Warning: the following story contains implications of a m/m
relationship. STOP NOW if you are below 18 years of age OR if
you are easily offended.
Disclaimer: all hail almighty Lucasworld and its attendant
minions. And please note: this story is not for profit, only
written for the satisfaction of my readers.
Author: Ki
Archive: MA archive?, personal homepage
Category: romance, fun piece, POV, AU
Pairing: Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan
Rating: PG (implications of a relationship)
Warning(s): none.
Summary: this is my response to a challenge on the M_A. Guess
which one?
The cirque lake shimmered under the double suns of Fenix II. It
shone like a plate made of sapphire stones. The surface of the
lake was smooth, unruffled by the gentle breeze. Beneath the
surface rippled silverish-black shoals of fish; they darted
about, their metallic scales flashing.
It was this lake where I first saw the rainbow-winged flying
fish soaring in the sky. I watched it circle once, twice. Then,
it dove straight into the water without a splash.
I watched intently, holding my breath with excitement. The
sleek beauty of the flying fish mesmerized me.
"Enjoying the scenery, Obi-Wan?" A deep voice startled me and I
turned around to see Qui-Gon smiling at me, his deep-blue eyes
alive with amusement. He was standing beside the Fenix trade
representative who was a fisherman. For a moment, I admired the
broad shoulders, the strength in Qui-Gon. How noble he looked
in his dark-brown Jedi robes. The quintessential Jedi. The
Fenix fisherman looked rustic in comparison, wearing only a
patched tunic and a pair of trousers that had seen better days.
He carried a wicket basket next to him. I could smell an odd
mixture of sweat and fish emanating from his stout figure.
"Yes," I nodded, my hands clasped within the voluminous folds
of my robes.
There was a high-pitched whistle and my eyes could see a blur
of movement emerging straight out from the water. With
breath-taking speed, the flying fish appeared, holding
something in its mouth ... beak.
The Fenix fisherman extended his wrist and I ducked, feeling
the buzz of the creature's wings over my head. When I looked
up, it was perched on the man's wrist, its opalescent wings
spread to dry. There was indeed a squirming fish in its beak.
Its owner reached over, took the fish and placed it in its
basket.
"There," the fisherman representative said with a tone of
satisfaction in his gravelly voice. "The simplicity of our
trade. We have our flying fish to help us, not mechanical
trawlers offered by the Corporation."
"Fascinating," Qui-Gon said. He eyed the flying fish, smiling
again.
I frowned, knowing how my master and mate was oddly drawn to
pathetic life forms. I could feel eyes on me and I realized
that the flying fish was looking at me with liquid intelligent
black eyes. Up close, I could see its resemblance to an
ordinary fish but it had the most beautiful wings I had ever
seen. They looked transparent under the sun, like the wings of
a Vis dragonfly. For limbs, it had avian-like feet.
In the end, the flying fish had a combination of fish and hawk.
Shining scales covered it totally; everytime it moved, I was
strongly reminded of shimmering expensive silk.
It was watching me closely.
I could swear it was sentient.
After a dinner comprising of spicy soup and steamed mountain
grains, we both retired to bed. Qui-Gon cradled me in his arms,
stroking my face with gentle hands. We talked about the day's
activities, about the honest Fenix folk who fished by trade and
how intrusive the Corporation could be. I loved talking to
Qui-Gon like that. Relaxed, contemplative. A center of
stability.
Then, he kissed me full on the lips, nuzzling my throat
playfully.
I slept comfortably for the whole night. It was only dawn when
I woke up for my morning exercises. While Qui-Gon slept on
quietly, I went through a set of katas to loosen my muscles, to
focus my inner awareness. I was halfway through the 'heart'
kata when I heard a tapping on the window.
At first, I chose to ignore it, closing my eyes and centering
the Force. But it became more insistent, breaking my
concentration. I cursed softly, draped a towel around my
shoulders and went over to the window.
It was a tiny flying fish.
It was flopping weakly against the window panel, its wings
beating against the glass in a soft tattoo. Taptaptap.
For some strange reason, I kept thinking that it was an infant.
A baby. Recently hatched.
I opened the window slightly and the tiny flying fish made a
few tentative steps, missed --- and fell. My heart did a double
loop and I quickly cushioned its fall with my palm. It felt
cold; it shivered as if it was frightened.
Gazing at it, I marveled at its delicate structure. Its scales
looked almost metallic in the moonlight. Like a metal filigree
sculpture, I mused as I headed back into the sleeping room.
Found a clean towel and made a small nest. Gently, very
carefully, I placed the tiny flying fish into its center.
I fed it pieces of bread and it gobbled the morsels down as if
it was starved. I could sense its fear dissipating gradually,
as its belly grew bigger with the bread. As it settled down to
sleep, I wondered how Qui-Gon would say about this new arrival.
Qui-Gon was amused ... and not amused. He tried to stroke the
tiny flying fish but it hissed like an attacking feline and
refused to be touched. Instead, it scuttled towards me in a
flurry of transparent wings and clatter of sharp claws.
"Well, it seems to like you, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon grinned,
skirting around the agitated creature. I noticed that its neck
ridges were erect. Threat posture, I thought inwardly. I kept
seeing images of jagged glass in my mind.
"I thought pathetic life forms prefer you instead," I countered
back as the flying fish climbed onto my arm and up onto my
right shoulder.
He chuckled and placed his hand on my arm lovingly. "It's
Force-resistant and it has spunk."
The images of jagged glass faded, replaced by images of white
clouds adrift in blue skies. I blinked, shaking my head. "I
think it's telepathic as well."
I listened to the flying fish croon softly as I followed
Qui-Gon to the door for another day of trade negotiations.
"The Fenix greet you," the same trade representative bowed
slightly.
"And to you," Qui-Gon said politely. I inclined my head too.
The fisherman suddenly chuckled aloud. "It would seem you have
been adopted, Padawan Kenobi." He gestured at the little flying
fish on my shoulder.
I lifted an eyebrow. "Adopted?"
"Yes, you should feel honored. The flying fish select their
companions wisely. Congratulations, Padawan Kenobi."
"I am adopted?" I said dumbly. The tiny flying fish on my
shoulder chirped.
Qui-Gon's low laughter of amusement could be heard. I fixed him
an icy glare.
"Wait, don't I have to be a fisherman as well?" I asked,
half-curious.
"The flying fish choose, not us." The trade representative
grinned and he glanced at Qui-Gon. Both of them seemed to share
a private joke for they both started to laugh.
I decided to call my flying fish Surprise.
Surprise ate a lot. The Fenix showed me what to feed it. The
flying fish loved the fat white grubs that lived along the
shores of the cirque lake. I watched with barely disguised
shock as Surprise swallowed one grub after another like a
glutton.
Yes, I was adopted by a pathetic life form. Well, Surprise
wasn't exactly pathetic. It was beautiful, a work of
evolutionary genes and art. It seemed to grow an inch after
every meal. Soon, it reached the size of a small feral cat.
Qui-Gon spent most of the time negotiating with the
representatives from the Corporation. The talks took hours,
involving a lot of bureaucracy and posturing. The Jedi were
sent to Fenix II so that money-minded businessmen won't exploit
the ordinary fishermen. It was hard work for the two parties.
Exhausting. The Corporation representatives, stone-faced
individuals clothed in drab gray, were adamant with their
request to use the noisy trawlers for commercial fishing. The
Fenix countered back by saying that they preferred using their
flying fish. Many of the fishermen present in the Hall brought
along the shining-winged flying creatures; as I gazed around
the room, I could see glimpses of silver when they spread their
pinions, making soft hoots. Surprise bobbed its head, a purring
emanating from its chest. It sent me images of stone flints,
its impression of the Corporation faction.
I was given the permission to go for a stroll during one of the
rare intervals in between each talk. I headed straight for the
lake, Surprise clinging onto my tunic front, its wings
half-extended.
The lake remained smooth and lovely to look at. Five or more
fishermen walked around, their baskets bulging with their
catch. In the sky, I could spy the silver flashes of airborne
flying fish swooping about.
I stretched out my right hand and Surprise clambered over to
settle on my wrist. Its claws nipped painfully into my skin and
I winced. Images of orange sunsets with the pinkest of clouds
filled my mind. Surprise was trying to reassure me.
Surprise whistled shrilly, its wings fully-extended this time.
Sunlight turned the thin membranes into sheets of
mother-of-pearl. I flicked my wrist and Surprise was off,
darting into the sky like a comet. I could see its wings
sparkle once before disappearing into the distance.
I waited.
And waited.
For a brief moment, I suffered a pang of worry. What if
Surprise truly disappeared? What if it was attacked by other
adult flying fish? I closed my eyes, willing my Jedi training
to ease the panic, stop my irrational fears.
A familiar whistle and Surprise appeared, bearing a
large-looking fish in its beak. I smiled, calling out, a rush
of joy warming my chest. The flying fish landed on my wrist,
wobbling a little with the weight of the black-scaled fish. I
removed the fish from Surprise's beak, feeling slightly
ridiculous. A Jedi holding a flying fish with his right hand
and a squirming live one with his left.
What an amusing sight ...
I gave Surprise's catch to the cooks working in the Fenix
Diplomatic Hall. We had it for dinner, together with the local
delicacies of baked crustaceans and steamed fish stuffed with
mint-tasting herbs. For celebration, the Fenix tradesmen
brought a huge platter covered with the freshest and sweetest
fish. From what Qui-Gon had told me, the Corporation had lost
their argument and the Fenix were triumphant.
Surprise dozed on my shoulder, sending pictures of moonlit
reflections.
When we finally retreated back to our room, Qui-Gon was tired
and I massaged his shoulders, pointing out to him that his
muscles were taut. He laughed, retorting that I had so much fun
with Surprise. "Try negotiating with boring Corporation types,"
he had grumbled.
I bathed, Surprise draped over the tub. When I was done, the
flying fish sat on my shoulder and preened contentedly.
Qui-Gon finished his reports and retired gratefully to bed. He
was getting old and his bones ached with too much exercise. We
cuddled for a while, watching the moon rise in the sky like a
white disc. Surprise slept nearby in its nest of towels. Within
a few days, I had developed a strong linkage with the flying
fish.
"How do you feel being adopted?" Qui-Gon's voice rumbled in my
ears, his breath tickling my neck.
"Interesting feeling," I said truthfully, seeing Surprise's
silver-tinged form in the semi-darkness.
"Now you can't complain about my 'pathetic life forms'," he
said with a grin.
"But the Marrian cat was honestly trying to shred our bed
sheets into pieces. And what about the Debien vole? It
multiplied and I hated to see our quarters overrun by furry
rodents. Oh. The half-feral Aro wolf. I remembered it scaring
the creche children."
"But they were abandoned --- "
"Master, they were drawn to you."
"Surprise adopted you."
"That's a different case."
"No, the flying fish are like domesticated felines. They choose
you instead."
"Hooray for the expert!"
"Obi-Wan, don't be impertinent."
"I am not being impertinent. I am only being truthful."
Qui-Gon kissed me gently while I fairly shook with amusement.
By the time we left for Coruscant, Surprise had become firmly
attached to me. I could still remember the expressions on the
faces of the cruiser pilots when they saw the flying fish on my
shoulder. But thank the Force, the trip back was relatively
uneventful. Surprise was still unfriendly to Qui-Gon, raising
its neck-ridges at him everytime he tried to stroke the flying
fish. So, Qui-Gon stayed well away from the flying fish while I
fed it with strips of meat.
I could just imagine the Jedi Temple reacting to Surprise. I
could see the flying fish stealing bits and pieces of food from
the kitchen. I wanted to see Master Yoda's reaction.
I began to laugh and Qui-Gon glanced at me, his eyes bemused.
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