Hullo! Sorry if this comes out messy, my hotmail eats all tabs
and I have yet to figure out how to make it stop. Much love to
my Padawan Joy for editing her master's typos. No spoilers, set
well before TPM and my first foray into flirtatious Force
fellas. The rating is appalingly PG right now. =p
Chocolate and creative snickering are welcome!
Tenshi
0=)
"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's
end"-Closing Time
Anyone who thought that 'nothing' was a simple topic of
meditation never tried it for any extended period of time.
Obi-Wan HATED it. Not that he could think about how much he
disliked not thinking of thinking of nothing, since that
constituted thinking of something. Or at least, Qui-Gon said
so. Obi-Wan wound his body though the constantly moving rings
and bars of the training array, wondering briefly how he'd
gotten into this particular line of work. He snorted faintly.
Like he could be anything but a Jedi.
Don't get distracted, he told himself, evening his breathing as
he used the Force to sense when the next handhold would come
within range. The apparatus moved in a way that was anything
but predictable. One slip and it was a long way down, with lots
of nasty blunt rods and hoops to slow his fall. Last time he
lost his train of thought he'd been purple all over for a week,
not to mention the disapproving glance from his Master. Obi-wan
would take the bumps over THAT, any day.
Nothing. In the darkness of his shut eyes, he felt a loop of
metal dip down just so for him to grab onto and flip over. He
couldn't concentrate on when it would get there, when it was
there he just had to grab it, that's what made this exercise
all the worse. It was one thing to sit cozily on a mat and
completely turn off your brain, it was quite another to do the
same while blindly working your way through the jungle gym of
doom.
"Your loathing of this exercise is not only an unhealthy
attitude, but it counts as an object of concentration."
Obi-wan started, having lost the sense of his master in the
room with him. It was one reason he disliked what he was doing.
He had to shut off lots of senses to open up his awareness of
the force, or something like that. If he understood it
completely HE'D be the one watching an apprentice in the
routine.
"Remember, absolutely blank. No colors, no words, nothing to
cling to your thoughts and distract you from the voice inside
you."
"Sorry, but the voice inside me seems a bit noncomunicative
today," Obi-Wan returned, not opening his eyes. "Master." he
added belatedly. For some reason it was particularly irritating
this time. He'd never liked it, but he was getting downright
annoyed. Supposedly, Jedi never got annoyed.
"Padawan-" Qui-Gon warned.
Except at their apprentices.
Obi-Wan sighed. "Forgive my impudence, master."
"You're supposed to be impudent, I believe. If you weren't I'd
wonder if you were ill." Qui-Gon sounded amused.
Trusting his master's good humor, Obi-Wan opened one ice blue
eye to squint at him. "If you really wanted my mind to vacate
conscious thought, you could just klonk me on the head with
your lightsaber and save us both a lot of trouble."
Qui-Gon chuckled, folding his arms in the sleeves of his robe.
"Yes, but a dazed apprentice wouldn't look good on either of
us. That will do for now.. Come down before you make me any
dizzier." Obi-Wan had been at this all morning and had only
clocked ten minutes of completely blank brain at a time. He
thought it was a terrible score, but in fact, it was quite
impressive for someone his age. Letting go of his rapid
synapses was difficult for Obi-Wan. His brain worked constantly
to puzzle things out and sometimes it would be best if he'd
just still and listen to the Force instead of his logic. It was
a skill even some masters had to struggle with. Of course,
Qui-Gon thought ruefully, Masters are supposed to be perfect.
He looked at his padawan, slender form tangled in the training
array. He pondered the floor above him, mapping a path down.
His narrow apprentice braid hung down from his temple like a
tail in the artificial gravity, a line between his brows as he
thought, bright blue eyes on the gyrating bars.
Perfect.
"What was that, Master?" Obi-Wan tilted his head sideways,
trying to get a right side up evaluation of Qui-Gon's
preoccupied expression.
Qui-Gon blinked. It had been some time since his thoughts had
slipped out into open air so easily- or perhaps his Padawan was
just getting better at hearing them. "Nevermind, Padawan.. Try
the blue one."
"Hnn?" Obi-Wan made a grab for a ring coming into his space; it
was simple from here. He just had to get that hoop and swing
down to-
A rush of dizziness hit him, nausea wrenching his stomach.
Suddenly cold and clammy despite the overly warm room and the
sweat-damp training clothes he wore, Obi-Wan desperately tried
to rein in the vertigo. The room spun with a dark shockwave,
inverting wildly as he lost his grip, tumbling through the air.
There was a soft implosion somewhere inside him, then a flurry
of brown sleeve reaching up and catching him, easing him down
to the mat. "Obi-Wan?"
Obi-Wan was wondering if he was going to be sick. He'd felt
disturbances in the force before, but this was unlike anything
he could remember. And Qui-Gon sounded so worried- he should
answer him-he hated making his master distressed-
"Obi-Wan!"
Darkness.
Denari Ali Benalin wasn't like any other Jedi Obi-Wan had ever
known. She laughed a lot for one, found Jedi idiosyncrasies
infinitely amusing, especially her own, and scorned the usual
attire as "horrifically mundane." Her brown robes had always
fallen in elegant folds, with the faintest hint of shimmer to
them.
She had some years on Obi-Wan, having left the temple at her
race's equivalent of thirteen, which was about five human
years. She was a Thenalin, a dark fragile race known for their
love of poetry and art and precious things. They were also the
best assassins in the galaxy. Thenalin didn't live very long
but they learned terrifically fast to make up for it. Obi Wan
had been ten then. Her graduating words to him had been to
remind him that all Jedi were secretly 'only in it for the
accessories'.
Despite her flippant nature she was as true a knight as they
came, destined for the council were it not for the unfortunate
matter of the short life span. When Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had
bumped into her last, three years before, shades of aging black
as dark as her skin had already begun to thread through her
rich purple hair. That hadn't stopped her from openly whistling
at Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon hadn't bothered to conceal his grin while
his 'pretty little padawan' had wanted to sink right into the
pavement in mortal embarrassment.
And now she was gone. Ripped from one plane to another, just
like that. Obi-Wan would have found it difficult to believe
that the Jedi was really gone, were it not for the raw pain
inside and the memory of the fall earlier that reminded him. He
sat very still on one end of his bed, the traffic of the
Republic capital zooming silent and unnoticed outside the
window of his room.
"On a Regelian slaver ship." Qui-Gon continued softly, telling
him in more detail what the force already has informed him of
hours before. "Thousands of former slaves owe their life to
her. "
"She'd be proud of a blaze of glory like that," Obi-Wan glanced
up at his master. "As long as her hair looked good." The smile
hurt, but it was honest. Even now, she could make him see the
brighter side of things. He rubbed at his chest, although the
ache within was not physical. "Will it always be like that?
When another Jedi-"
"No." Qui-Gon sat down next to his apprentice, keeping a slight
respectful distance. "The first time is always a shock, even
worse when the Jedi are extremely close. Sensing a death
through the Force is never easy, but your body learns to take
it a little better after a while." The words seemed flat to
Qui-Gon. He sounded like he was giving a dissertation, and
Obi-Wan had just lost one of his closest friends from
childhood. Jedi advice could only go so far. "Obi-Wan." He
placed a hand on his padawan's shoulder when Obi-Wan did not
respond to his name.
The younger man looked up, too stricken to be secretly grateful
for even so slight a touch. He had not really been crying, but
the numb look on his features was almost worse. "It will get
easier. You'll see."
"I know master." Obi-Wan looked out the window, not into the
darkening sky but at his own reflection. His eyes held
reflected lights in troubled blue depths, quiet pools of sorrow
and lingering disbelief.
As much as he wished he could, there was no comfort his master
could give. He sensed that he should go, rising to his feet and
making his way to the door. Something lodged in the back of his
mind. Although really it was none of his business and he was
asking it for a selfish reason, some part of him that was not a
Jedi Knight above all else had to know. "Were you in love with
her, Obi-Wan?"
"Name one student at the academy who wasn't," Obi-Wan answered,
to the window. "No, Master," he sighed, glancing over his
shoulder at Qui-Gon. "Not like that." He wound his apprentice
braid around his finger, thoughtfully. The silence stretched
out a few seconds longer.
"Ah." Qui-Gon responded at last, not sure now what to do with
the information he had. He wasn't even sure why he'd asked. He
screened his thoughts delicately; it would be best if his
apprentice remained unaware of his Master's moral dilemma.
Obi-Wan noted the relief in his master's tone, even in such a
small noise. Why should he be relived I wasn't in love with
her? He wondered. Maybe because it's easier on me. Yes, that
must be it. Obi-Wan noted that preoccupied air around his
Master yet again, but this time deduced it must be his own
grief making the older man uneasy. He tamped down the pain
somewhat, not wanting his master to worry. "I'll be alright,
master."
Qui-Gon cleared his throat. "Call me if you need me, Padawan."
"Yes master," Obi-Wan murmured to the lights outside his
window, to himself.
The door slid shut behind one confused Jedi, leaving his
apprentice pondering impossibilities in his darkening room. Now
that he was alone, he let himself cry. Quiet shuddering sobs
shook his shoulders as he let the release wipe away any
lingering shadows the premonition had left him with. He wiped
his eyes on his tunic, only now noticing that his master must
have cleaned him up after he had passed out. He wasn't in
soiled training gear any longer, and his hair was slightly
damp. Obi-Wan sniffled faintly, feeling terribly young despite
his eighteen years. Not only was he having to be cared for like
he was thirteen again, but he was curled up sobbing in a corner
of his room. All he needed now was a stuffed wookie to cuddle.
How undignified. Jedi shouldn't sob.
"And why not?" a sultry voice retorted, with amused
indignation. "Sometimes I think students except to be droids
with lightsabers. It's really sweet of you to cry so hard,
Obikenobi."
Obi-wan jumped, his eyes searching out the dark room. He
fumbled for the light panel with one hand.
"Oh, I'll get it." A soft blue glow diffused in his sparse
quarters, coalescing into a slender dark shape perched on the
edge of his desk. "Oh such a startled face! Did you think I
wouldn't tell you goodbye? You were always a favorite." Sharp
teeth bared at him in a feral grimace, the way Thenalin smiled.
"Remember when you were eight and you wrote a poem for me? I'd
just walloped you in the jari-ball arena..."
"D-Denari?" Obi-Wan stammered, as he wobbily gained his feet,
eyes wide. Somehow when he just thought he'd gotten used to the
extent of the Force, it threw him a curve. Not only was the
shade of the companion he was quite properly mourning sitting
smirking on his study table, she didn't even have the decency
to be morosely reserved. In fact, she winked at him.
"The only. You were always so sensitive.. I thought I should
pop in and tell you I'm okay... Sweet T'thack you've gotten
tall!" Her eyes swept over the young Jedi, grown out of the
gawkiness he'd had when last she saw him, no longer even
resembling a child.
"I'll never be as tall as Qui-Gon... " Obi-wan smiled,
gesturing to his clothing. "He still makes me feel twelve."
"Does he, Now." Denari leaned back against the wall, the aura
of her body lighting the space behind her. "Twelve?" Her purple
eyes were lidded knowingly. "Is that all he makes you feel?"
"Denari!" Obi-wan forgot briefly that the friend he was
speaking to was very recently deceased, and took a few steps
closer. "Will you let that alone?"
"No." the Thenalin smirked. "You were a fool to tell me in the
first place. You know what a romantic I am. Poor Obikenobi...
think you're the first to fall in love with you master? You
always did have a martyr syndrome.. not that I blame you of
course." She tittered girlishly. "He has FABULOUS shoulders.
And features like a Corellian sphinx..."
"I'm not in love with him," Obi-Wan retorted, sullenly.
"Oh no, of course not. " Denari hopped off the desk with a toss
of her intricate braids, boots silent on the floor. "You've
just had a severe crush for the last five years."
Obi-wan chewed his lip and looked sulky. "Maybe."
"I haven't much time. Thenalin never do, you know." Her face
became serious. She dropped the pet nickname she'd always had
for him. "Obi-wan, I mean it. You have to tell him."
"There isn't any reason-"
"Shall I get Master Yoda to refresh your memory on repressed
emotion? "
Obi-Wan slumped, defeated. "You always win."
She grinned sharply. "Some things never change.. Even when
you're dead, Obikenobi. Tell him soon.. Please?"
Something about her tone made Obi-Wan glance at her worriedly
only slightly disturbed that he could still see the other side
of the room through her. "What do you know? Is something going
to happen to me?" his heart lurched. "To him?"
"It's nothing I can tell you. But for once, do as I ask you?
Think of it as a favor to a friend long gone."
Obi-Wan nodded, detachedly. "I promise."
The Force surged briefly against his cheek as Denari leaned in
to kiss it. "Goodbye, Obikenobi. I'm as close as the force. Be
true."
"Denari!"
She was already fading.
"Wait!"
The room plunged into night. Obi-Wan, bewildered and wondering
if he had been dreaming, switched the lights on. His room
looked neat and normal, but somehow his perceptions were
skewed. Vision or not, he'd given his word, he was committed to
it.
"Yeah, need to be committed.. Maybe I could get a job as a
landscape gardener." He flopped back on his bed and stared at
the models dangling from his ceiling.
How in the worlds was he going to tell Qui-Gon that his caring
for him went way beyond the usual apprentice adoration? A
number of unlikely scenarios flashed through the young Jedi's
mind, leaving him giggling and mortified by turn. "Denari," He
mumbled to the empty room, running his fingers through his
short burr of hair, "You've gotten me in an awful mess."
Obi-Wan couldn't sleep. The hum of the hyperdrive was
soothing, he'd quieted mind and body, to no avail. Even though
he and Qui-Gon had been sent on a mission before Denari's
funeral, it was not her death or missing her memorial that kept
his brain securely plugged in long hours after it should have
shut off. He felt closer to his friend now than he ever had
when she walked this galaxy, he was worn out from working to
perfect single-handed balance flips while holding his lit
saber, there was no reason for him to be wide awake.
The sound of even breathing from the berth beneath his made
Obi-Wan exhale in frustration.
Nothing except for THAT.
I'm just waiting for the right moment, he told himself, knowing
he was really just stalling. He rolled over, giving up on Jedi
relaxation techniques and settling for good old tossing and
turning. Qui-Gon murmured something in his sleep and Obi-Wan
went still, not wanting his master to be awakened by a writhing
padawan in the bunk above him.
Writhing padawan. Obi-Wan wished fervently he hadn't given
himself that particular mental image. Why did his body have to
be restless just because his mind was? It simply wasn't fair.
He closed his eyes to block out the fantasy before it got out
of hand, they were too close in here together for Obi-Wan just
to indulge himself and not have Qui-Gon pick up the waves, even
in his sleep. He tried the nothingness trick, it was hard but
the best way to get rid of mental flotsam.
Emptiness. Nothing. The Force- only the Force.
Protect.
Obi-Wan's eyes flashed open. What was that? Qui-Gon's
breathing had shallowed, Obi-Wan could sense his dream-state
even now. The restlessness returned with reinforcements, and
Obi-Wan realized belatedly that his unease was not his own. His
master's subconscious thoughts were keeping him awake.
Protect. Obi-Wan rolled the word around in his mind, wondering
what it could pertain to. There were too many choices, it was
too broad a topic. He reached out and probed the Force gently,
discovering a complex web of concern and conflict laced in the
air around his master.
Now how had he managed to keep THAT hidden? Obi-Wan swung his
head over the edge of the bunk, peering down at his master.
There were no lights in the tiny cabin, but a dim cold glow
leaked in from the star-smeared window. Qui-Gon seemed
peaceful, save for the slight tenseness in his features.
Obi-Wan's eyebrows drew together worriedly. The bunks were just
close enough for him to reach down and twitch away a strand of
hair that had fallen across his master's face. It occurred to
the younger Jedi that the brown was shot through with more grey
than it had been when he'd first become a padawan. The hair of
his master that was braided into his padawan tail was almost
indistinguishable from Obi-Wan's own sandy-coloured locks, but
time had shown in it since then. Obi-Wan folded his arms on the
edge of the bunk, letting the braid dangle over one bare
shoulder, blue eyes worriedly on his master.
"What troubles you?" he murmured softly, extending his arm and
tracing one finger over his master's eyebrow as he thought. The
answer came to him before he'd even realized he'd used the
Force to find it, echoing softly in the still corners of his
mind.
"Me?" Obi-Wan pulled his fingers away. What had he done? Was
Qui-Gon protecting him? He'd always protected his padawan, why
should it trouble him now? He grazed his master's subconscious
again, willfully this time, spurred by anxiety and burning
curiosity.
"Too young?" Eyes shut tight, fingers undulating gently as he
moved the Force around him and his master, Obi-Wan pushed past
the vague words, wanting specifics, images, not drifting
concepts.
He found them. Suddenly, vividly, so much that he quite forgot
himself.
"I most certainly am NOT!" His announcement rang clearly as an
alarm klaxon in the tiny room, Obi-Wan still having enough
contact with the force to feel his master's tenuous hold on
sleep evaporate.
Obi-Wan retrieved his hand, biting his lip on the startled
noise that threatened to leak out, and pressed himself back in
the crevasse of his bunk like a frightened lizard. The Force
that had come so easily to him before was now teasing and
elusive, refusing to obey him and shield his thoughts.
Please don't let him notice oh please oh please oh-
"Padawan?"
$%&*#@!! "Yes master?" Obi-Wan bit his lip so hard he
tasted blood.
"Are you intruding on my dreams, padawan?" Qui-Gon's voice was
perfectly neutral, his emotions locked up tighter than a vial
of Spice.
"I- sensed your unease, master... I only thought to comfort
you." It was truth, at least, and Obi-Wan held his breath as
Qui-Gon seemed to take a century to reply.
"Could you come down here, please, Obi-Wan? I don't wish to
discuss this with the bottom of your mattress."
Fighting to stop the watery feeling in his knees, Obi-Wan
flipped down and knelt quietly at the edge of Qui-Gon's bed.
His head bowed in a fashion usually reserved for receiving
reprimands or asking favors, he missed the smile that ghosted
across his master's lips.
Qui-Gon was sitting up as best as possible in the space allowed
him, sorting himself out behind the hasty shield in his mind.
"Are you disappointed with me, Padawan?"
It was the last thing Obi-Wan expected to hear. "No, master!"
He started forward, and paused uneasily when he realized his
hand was resting on Qui-Gon's knee. He sank back to his heels,
meekly. "You could never disappoint me, master. I only hope I
haven't-"
"Oh, do hush, Obi-Wan, and don't grovel. I'm not mad at you."
"Yes-Master- I mean, No Ma- I- oh, Damn." Obi-Wan sat down
heavily. Qui-Gon chuckled softly. "Drop the master apprentice
bit for a moment, would you?" His hand brushed Obi-Wan's hair,
softly. Obi-Wan leaned into the touch, just an insignificant
amount, but it was enough. "I'm sorry, Obi-Wan.. I am your
teacher. I did not mean to fall in love with you."
Obi-wan, his mind still not recovered from his surprise, could
not conceal the shimmering wave of joy that washed through him
at his master's words. Qui-Gon blinked, expecting only the
infatuation of an apprentice. He was not prepared for the
blossom of emotion in Obi-Wan's eyes when he looked up at him.
"I do not mind, Ma- Qui-Gon." the name came clumsily without
the comfort of titles.
"I will disappoint you, Obi-Wan. People disappoint each other."
"Not in this." Obi-Wan frowned slightly. "Unless... you ask me
to forget this ever happened. "
"Would you?" Qui-Gon eyed the other man carefully.
"If you asked me to, Mast-"
Qui-Gon lifted his chin gently, meeting his eyes. "Would you,
Obi-Wan?"
Obi-Wan swallowed hard against the sudden rise of want, his
master's eyes so intent on his face and the warmth of fingers
against his skin. "No, Qui-Gon Jinn. Not for as long as
anything of me survives to remember."
Qui-Gon smiled, very softly. At first Obi-Wan thought it only a
rogue shadow before Qui-Gon's other hand cradled his opposite
cheek, and warm lips closed over his own.
For a moment Obi-Wan could not move, too many realizations
running rampant in his mind for him to be mobile. Then he
surged upwards into the embrace waiting for him, his arms
sliding easily around Qui-Gon's hips. The kiss was subtle at
first, shared soft pressure before Obi-Wan yielded to the
memory of his master's dream.
You don't have to protect me, Master... Not from this.
Obi-Wan wasn't sure how it happened but he and Qui-Gon were
tangled in the narrow space of the lower berth, arms and
fingers impatient to touch and hold and lips eagerly
surrendering and taking in turn.
"Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan whispered, his mouth a warm place against
his master's neck. "Is this forbidden?"
"Would that stop you?" Qui-Gon smoothed the soft hair,
cherishing the feel of his padawan's embrace.
"Light, no," Obi-Wan breathed, sending a tremor through his
master. "This feels too right."
"It is not forbidden, Padawan... but I'm twice your age."
Obi-Wan gave a most un-romantic snort. "So what? Age matters
not."
Qui-Gon groaned softly. "I asked for that."
"So you did, Master." Obi-Wan laid a hand over Qui-Gon's heart,
pressing his master's palm against his own chest, his braid
somehow getting tangled in Qui-Gon's fingers. "And you asked
for this."
Qui-Gon found it difficult to breathe.
"I am yours, Master." Obi-Wan pressed close, his lips bee-stung
from kisses and asking more. "All of me." His gaze darkened.
"Don't protect me from your love."
Qui-Gon felt tears stinging the back of his eyes, this shining
new creature pledging his very existence to him. But he could
not argue with his apprentice, everything around them hummed
with life and encouragement, even in the darkness of space.
"You will have to teach me, padawan. Do you accept the
challenge?"
"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan wound himself around the larger man,
sheltered between him and the wall of the cabin. Qui-Gon kissed
his hair for a few moments. he could feel Obi-Wan's need, but
his weariness was greater. "We should sleep, Obi-Wan. My
training can be discussed later and we have a mission that we
must attend to. We are still Jedi, above all."
Obi-Wan smiled into his master's shoulder. "I love you."
It was only then that Qui-Gon realized Obi-Wan hadn't said it
yet, at least not with his voice. He had expected some sort of
explosion like fireworks, but instead it was a quietness,
welling up inside him and filling in all the holes.
"Sleep well, padawan... Your last promise to Denari is
fulfilled."
Obi-Wan sat up abruptly, banging his head on the upper berth.
"OW! What?"
"I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't damage my apprentice."
Qui-Gon reached up and pulled Obi-Wan back into the shelter of
his embrace. "And tell your impertinent friend she can quit
bothering me, too."
Obi Wan grinned. It would be just like Denari to play double
agent. He yawned unexpectedly, realizing he'd barely slept any
the night before as well. Qui-Gon reached up and traced a
finger over Obi-Wan's cheek before kissing him softly.
"Sweet dreams, Padawan."
"And you, Master."
Long after they had drifted into silence, a dim blue shadow
drifted in and gave them a quick smile before diffusing into
the nothing and everything she was part of. This doesn't
forgive you for missing my funeral, Obikenobi... she moved
the Force with as much ease as thought, and the angled blanket
smoothed and folded around them. But it comes close.
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