -- the last food we would ever eat -- watching each other move hand to mouth, wishing we could be the food the other ate.

You took my wrist in your hand when we had finished, before I could clear away the dishes.

"Leave them." I nodded -- why should we have to clean this place before we died? Let another do it.

You drew me into your arms again, and mapped my face with your lips, kissing my eyelids, lips, forehead, cheeks, and temple. I closed my eyes, faint with desire, and merely felt the perfection of your body against mine for a few moments.

Then we sat down on the floor, your arms still around my waist, and we sank together into the last meditation we would ever share.

I saw fire and refined gold shining in the darkness. And I remembered that gold must pass through fire to be pure.

I tilted my head up and kissed your throat.

"Let them come," I whispered. "Let all who are against us come. Let them kill us. For I love you and I will never deny that."