The Chest

by Ladyserez



Disclaimers: Everyone mentioned here that belongs to Lucas, Stars Wars, LucasFilms, whatever-belong to him. Not me. (Although I'd really like Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. The younger one, I mean.) <g> However, Cirra, Silverhawk and Sarai Firedancer belong to me. Whoa, this is one of the faster stories I've ever written. I think it's the depressed Obi-Wan talking. I want the horny one, but I'll take the other one.

Summary: Han and Luke gets a mysterious chest from one of the Jedi Knights, a woman known as Sarai Firedancer from Trioli. In opening it, they discover more about the life of Ben Kenobi.

Rating: PG for Public Display of Affectations and hints of M/M sex. (Han/Luke and Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan)

Archive: Please do. Thanks!



"Look, a letter and a box from Sarai. Wonder what she've sent us this time?" Han waved the flimsie at Luke.

Luke looked up at Han, pushed away the pile of paperwork growing on his desk, and smiled. "Let's hope it's not more lube. I don't think I could take more teasing from the other Jedi."

"Yeah. Sarai's the only Jedi Knight I know that knows profanity in at least 20 languages...or was it 30?"

"I think it was 25. Or something like that. Wasn't that last curse a Wookie one?"

"Chewie says it was. And I believe him."

The two men started to laugh, counting on their fingers. "23, 24, 25, 26...let's ask Sarai the next time we see her," Han said, flopping down in the chair next to Luke's desk. "Good idea. Maybe this flimsie will tell us something. Two heads, one light, one dark, bent together to read Sarai's letter. It said,



"Dear Master Luke.

It's not lube this time. I promise! And Han, stop snickering. It doesn't become you. Anyway. Remember how you said there had to be a Jedi Academy before Palpatine, Master? So I decided to ask around, see if people remembered where it was. Good thing I did, because there was a Jedi Academy. You'll never guess where it was, Master. Corusacant. That's right, smack in the middle of the city. That big ugly statute of the not-so-dearly-departed old bastard? It was right under the pedestal. Symbolic, innit? When they tore it down, they found something that looked like it used to be a school. They left it alone because they were too busy with other things...like closing down all the *&(*^) torture centers Palpatine had all around the city. So, I went there and checked it out. That's when I found...well, I'm not sure how to explain it. Except send it to you on Yavin. I've got more stuff on the Silverhawk, heading home to you. But...I thought you'd want to see this in private. It's not exactly the kind of thing you want to show the Alliance. It's....it's about Obi-Wan Kenobi. Open it, and you'll see what I mean.

Sarai Firedancer.



Luke looked up in surprise, shook off Han's questioning arm, and walked over to the table. On it lay a simple wooden box, with beautiful designs on the sides. He gently lifted the lid, and a musty smell emerged, testimony of how long it had been hidden. Carefully, he lifted out various objects. A old lightsaber. A lock of braided hair. A piece of dark brown fabric. And lastly, a letter. No, two letters.

"Here, Han. Read one, and I'll read the other. Out loud, if you don't mind..."

"No. No, I don't. Hali! This is old. Must be before the Clone Wars..."

Luke smiled. Then started to read.



"Master Qui-Gon,

Long have I desired to see you. Long have I desired to touch you. My soul is incomplete without you. The promise I made to you, Master, when you lay dying from Darth Maul's blow...I have broken it. In my anger and jealousy, I have broken it. Anakin....the Chosen One, for which you had such great hopes, has turned to the Dark Side. I sit here, on Aldaraan, writing this. For soon I will place it in the box with your lightsaber and my Padawan braid. Failed you I have. Master Yoda...he knows. I know he did. And you do too. Why else would you not appear to me? Why else would I not feel you around me? I loved you more than life itself. If I could have, I would have taken the blow from Darth Maul. We have one more hope, Master. The boy, Luke Skywalker...Anakin's son. I will watch over him, make certain he will survive. And then, one day, he will come. He will be Master Yoda's Padawan, not mine. I will begin it. Yoda will end it. And maybe...you will forgive me. How I loved you. How I hope you will forgive. But if you do not..I will live with it. I have lived without you those last years.



"Poor bastard. He felt like he had failed everyone, even someone who was already dead, Luke." Han shook his head. "You think this Qui-Gon forgave Kenobi?"

The other man was silent. "Kid? Come on, let's just.."

"Read the letter you have, Han. See if Qui-Gon did forgive his student." Han's head jerked up. He stared at Luke, then at the letter in his hand. Then he looked closer. "That Sarai.. is this a prank?!?! I'll kill her if it was!"

"You know Sarai, Han. She may like to curse, she may like to fight, but play pranks-that's more Cirra's style. And I know Cirra can't read or write Standard, Han. Go ahead, read."

"What about the lube?"

"That was my fault-I asked her to get more. And Sarai's attitude is, why get one tube when you can get a whole box of them? Less trouble that way."

"Yeah, but a crate full?"

"Read, Han." A faint smile on Luke's face.



"My apprentice.

Oh, my apprentice. You could never fail me. Disappoint me, maybe, but never fail me. The first time I saw you in the practice room, I knew you would be the one for me. As Padawan, but I never dared hope you would desire me to be more to you. The night you came to me was the most...wonderful night of my life.

Yes. You have disappointed me greatly, Obi-Wan. But it was my mistake, asking you to take a child as Padawan that you were jealous of, a child you felt I loved more than I did you. I don't know why....you felt that way. Perhaps because I..was so emotional about Anakin, when I was not over you. I did not want you as my Padawan at first, and you knew it. That small seed of rejection was planted in you then, I fear, and it bloomed when Anakin came into our lives. Secretly, you wondered what Anakin had that you did not.

Obi-Wan. You didn't just fail Anakin. I failed you both. I made mistakes with you, mistakes I see now. I made mistakes with Anakin as well. I should have...so many should'ves, so many ifs, so many...

What can I say to assuage your feelings? Nothing, I fear. In you will always live the thoughts, "Did he really love me? Did he care? Or was I just temporary Padawan for him until Anakin?" Irrational, true. But love and jealousy is rarely rational. But believe me this, if you believe nothing else---I love you. I always have. And I always will.

Qui-Gon Jinn"



"Damn. He did forgive Ben, but did the poor guy ever know?"

Luke quietly and carefully took the letter from Han, and placed both back into the small chest. Finished, he lay down on the small cot he used when nights grew too long for him to go back to his quarters.

"Come on, Han. Lie with me. I need...warmth. After those letters, I need warmth."

Han wasn't about to argue. Quickly, he laid himself down on the cot, with his back to Luke. "Me too, Kid. Y'know, at times like those, I'm glad I'm not a Jedi." A puzzled look from Luke prompted him to go on. "'Cause, you know, you people keep everything inside. I know that's the Jedi stuff you do, but...it seems to me sometimes like you could use a dose of honesty. True honesty. Know what I mean, Kid?"

"Yes. I do. And you're right. We do control our emotions a great deal, because that's how we reach the Force. Through serenity and peace. But there's a price to be paid for that."

"They paid it, Luke. Promise me...don't ever do that to me. Don't do what Qui-Gon did to Ben. If you've got something on your chest, get it out now instead of chewing on it for the next 20 years."

"Deal."

"Deal."

The two men, tired from the emotions roiling in them as a result of the letters, went to sleep. They weren't aware that a younger Obi-Wan Kenobi stood over the chest, reading the letter Qui-Gon had left for him.

"Master....." he whispered. "You never forgave me." Tears streamed down his face.