.
SUMMARY: Adult content, sexual situation. Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan. What
would a Jedi apprentice really do if he discovered he
was in love with his master?
NOTE: This contains a few scenes that may trouble the faint of
heart -- in the main, frank discussion of masturbation with
children, and a description of masturbation performed by an
underaged participant. It's necessary to the plot, and handled,
I believe, non-gratuitously.
ARCHIVE: Please. As often as possible and wherever you like.
The problem was, he was afraid.
A Jedi should not be afraid. Fear was a path to the Dark Side.
He'd been told that for years, and to the extent that youth
would allow, he believed it. He hadn't known much about the
Dark Side of the Force when living at the Academy -- oh, he'd
had lessons, he'd heard about it, but it was not something that
had touched him directly. He had lived with the Jedi since he
was a baby, and had never known anything but that sheltered
life.
Until he'd failed to be selected as a padawan. Until he'd left
the Academy, unknowingly at the side of the man who would be
his master. The encounter with Xanatos, a Jedi turned to the
Dark Side, had shocked Obi-Wan to the core.
But even then, for a long while, innocence had clung to him,
and his master had protected him from that which he could not
understand.
But he understood now. He was not a child, and it was obviously
time for him to begin wrestling with the full force of fear and
anger and every other negative emotion on his own. If he had
not been ready, Qui-Gon would have told him so. Obi-Wan trusted
his master absolutely.
As a padawan should. As he should.
He was under attack by his own emotions, had felt this growing
into him slowly. At first, it'd been nothing. Nothing to fear.
Qui-Gon had dealt calmly with him and his sexual awakening,
along with his training and everything else that Obi-Wan needed
to know. His master had added his own calm guidance to the
teachings the Academy had given him years before when the
pre-pubescent Obi-Wan had not yet fully understood what his
teachers were trying to tell him. He remembered now their
words. "Pleasuring oneself is natural. It is a good thing, a
thing to enjoy and a gift that can aid you in being one with
life itself. If you try to block it off or lock it away, you
are blocking off your own body's natural rhythm. It would be
like trying to stop breathing. A Jedi may, with discipline,
learn to overcome these things for a while, but breathing, like
this, is something you must do. It is, however, a private
thing. Something to do alone until you are much older. Think
and remember."
He'd spent adolescence as a gawky youth, with touching himself
growing steadily from more than just a pleasant experience to a
sometimes embarrassing and overwhelming necessity. His member
would swell against his will when he least wanted it to.
He remembered a time, after discovering his own inability to
control his erections, when he had been relaxing in their
quarters. Qui-Gon had been away, and Obi-Wan had a bit of free
time. He knew Qui-Gon would want him to use the time wisely,
but he had been unable to. Lying back on his cot, vivid
fantasies had gone through his mind. The woman who had brought
them to their room on this new planet -- her skin quite visible
through the light material she had worn, her breasts dampening
the cloth in the heat... He began stroking himself through the
rough fabric of his trousers. He was already erect. The woman's
chest dissolved into the image of naked skin, a lot of naked
skin -- he had a vivid mental picture now of his master, whom
he had seen naked many times. And that had done it, that was
enough to bring him right over the edge. He'd had to change his
clothes and shower, and yet Qui-Gon had still known. Obi-Wan
had been desperately ashamed. Only the vague memory of his
early lessons at the Academy had kept him from begging for
forgiveness, even though they also convicted him of a worse
crime. Masturbation might be all right if done in privacy, but
while he had been alone, there was little true privacy between
a master and apprentice, less so when the apprentice had been
thinking of his master and very likely, completely neglecting
to shield.
Obi-Wan smiled now, thinking of that time, and how naive he had
been. Qui-Gon had spoken to him, explaining things simply but
clearly. Qui-Gon had sat down, placing himself more on a level
with his apprentice, and then, solemnly said, "Yes, Obi-Wan, I
know what you were doing. And you were not wrong. You have done
just as you should." Qui-Gon had reiterated the lesson Obi-Wan
had received at the Academy, and then proceeded to teach him
how to shield himself better, and how to quietly alert his
master that he needed more privacy so that Qui-Gon could
himself close off, if necessary.
That had been a vast relief, and indeed, Obi-Wan had trusted
his master even more after that. An emotional bomb had been
defused.
But now... now he was an adult. And the situation he was in
now, while superficially similar, was in actuality far
different.
At 22, he was considerably less at the mercy of his physical
desires, and in any case, easily capable of finding partners if
he wished for them. Those who were not awed into fright by his
identity as a Jedi apprentice were frequently curious and
captivated by that same status.
Simple, easy sex, no trouble to obtain, and as varied as he
liked. There was little need for him to make a commitment -- he
and Qui-Gon rarely stayed in one place for very long. Even
their visits to the Jedi Academy were relatively brief.
And none of it was enough. None of it gave him what he needed,
something to fill the empty ache inside him.
He'd become growingly aware of that ache, that need. Sex did
not satisfy it, had not satisfied it for a long time. Being
among the Jedi helped. Closeness to Qui-Gon helped, too,
although his master was both more open and less open to him
than he had been when Obi-Wan was a boy. That lack of openness
was a part of training and, Obi-Wan knew, part of his own
growing up. Qui-Gon was preparing him for when he would be on
his own as a Jedi Knight, when he would proceed to the
"journeyman" level of his training. He and Qui-Gon were more in
sync now, able from long years of association, trust, respect,
and practice to mesh easily into rapport when it was
necessary... and yet that closeness, that sharing, the simple
affection that Obi-Wan craved came less and less. Treasured all
the more for it, but still rare.
It had taken him a long time to realize, though, that the
terrible emptiness inside was not because he feared leaving
Qui-Gon, or even that he wanted more affection and support than
he was getting. Not exactly.
A very long time indeed to realize that he loved Qui-Gon, mind,
body, and soul, and that his emptiness was the part of him that
desperately wanted love in return.
Fine. Just fine. Obi-Wan stretched, allowing the blood to move
more freely through his muscles and his body before returning
to his meditative trance. He had fallen in love.
He hurt. And he was afraid.
Afraid that this was something he could not tell his master,
afraid that the pain inside him was already turning him toward
the Dark Side. Afraid that Qui-Gon already knew his feelings,
and afraid that he did not. Afraid most of all that this would
change something in their relationship, would cut his master
off from him emotionally, that the Qui-Gon Obi-Wan cherished
would disappear. Or even, more harshly, that he might be given
a new master instead, and be forced to deal that way with his
inappropriate feelings. Afraid that he was only infatuated,
that he loved Qui-Gon only because they were so close, and
because Qui-Gon was the only constant in his life.
Afraid of everything.
His thoughts ran thick with mud. Obi-Wan struggled to clear
them, but he was straining them with a fishing net, and the
silt moved through, laughing at his best efforts to contain it.
He loved, and the power of it might destroy him.
Obi-Wan breathed deeply, then stood, ending his futile
meditations. He knew what he had to do.
He reached for Qui-Gon mentally. Master, I need to speak
with you.
Please come in.
Obi-Wan left the chamber allocated to him, walked through their
shared common living area, and into Qui-Gon's own sleeping
area. His master was sitting on the floor, and appeared to have
also been meditating.
"What is it you wish to speak about, padawan?" Qui-Gon asked.
He settled himself. "I am afraid."
Qui-Gon watched him quietly. An emotional wave of concern and
support came with it.
Obi-Wan needed that support, but could not afford to indulge
now, must charge forward into the fear. "I am in love with you,
and I am afraid."
Qui-Gon's support did not falter, and now, Obi-Wan let it ease
over him, taking comfort that his master had not withdrawn it,
had not withdrawn from him.
"Ah," was Qui-Gon's response. "I am proud of you, padawan."
"Proud of me?" Obi-Wan's eyes snapped up.
"For admitting your fear."
Obi-Wan nodded. He could feel that pride, and it gave
him confidence. "Yes... I... I am afraid, but I felt... that if
I gave into the fear, and let it keep from telling you, let it
keep me afraid, then..." he struggled to find words for a
concept that had seemed clear inside him although he couldn't
make sense of it now. "Then if I stayed afraid, I would always
be afraid, and there would be more fear, and I'd be afraid of
being afraid, and..." he shook his head. "I'm not explaining it
well."
"You are. Well enough. If you had given into the fear and let
it lie hidden, it would have ruled you.. It is you who must
rule over your emotions, not your emotions which should rule
over you. That is why fear is an easy path to the Dark Side,
because it is an easy Master to become enslaved to, and one
that only sinks its claws deeper when you attempt to escape."
Obi-Wan sighed, a deep cleansing breath that shook the last of
his fears loose from inside. Now he was able to center himself,
to find that point of calmness that had escaped him even with
all his meditation. "And the rest?" he asked quietly, trying to
be open, to accept what would come.
"For the rest..." Qui-Gon said slowly, "I think you know."
Obi-Wan bowed his head. Although he still felt his master's
strong support in his mind, there was nothing more under it.
Nothing more than the deep affection and confidence Qui-Gon had
for and in him. "Yes, Master, I think I do."
Qui-Gon stood, laying his hand on his apprentice's head. "I do
care about you, Obi-Wan, I always will. That much, be sure of."
Obi-Wan stood as well. He felt calmer inside than he would have
believed possible earlier. His hopes had been dashed, and yet,
his fears had not come to pass. He would not lose Qui-Gon, and
that, Obi-Wan was what really mattered to him. That acceptance,
that affection, the respect that laid between them. That was
what was important. "Thank you."
He turned to leave the room, and so did not see Qui-Gon
thoughtfully watching him go.
"'Computers are useless. They can only give us answers.' What
does that mean, apprentice?" Qui-Gon looked up at Obi-Wan who
was swinging through a complicated routine on the bars and
rings placed about the training salle, active lightsaber in
hand.
"Can't you just give me quadratic equations to solve?" Obi-Wan
panted, doubling his knees and rolling into a forward tumble.
"The object of the exercise is to get you to think, not to
recite solutions to math problems."
Obi-Wan didn't have time to laugh, but he grinned anyway. "If
that's all that you wanted, you could replace the Jedi with
droids."
"Clever, padawan, but I expect a fuller answer than that," came
the gentle, but amused, reproof.
"Yes, master." Obi-Wan swallowed the follow-up comment which
involved how exactly they were going to get the droids to wear
Jedi robes, and contemplated the koan as best he could while
simultaneously going through the training kata and attempting
not to slice himself in half with the lightsaber. To succeed at
this exercise, he had to control his body and his mind at once.
Nearly as difficult as not thinking of something, it required
that he both fully submerge himself in the Force, while still
keeping some part separate from it to respond to Qui-Gon.
"To the extent that artificial intelligence is possible, the
statement is not true. It also postulates that we ourselves are
not programmed by our own genetics and training to give
automatic answers instead of thinking."
"And?" Qui-Gon asked patiently.
What else? Obi-Wan did the reverse flip a tad too
slowly, thrown off by the intense need to concentrate. The
statement contained the obvious truth that the reason a
computer was useless was that the only secrets it held were
those programmed in it. Nothing new could come from a computer,
assuming that Qui-Gon was not referring to a machine with a
higher level of consciousness.
He had to look at the problem differently.
Obi-Wan came out of the spin too late, and grabbed hard for the
next ring in order to put himself back on the pace of the kata.
The Force was strong with his movements, and it came as a shock
when the ring tore away in his hand.
In the few seconds it took to recognize the new problem,
Obi-Wan had already turned off the lightsaber and tucked
himself into a ball which should allow him to roll and minimize
the impact of his fall.
And found himself abruptly flat on his back on the training
mat, staring up at the apparatus and what he could see of his
master's robes. His master had intervened with the Force to
bring him down swiftly and safely.
Qui-Gon extended a hand. "The next time you feel you need a
fresh perspective, Obi-Wan, I suggest you choose another method
of getting to the floor."
"Yes, master." He was being teased and he knew it. He accepted
the help and stood. The differing perspective had helped
him understand the koan that his master had posed. "The answers
that a computer may give are not the difficulty. The answers
may be useful, or may be not. But a computer cannot ask the
questions, and it is the questions that are truly useful."
"A good beginning," Qui-Gon said, then tilted his head at
Obi-Wan. "Now do you think you might answer my next question
from up there?" He pointed toward the apparatus Obi-Wan had so
abruptly left.
Obi-Wan flushed, but Qui-Gon's tone was mild. "Yes, master." He
looked up at the pattern of the rings that remained, and
replanned the kata. The fallen ring would have to be replaced
after this session, something that their hosts would probably
not be happy about. For now, though, he would need to work
around its absence. Yet another level of difficulty.
He cleared his mind, centered himself, and leapt back onto the
lower bar, swinging himself up to get the height required for
the beginning position of the kata.
In that moment between questions, a span of time no longer than
it took to swing from one bar to the next, another thought
intruded. How much he cared about Qui-Gon. His affection for
his master and for his gentle tolerance of Obi-Wan's mistakes
today. Obi-Wan had recently discussed those feelings with
Qui-Gon, and had come to peace with the idea that Qui-Gon did
not return the love that Obi-Wan felt for him. However he had
not, as of yet, come to terms with the feelings themselves.
They still existed, and while Obi-Wan no longer feared where
they might lead or not lead, he did not know a way to stop
having them. How did you stop loving someone, particularly when
they continued to be wise and generous and good?
"Tell me, padawan, what is a wise man?"
Obi-Wan did not have an answer for that, was in fact,
distracted by his feelings. He threw those feelings into the
Force, giving them up. He could not feel now, emotion would
only cloud his thoughts and prevent him from communing with the
Force, and quite possibly lead to injuries in this arena.
His emotions channeled into the Force, Obi-Wan's mind cleared.
He concentrated on the new question. What was a wise man? Yoda
was wise, everyone knew that. Obi-Wan thought his master was
wise. But what were they? They were both Jedi, but... "The Jedi
are not wise, master."
Qui-Gon did not correct him, but merely asked, "And why is
that?"
He was forced to think again. Obi-Wan separated his mind
further from his body, allowing the living force to control his
actions while his mind remained on the mental task. "A Jedi may
be wise, but that does not make the Jedi wise."
"Does that say anything about what a wise man is?"
He fit the pieces together. "Not wise because he belongs to a
group, but... wise despite it?" No, that didn't sound right.
That implied that the Jedi were obstacles in the way of wisdom.
How to rephrase it to get at what he meant? Before he was
really ready to answer, pre-empting another question from
Qui-Gon, he started off, "The Jedi are..."
And promptly lost his thought again as the bar smacked him
behind the knees, catching him too harshly. Concentrate,
blast it. Concentrate.
"Obi-Wan?"
"A wise man is someone who's wise?" he hazarded, pushing his
feelings further into the Force. He did not like doing poorly
in front of Master Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan lived for any bit of praise
given him by Qui-Gon, no matter how minor. He would rather bear
torture than bring a disappointed frown to his master's face.
Something very like the expression currently forming, Obi-Wan
noted as he whipped the lightsaber around, moving it out of the
way just as he leaped into the space where it had been. He had
no feelings, he was the Force... and the Force was very strong
with him today. He could feel it, feel how easily his body
flowed through the complicated moves of the kata. If only his
mind would get in line with his body.
If his body did so much better than his mind, then perhaps the
solution was not to block his mind from the force that flowed
through his movements, but instead, to embrace it and let it
guide his mind as well.
Obi-Wan reached out to the living force surrounding him, a
corona of power, and took it inside him.
It was him after all, in a way. He absorbed it, became one with
it, feeling it. Clarity snapped through his mental vision and--
And then something else was caught up in the Force, something
too strong for him to hold, something he had failed to harness,
and it reached out from him, seeking the ground to its power
that he was not providing...
And that was all he knew.
Qui-Gon watched his apprentice, both enjoying and critiquing
his performance. His physical skills were more than adequate,
although, eyeing the ring that had been torn from its hold,
control was still an issue. But Obi-Wan's ability to think and
yet exercise the Force still was not at a standard that Qui-Gon
could call acceptable. At least, not for today's
exercise. Obi-Wan was very good at situations that required
an immediate physical response, less good at those that
required different skills.
He hoped to address that lack... until he felt a -- Force
explosion? -- in the room. Obi-Wan's soaring form dropped as
suddenly as though he'd been lasered in mid-air.
And, unlike before, Obi-Wan was not trying to roll to dissipate
the force of the fall.
Concentrating, Master Qui-Gon reached out for the missile that
his student had become and caught him, lowering him gently to
the ground.
Only then did he permit himself to go to Obi-Wan, to see what
he did not want to see, a fragile, crushed figure. Obi-Wan
looked as though he had taken that fall unprotected, even
though Qui-Gon had caught him.
The master knelt by his apprentice, hands going on to the
padawan's head, searching for the spark of Obi-Wan's
consciousness.
And felt massively relieved when he found it, weakened, but
still there, far below the conscious level. He could have
died. He may still die, Qui-Gon thought, feeling sick, then
accepted those feelings. They would not help him to heal
Obi-Wan, but they were a sign that he cared.
He settled into a healing trance, doing his best to cushion his
apprentice's psyche. I don't want to move him until he is
less likely to suffer from shock, but this is not the place for
him to be either. No, I must take him back to our quarters as
soon as I can.
Obi-Wan awoke to the feeling of comfortable safety, and the
stiff-white-fresh smell of bedclothes that had been dried in
the heat of a summer's afternoon. 'M not on Coruscant,
then, he thought wryly, as he explored the inside of his
own head.
What happened? Why do I feel wrapped up in swaddling? And
why can't I reach out to the Force? He'd given it a
tentative probe almost automatically, his mind reaching out to
his master's as a reflex action. The attempt hurt and sickened
him, and he closed his eyes tight shut, not caring what he
remembered or not, only hoping that the pain would go away.
Then the sure tread of footsteps entered the room, and someone
was touching his face and relieving the nausea.
He didn't need the Force to know who it was. He knew the sound
of those footsteps, recognized the presence of the other
man from his smell and from the kindness of his touch --
Qui-Gon was always careful of others, as if constantly
conscious of the threat he presented as not only a Jedi Master,
but as a powerfully built man. Yet his touch now was even more
solicitous than usual.
Instinctively, Obi-Wan reached out again, wanting to feel his
master's mind, sure now that Qui-Gon was so close to him that
it would be possible -- and yet again, he failed, sagging back
into the bed, his nausea returning.
This time, Qui-Gon spoke. "Rest, Obi-Wan. You have much to
recover from."
Obi-Wan's eyes opened, confused. Again, Qui-Gon took the nausea
away, and now, Obi-Wan was able to focus. "I can't feel you. I
can't feel the Force."
"Ssh," Qui-Gon soothed, touching him again, and then he was in
Obi-Wan's mind. Is this better? Do not try to respond this
way. Just remember, I am still here. With that came a wave
of comfort and support.
"Th-thank you," Obi-Wan said, his voice shaking, nearly in
tears. "Thank you." He reached up and covered Qui-Gon's hand
with one of his own. The familiar mindtouch washed through his
last remaining barrier, and he felt himself being dragged under
by the dark tides of his own mind, demanding rest.
When Obi-Wan woke again, he felt better, enough to remember not
to reach out with the Force. He felt sick at the thought that
he might have lost his connection with the Force. He still had
it, he must have it. It was essential. A bitter, but
oddly comforting thought came to him. Why would Qui-Gon
bother taking care of a Force-less apprentice? It had been
so difficult initially to get Qui-Gon to accept him. Obi-Wan
had never forgotten how precarious his place was, by how little
he had missed being a farmer on Bandomeer for the rest of his
life. He did not fear it, but he knew what the truth was, and
refused to change his history around in his mind to make it
more palatable.
He must still have the ability to use the Force. Without it, he
would be useless. And as long as he recovered properly,
everything would continue to be all right.
Qui-Gon entered the room. "I sensed your awakening. How do you
feel?"
Obi-Wan managed a smile. "Better, master."
"And the Force?"
"I didn't want to risk reaching out again."
"I'm here now," Qui-Gon said. "If you lose control, or are
pained, I will take care of it."
Obi-Wan closed his eyes in silent agreement, his trust in his
master absolute. He reached out again for his master's mind,
wanting the reassurance of Qui-Gon's mental presence.
And it was there. The calm warmth of his master's presence.
Obi-Wan basked in it, feeling so much better just for achieving
this.
Then, strengthened, he reached out further, searching the room
for his lightsaber, finding it and bringing it to him. He had
it in his grasp, was drawing it to him, when Qui-Gon spoke.
"And what is a wise man, padawan?"
Part of Obi-Wan continued to pull the lightsaber toward him,
while the other part tried to answer the question.
Until an echo of the force he had felt before his accident
spiked through him, and startled, Obi-Wan dropped the
lightsaber, dropped all concentration, shut down, his chest
heaving as though he'd been working out for several hours
instead of resting here in bed. "Master...?" he began, alarmed.
"Be calm, Obi-Wan. I suspected as much. I believe it is a
side-effect of the original event, and something that will heal
in time. I had hoped not to see it, but had felt that such a
trauma would not be so easily dismissed."
"What trauma? What happened?"
"What do you remember?"
Haltingly, Obi-Wan did his best to recall the last few things
in his memory. "I... was on the bars-and-rings. You'd asked me
a question that... that I couldn't answer. Was having trouble
answering. I couldn't think, and so I..." He frowned, trying to
dredge up the memory. "I don't know what I did. It was like I'd
tapped into some kind of power I didn't know I had and I wasn't
prepared for it. That... that's about it."
Qui-Gon nodded. "Do you know where the power came from?"
Obi-Wan shook his head. "No. I mean, it felt like it was mine,
like it came from me, but I can't understand how it got
there..."
"Have you been channeling your feelings into the Force of late?
Releasing your emotions into the outlet that the Force can
provide?"
To this, Obi-Wan nodded shakily.
Qui-Gon waited for a moment, and when his apprentice did not
elaborate, asked another question. "What kind of feelings were
you channeling that way? Fear? Anger? Other emotions?"
His master's voice remained calm and soothing, and Obi-Wan
responded to it. "I... they were..." He closed his eyes as
though that would make it any easier, unaware of the hollow,
despairing lines of his face. "They were my feelings for you.
The ones you don't want. I could... get rid of the fear. I
understand that you don't have the same feelings for me. I can
deal with that, have dealt with that. But," his hands clenched
in the bedclothes, "I can't stop having those feelings.
I've stopped being afraid of them, and, and it's almost like
there's more of them. I gave them over to the Force. I
thought... I guess I don't know what I thought," he continued
miserably. "It was obviously a bad idea whatever it was."
"It wasn't the right idea," Qui-Gon said, no feeling of
judgment coming from him, "because you could not control
it. Do you understand?"
Obi-Wan shook his head.
"The energies you put into the Force can become greater than
you are. Those energies seek a conduit for release. A small
amount is used in Force-based meditation, a larger amount in
training exercises like this afternoon's, and a still larger
amount when you are doing something greater than your own
physical abilities. Say, landing a freighter using the Force. I
hope that this does not come as a surprise to you."
"No, I knew that, but--"
"But there is a limit to the amount of power that a person can
channel through their body. You were using the outlet of
physical exertion to dissipate that power, but the back-up of
power had become greater than you could handle."
"It exploded, didn't it, master?"
"Yes."
"I apologize, master. It is entirely my fault."
Qui-Gon's mouth quirked. "No, it is not. I should have realized
what would happen if your feelings could not be reined in.
Blocked emotion is nearly always a flaw for a Jedi. You've
merely found a unique way to be destroyed by that flaw. You are
fortunate to have survived."
"And what... what if it happens again?"
Qui-Gon's face seemed dark to Obi-Wan. "There are a number of
techniques passed down from Master to Master throughout the
history of the Jedi. It is... not unusual... for a padawan to
have feelings of romantic love toward their master. In many
cases, it is simple transference. The master is the closest
person to the padawan, and in the developing age a padawan is
in, a sexual or romantic interest is common. Such things are
easily dealt with."
That's not how I feel, Obi-Wan thought.
Qui-Gon simply went on, ignoring Obi-Wan's mental comment if he
had heard it at all. "Even if the feelings seem to be true, the
easiest way to defuse such an emotionally charged situation is
to remove the padawan from it and put them into a different
situation where they see more people of their own age and
relative standing."
"Even if it means leaving their master?" Obi-Wan asked, an ache
beginning in his chest. Was Qui-Gon leading up to this? To
telling him that he, Obi-Wan, would be left at the Temple,
masterless for the crime of caring too much about someone?
Qui-Gon hesitated. "Sometimes. In extreme cases. When no other
alternative can be found."
"And what will you do with me, master?"
"For the moment, nothing. You are recovering, and gathering
enough of the Force to do yourself harm should be beyond your
capabilities for now. In the long term... Obi-Wan, you would be
happier loving someone who isn't your master. Someone who,
perhaps, is not even a Jedi. Any bond between Jedi brings risks
even as it adds intimacy. Life with a non-Jedi would simpler,
more comfortable. As soon as this mission is complete, I will
arrange for our return to Coruscant. Giving you a wider range
of personal contacts should help."
Obi-Wan's chest really hurt now. "I love you. I'm not going to
stop loving you, and I don't know what I can say to make you
believe that."
"I believe that you believe it, Obi-Wan. I always have. Trust
in that."
It was too little, but Obi-Wan was exhausted, and he knew he
could not sway his master, not on this issue. Perhaps not on
anything until he recovered more of his strength.
And his self-confidence. "Yes, master."
"I'll be close by." Qui-Gon stroked his cheek, then stood and
left the room.
A sob worked its way out of his throat, and Obi-Wan remembered
being 13 again. Remembered the anguish of being passed over,
remembered not being chosen, and indeed the crushing of his
heart again and again until he had finally accepted that
Qui-Gon meant it when he said that Obi-Wan would never be his
apprentice.
Sorrow. The crushing weight of loss. And the knowledge that he
was not good enough, would never be good enough.
He'd come to terms with his own inadequacy then.
It haunted Obi-Wan even now. Again, Qui-Gon did not believe.
Didn't believe that his apprentice could see love when it was
plain before him, and choose it for himself. And, indeed,
Obi-Wan admitted, it was the simple truth. For Qui-Gon believed
he was inadequate, too. Obi-Wan knew it.
Qui-Gon was not a demonstrative man. He never had been. From
the very first, when Obi-Wan had not even been his apprentice
yet, he had been like this. Obi-Wan remembered fighting against
the draigons, aware that he would die, and at peace with it.
Qui-Gon had joined him then, to fight alongside him, but no
word of praise passed his lips. Not then, and later... a small
word, yes.
Everything he had done had been a cause for reprimand when it
came to Bandomeer, even that final moment when Obi-Wan,
convinced that the only way to save the miners was to sacrifice
himself, offered up his own life.
That the incident caused Qui-Gon to take him as his padawan,
Obi-Wan was grateful. That perhaps the Jedi had simply taken
pity on Obi-Wan's overwhelming eagerness had also occurred to
him.
He was not good enough. If he were, Qui-Gon would have told
him. If he were, then Qui-Gon might love him.
Obi-Wan's lips lifted in a smile. He was lying to himself
there. No, even for his best efforts at the Jedi arts, Obi-Wan
would be rewarded with a slight smile, or if, by some rare
chance of the Force, Obi-Wan should surpass himself and be
extraordinary, a brief caress.
Qui-Gon was everything to him. Obi-Wan wished that he could
somehow please that desperately private man, somehow connect
more fully. If not with his love, then in some other way, and
ease this aching pain that Qui-Gon had left in his wake
tonight.
Feelings of unease woke Qui-Gon. Automatically, he centered
himself. The feelings continued, despite the dissipation of his
dreams, and Qui-Gon knew then that they were from Obi-Wan.
He focused on his padawan. Had he relapsed? No, his physical
state was weak, but fine. It was Obi-Wan's mental state that
had alerted him. Obi-Wan was feeling inadequate. Feeling that
no matter how good he was, he was not good enough to be a real
Jedi.
Concerned for his student, Qui-Gon readied himself to send
support through the bond they shared as master and apprentice.
But he waited a few moments to see if Obi-Wan could handle this
on his own. The boy was good, very good, and Qui-Gon felt sure
that any doubts he could have would be easily soothed. It would
help Obi-Wan's recovery if he felt able to cope with small
difficulties on his own.
He was rewarded a minute later when Obi-Wan's thoughts
re-centered around the thought of living up to his master's
standards.
Qui-Gon smiled, pleased. The boy was humble -- something his
previous apprentice had rarely been. A good quality. One that
Qui-Gon encouraged. It was also good how Obi-Wan set such high
standards for himself. Obi-Wan tended to meet to meet those
personal standards. A rare pupil, indeed.
He sent his student a wave of concern and support and then
closed his eyes.
Obi-Wan felt the support and groaned mentally even as his
wounded psyche basked in it. I just woke Master Qui-Gon up
with my pathetic thoughts. Wonderful. And he knows I'm so
incapable of handling my problems, he instantly throws a mental
blanket over me, as though I were five and afraid of the
lightning.
Obi-Wan took a deep breath, and positioned himself to meditate.
There was no way he would be able to sleep with his mind in its
current turmoil, and he refused to keep his master up any
longer with his lack of emotional control.
He took another deep, cleansing breath, and surrendered himself
to the trance.
Qui-Gon's eyes opened in the darkness, as more of Obi-Wan's
thoughts and feelings leaked through to him. His apprentice had
gone into meditation, giving himself over to the Force again,
something Qui-Gon both approved of and disliked. He approved of
Obi-Wan taking the time to meditate and clear his thoughts, of
the care Obi-Wan put into important decisions. But at the same
time, it was too soon for him to be giving his emotions over to
the Force again. The scars from the incident in the training
arena had not yet faded. To continue in the same actions that
had caused pain was dangerous. That way laid draigons.
Disturbed, Qui-Gon sat up, legs folding underneath him.
Am I doing the right thing for him? I can't respond to him.
He'll quickly realize once we return to Coruscant and actually
stay there for a while that there are other people more
attractive than his aged master. This cannot be serious, can
it?
He tried to determine what his thoughts were upon returning
home to Coruscant. Awe, disbelief? No, Obi-Wan decided, more of
a feeling of disconnection, as though Coruscant were only
another planet, and not a very interesting one at that.
Looking out at the endless urban sprawl from the shuttle
viewport, he tried to summon up feeling. Tried to make coming
here mean something. Coming to Coruscant, center of the galaxy,
gem of the republic, the home of the Jedi temple.
But, no. He couldn't. Immensity lay between himself and that
industrialization outside the window, an immensity he had no
idea how to bridge.
An immensity that had been there ever since his master had told
him he was being taken back to Coruscant. Being freed to spend
more time with others of his own age. Being freed to let loose
of his feelings about his master... and to be freed of his
master if he could not let them go.
Obi-Wan felt no pain. The wound was too deep for tears, and
indeed, after meditating on his master's decision, he had at
last been able to put the pain away from him. Recognize the
pain, acknowledge it as an alert that he had been hurt, and
then let it go because it had served its purpose. He had
acknowledged... and afterwards, coming out of that trance, had
found silence wrapped around him like a cloak, the immensity of
that emptiness a barrier against the world. It held like the
strongest shield. His master could not, or would not, penetrate
it. And Obi-Wan was inside, still the same person, but altered
by that silence, by the sense that he was not part of the
world, but his own self, separated, and acting alone.
The shuttle landed in the space allotted for the Academy's
transportation needs, and he and Qui-Gon debarked.
Obi-Wan automatically used the Force to block out the noise
buffeting at his ears. He thought perhaps his master was trying
to say something to him, but in the wind and the howl of
traffic on this dark afternoon, Obi-Wan did not try to listen.
Qui-Gon did not try to make a mental contact, and Obi-Wan
supposed that he knew the reason for that.
Coming through a door, they entered the Academy proper, and as
it shut, the noise cut off.
"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon asked.
"Yes, master?"
"As I was trying to say, you are welcome to use our quarters
until you can make other arrangements, but I feel it would be
best if you were to find other quarters for the duration of
your stay here."
Your stay, Obi-Wan noted the pronoun, even as he
digested the content of Qui-Gon's statement. As a student,
Obi-Wan had shared quarters with the other children. As a
Padawan, he shared his master's quarters during the usually
brief times that they were on Coruscant. It was a convenient
arrangement, one shared by most Master/Apprentice pairs. For
Qui-Gon to request this... well, yes, it was more of what his
master had been trying to tell him, that Obi-Wan needed to be
separated, needed to give up on his useless feelings of love.
That this was the first thing out of his master's mouth...
Obi-Wan bowed his head. "I understand, master. If I have your
leave, I will take care of that now."
Qui-Gon considered him, then said, "As you wish."
He bowed his body, and then turned away, leaving his master --
his ex-master? -- behind in the hallway.
This was the beginning of the end.
The next morning, Obi-Wan woke alone, in a nearly silent room.
Only the hum of various mechanicals disturbed the absoluteness
of the quiet. There was no sound of another's breathing, no
presence sharing the room with him.
He sat up, mind reaching out automatically to Qui-Gon.
His master was there at the other end of the link. But Qui-Gon
answered his light probe with a gentle rebuke. I do not
require your presence, Padawan. Enjoy yourself. I will call if
I need you.
And then the connection was severed, leaving Obi-Wan alone,
almost at the point of despair. He was being abandoned, he knew
it.
Abandoned, and yet... if he felt so deeply about being apart
from his master, felt such deep emotions of loss and pain, then
that was all the more proof that he was endangering his
training by having these feelings at all. He knew he depended
on his master, but didn't this despair mean that his dependence
was unhealthy? Did the ache of loss inside him indicate some
failure that could be used as a weakness by the dark side?
Obi-Wan ignored the bath facilities, ignored that he was only
wearing a light sleeping robe, and knelt down near the bed,
already easing himself into a meditative trance. He needed to
center, needed to root out his weakness.
Qui-Gon closed off their connection with regret. He was certain
that Obi-Wan's remoteness meant nothing good, but then, was it
not one of the better ways to handle his situation? It's
difficult for him. He feels he needs me. And I would like
nothing better than to go to him, and allow him to retake his
place by my side. But is his need simply what any apprentice
might feel if cut off from his automatic source of guidance and
support? Or is it the reaction of an addict who has just had
this supply of drugs removed, and who must now endure a painful
withdrawal? Or is it something else? Qui-Gon did not know,
and disliked that the only way he could know for certain was to
put Obi-Wan through this. At least he is here, on Coruscant.
If I cannot shelter him, there are others who can and will do
so. He will not be left alone.
He felt the brush of another mind on his own, from a visitor
standing outside the door to his chamber. He responded the same
way. Please, come in.
Mace Windu entered, ducking his head under the low lintel.
"Qui-Gon Jinn."
"Mace Windu," Qui-Gon acknowledged.
"I have given much thought to your request." He paused, as if
waiting to see if the other master would offer a comment, then
went on. "I feel it was wise of you to return here with your
apprentice."
"Thank you for confirming my judgment."
"I have made arrangements to see that other masters are aware
of his situation. In particular, Jar-es Bith, the master in
charge of training this fourth, and Etil."
"Ah. I was not aware that she was available again."
"Yes. despite all her efforts, her charge succumbed at last to
old age. She was, however, able to hold the Exalted Panjah on
this plane long enough to ensure the succession."
Qui-Gon inclined his head. Etil was a noted healer, strong in
the Force, and Jedi-trained as well. A rare exception to the
structures of the Jedi system, she was both master and healer.
Most healers did not have the time outside of their demanding
profession to be a Jedi master as well. Etil lacked that time
also, but she had been called -- and she would accept nothing
less than to serve to the fullest of her abilities.
Mace Windu continued. "They will keep watch for signs that he
requires aid. Your apprentice is in good hands."
"Ah, yes. My apprentice."
The Force, and trained experience, enabled a sensitive listener
to gauge what deeper levels might exist in a conversation, and
what they meant. "You have a reason to feel that Obi-Wan is no
longer to be your apprentice?"
"I am not sure. I..." Qui-Gon hesitated. "I have felt the
compulsion to withdraw from him further than I already have
done. I... I have told him of some of the methods that might be
taken to deal with his feelings. Of this first step, and that
finding him a new master might be necessary."
"You told him nothing of the other possibilities that lie
between those two?"
"No. Somehow I could not speak of them."
Mace Windu went very still. "If that is how it is, perhaps you
are right. Perhaps the Force is speaking to you, telling you
that you must leave the boy."
Qui-Gon smiled sadly. "Perhaps. But tell me then, why does the
thought hurt so much?"
"I don't know." Mace Windu regarded him closely, even while
Qui-Gon looked away. "Study your own feelings. I begin to think
that it may not only be the apprentice who requires guidance in
this matter."
Qui-Gon nodded somberly.
When Obi-Wan finally left his quarters, he was surprised by an
ambush. Another Jedi, lurking in wait for him. She leaned
against the wall across from the door.
"Can I be of some assistance?" he asked cautiously.
The other Jedi, a small blonde woman with an engaging smile,
nodded to him. "Obi-Wan Kenobi? I'm Etil."
"Master Etil. I've heard many good things about you." He'd
never met her before, but he knew her by her reputation, which
was formidable. That she had obviously sought him out was both
pleasing and ominous. Pleasing that he had not been left
entirely on his own, but ominous in the speed with which events
were moving to separate him from Qui-Gon.
"I'm sure that only half of them are true. The rest?" She
sniffed. "Complete fabrications. Have the morning meal with
me?"
He could say no, but he hardly wanted to. His life was being
changed, and refusing to cooperate with that change could only
make it more painful. There was nothing he could do. Protest
would not change Qui-Gon's mind -- Obi-Wan knew the other Jedi
better than that. And it would only serve to showcase Obi-Wan's
own immaturity if he did. As in all other things, acceptance
was the key. Accepting the stab through the heart, and only
then would he be able to heal from it. "Yes, thank you."
Still, he had no wish to wait. He understood the value of
patience, but disregarded it now. He couldn't move forward if
he didn't know where to step. "What is going to happen to me,
do you know?"
Etil tilted her head, as he fell into step beside her. "I
imagine you'll eat, and unless you eat too much and get a
stomach ache, you'll be full and have had a nice breakfast."
"That's not what I meant."
"I know." Her eyes turned serious. "You're so anxious to leave
Master Qui-Gon then?"
No! "I only want to know what the future holds."
"I'm not a foreteller. A healer, yes. But not a foreteller."
Obi-Wan was frustrated now, but tried hard not to show it. "I
mean.. obviously something going on. You came to see me for a
reason. You had to. So something's going to happen to me. I
just want to know what it is. I feel so helpless," he admitted,
surprised to hear the words coming out. "Things are happening
around me, and I'm not in control. I'm piloting a crashing
ship, and I've been blindfolded."
She stopped in the corridor, taking his hand. "I don't know,
Obi-Wan. I cannot tell what I myself am not aware of. What I do
know is that you are here to heal, and that I will do
everything I can to help you in that process.
Obi-Wan remembered the fall he had taken during training, the
fall caused by his losing control of the Force. That must be
what she was talking about. "I've recovered from that. I'm all
right."
"Are you?" She smiled lopsidedly. "I don't think that you are."
"What do you mean?"
She dropped his hand, moving hers to center over his heart, and
then to his head. She did not touch him directly, but instead,
her hand hovered over his body. "You carry much confusion,
Obi-Wan. Stress, undealt-with emotion, and something more.
Something that disturbs me more than all the rest." She dropped
her hand and reopened her eyes, which had closed to slits
during her examination of him. "Has it occurred to you that it
may be the world that is out-of-step, and not you?"
"I don't understand."
"I know. It's all right. Let's eat."
With that, she led him to the dining hall. Obi-Wan looked
around for his master, but did not see Qui-Gon. He must be
dining in his room. He felt inexplicably sad at being
unable to see him. They'd been apart less then twelve hours,
and he was already finding the separation difficult.
The food was plain, but good. Obi-Wan was accustomed through
years of practice to eating anything that was presented to him
with a smile and words of appreciation. It would not do, for
example, to insult important personages by refusing to eat over
a matter of mere culinary distaste. A Jedi respected other
cultures. Obi-Wan smiled when he remembered a feast several
years ago now. The image came to him -- Qui-Gon calmly eating
what looked like an eyeball, and then turning to him and
advising him to eat his own, as it was delicious.
Etil noticed his brief moment of happiness. "Feeling better?"
Her voice reminded him of his present circumstances, and the
smile faded. "I don't know."
"Good answer. 'I don't know' is much more encouraging than
'no', you must admit. Leaves more room for adjustment. A
moving-forward mindset."
"Forward into what?"
"I don't know. You tell me."
He looked down at his plate.
"It's up to you, you know. The next few weeks are your own. The
training master expects to see you on a regular basis, but
other than, you are free as anyone can be. Barring an attack on
Coruscant, you have time to do as you please."
"Time, yes. Freedom, no."
"And what do you want to do that you lack the freedom to
pursue?"
I am wishing for the stars. "Nothing that I can have.
What I can have, I don't want."
"And what is that?"
He considered her carefully. He doubted that she was asking out
of casual interest. No, her appearance at his door had been
deliberate, and her role here was official. She was taking an
interest in his health -- as much emotional as physical, he
decided -- and if he could talk to anyone, it would be her. He
doubted it would be anything she hadn't heard before. Etil had
been a master longer than he had been at the Jedi temple.
Longer than his entire life span. "I'm expected to find an
appropriate partnership. To fall in love with someone of my own
age and my own general rank, what of it I have."
"That shouldn't be a problem," she observed. "You're a
good-looking boy. You shouldn't have any trouble finding
partners."
"I don't want partners. I want..." He shook his head. He
couldn't find a way to say it, not without sounding foolish. He
wanted Qui-Gon. Or thought he did. Just saying it in his head
sounded ridiculous. How could he aspire to love his master? How
could he be so certain that Qui-Gon was the answer, was his
answer? The answer -- he wasn't sure. Not even enough to say it
to himself. "I want something more than just someone to go to
bed with. Perhaps I can have nearly anyone, but I don't want
anyone. I want..." He struggled to find words for it, some way
to make sense of it. "I want someone special. Someone who
matters, who I matter to. I want it to be more than a passing
fancy."
"You can find that, as well. You're about the age where people
start looking for commitment. It probably wouldn't be for
forever, but people your age don't know what forever means
anyway."
"No, I suppose you're right. I have no concept of forever. I
must not, because I feel that that's how long I'll hurt like
this."
"You won't. It'll pass."
"I know. I'm not sure I want it to."
She didn't react with shock to that most un-Jedi-like
confession. "Some people think that living with pain is the
only way to know that they're real."
"I know I'm real."
"Good. It's always nice to know what's truth and what's not.
Acting upon lies and shadows and pretense is rarely a good
idea."
He had no angry outburst to stifle, although he understood her
implications. She meant that he could not or was not discerning
the truth from the muck surrounding him. "It may all be based
on pretense. I know he cares about me, but he's told me that
it's only so far. My feelings... I feel them, I know they're
real. But I don't know whether there's anything more than
wishful thinking to back them up."
"Your affection is genuine," she observed. "There's nothing
wrong with affection."
"But there is something wrong with love, isn't there?" Obi-Wan
flung at her. "No one's said it directly to me, but I can hear
the obvious. It's wrong for me to feel love, and I should just
stop feeling this way. Or if I can't, then I should find
someone else to take it out on. Someone else to love."
"Love is, you know, more flexible than you may think. When
you're young, you imagine that there's one true person for you,
and that only that person will do, but the truth is that many
people will do just as well, and that love is more a matter of
choice than of destiny or magic."
He stared at her.
"Yes," she continued. "That's the truth. You may love Master
Qui-Gon with all your heart, but as real as that emotion feels,
there are others you could love just as well, with little
trouble. It's a matter of choice, and you've chosen to love
him. You can choose to love someone else, and will probably
have equal success. Or even more, if the other person returns
your affections."
"But... but you can't... I... the bond we share..."
"Is something that a Master and Padawan share. And something
that lovers share, at least, those who possess the powers of a
Jedi. But having one does not automatically mean that you are
the other. Else I would find myself training padawans for the
rest of my life." Her eyes twinkled at him. "Or, for that
matter, my apprenticeship would have been greatly extended."
"No... I suppose that's true." His assumptions were shattering
around him. Obi-Wan didn't know what to think now. Maybe she
was right. Maybe Qui-Gon had been right. He had mistaken their
bond and Qui-Gon's affection for him for love, and had
erroneously grabbed onto that as true love, when in fact it was
nothing of the sort. Perhaps he should try to find someone to
love who was not also his master.
Seeing the look in his eyes, Etil was content. Standing up, she
crossed to him and put a hand under his elbow. "Come. I'll
introduce you to the training master. You've got a lot to think
about."
"Let's see what you can do, eh?"
And with no more warning than that, Master Jar-es Bith launched
into the beginning movements of the Grand Dance.
Obi-Wan's lightsaber was in his hand before he'd consciously
reached for it. If he'd had the time, he might have felt brief
panic that the training master had selected this routine to
test his abilities with. Normally, it was performed only
between matched pairs -- those who had been working together
for a long time and who were bonded mentally, close enough to
sense their partner's moves and anticipate them.
But there was no time, and Obi-Wan reacted rather than acted.
They were starting at half-speed, not the slowest that the kata
could be started at, and Obi-Wan gave himself over to the
Force, allowing his consciousness to merge with it, and draw
from it.
He could dimly sense Bith, and what Bith was doing. It was not
closeness, not a true bond, and Obi-Wan felt crippled by the
difference. Oh, he could see well enough what Bith was doing,
but the Grand Dance was not about what you could see, but
rather about everything you could not see.
Obi-Wan disregarded his unease as irrelevant, and found himself
easily dropping into the rhythm of the Grand Dance, flowing
with it, and with Master Bith. Instinctively he reached out to
the master for guidance, and met with a natural shield.
Of course. They didn't have the bond that he and Master
Qui-Gon had. Jedi shielded naturally as a matter of training.
Only a deliberate link between he and the other could have
changed that. But the barrier was not still so strong that it
prevented him from knowing what Bith was about to do. Less
clear than what he would have received from Qui-Gon, a complete
bonding of two minds until it was one mind moving in two
bodies, it was still enough to allow him to anticipate and
respond.
Quickly, Master Bith took them up to full speed, performing the
Grand Dance at the level it should be performed at. Obi-Wan's
body was a blur, his mind busy calculating trajectories and
angles while it simultaneously remained at rest with the Force.
And then the exercise came to its abrupt halt, and Obi-Wan was
bowing to the training master, even as the master bowed to him.
It was done.
Master Bith looked him over, more approving now. "You've got
the speed and the moves. It'd be a waste of your time to put
you in with the regular apprentice crowd. They're running
through the basic stuff, keeping themselves fit while their
masters are on other business. Not at your level."
What? Obi-Wan wondered. Not at his level? He wasn't that
much better than any of the other apprentices, was he?
"I can tell you've worked hard to get to where you're at.
You'll want to be improving on that, not just holding in place
where you are. And you're going to need individual instruction
to do that. Tell you what, I'll put you on the roster. With me,
unless you favor another of the other masters. I've got the
least time, but then, we don't get many apprentices through
here who have a need for advanced work."
And who aren't with their masters, getting that work,
Obi-Wan heard, clear as though it had been spoken. Not that
Master Bith had spoken it, mentally or otherwise. But Obi-Wan
understood the message anyway, and once again worked to control
the shame he felt at having been sent away by his master.
"That will be fine. Thank you," Obi-Wan said.
"Good. Come by, then, say the second quarter hour after the
noon meal, and we'll see what we can do to improve your
skills."
"I will be here, Master Bith."
"Tomorrow, not today."
"Yes, Master Bith."
"Good." The training master narrowed his eyes, done with what
he had to say officially but not yet dismissing Obi-Wan.
"You're not comfortable with working with someone other than
your master. You should be. Maybe that's all you'll be doing
until and if you pass the trials and become a Knight, but
working with others -- even non-Jedi -- is a valuable skill.
And I think you can learn it."
"I meant no disrespect for your teaching," Obi-Wan said
hurriedly.
"No? Well, then, be off with you. Tomorrow is soon enough."
Obi-Wan bowed again and made his way from the salle. What did
the training master mean by that? Why had he said it? Obi-Wan
knew that he'd have to fight alongside those other than Qui-Gon
-- he'd done it in the past. Rarely with other Jedi, he
admitted, as one master was considered enough to handle any
problem up to and including planetary disintegration, but with
civilians, yes. Numerous times.
He didn't get it.
But, for now, it didn't matter. As far as he knew, he had the
rest of the day free. Master Etil had not been waiting for him
outside the training salle, and barring any other unexpected
visits, he was at loose ends. She'd said that he was free other
than training with Master Bith, and he was reasonably certain
that she would know, despite her evasiveness to his questions
about what was going to happen to him. Continuing his work-outs
and working on his mental discipline were the things he knew he
needed to do, and both masters had already taken their places
and responsibility for that. There was nothing else he
absolutely had to do.
He decided not to return to his quarters. All he could do there
was brood, over-intellectualizing his feelings until he no
longer knew what anything meant nor even why he was alive.
Turning around, he headed back toward the salle and the showers
there. He would clean himself up, and then go looking for
others his age.
It would keep him from thinking too much, and, sad as it was,
it would be another step on the path Qui-Gon wanted him to
walk.
A path he would walk, for his master's sake, even though he had
no idea where it might take him.
The door chimed.
Qui-Gon went to open it, and was surprised to see Etil on the
other side.
"I need to talk to you," Etil said.
"Please come inside." He motioned her to take a seat.
"Thank you." She sat down at the small table in his room, and
he seated himself across from her.
"What did you wish to discuss?"
She snorted. "I shouldn't be talking about this with you. If
anything, you don't need to be worrying about that boy."
Qui-Gon interpreted 'that boy' to be his apprentice. "But...?"
"But you need to hear this, and I need some answers."
"I would be pleased to answer any questions you might have."
"Good. How long has this insecurity problem of his been going
on?"
"Excuse me?" Qui-Gon wondered momentarily if they were talking
about the same padawan. "I don't know what you're talking
about."
"Obi-Wan," she said impatiently. "The boy's got an insecurity
complex a sector wide. And you didn't notice?"
"Obi-Wan has always been humble..." Qui-Gon said.
"Humble? Light! The boy's so self-effacing I'm surprised he
doesn't offer to lie down on the floor and then beg you to walk
on him. He thinks you're the wisest person he's ever met. You
can do no wrong."
"A common misapprehension for apprentices," Qui-Gon commented
quietly.
"Yeah. So it is. But this is different. He doesn't have any
confidence in himself. None."
"I find that hard to believe. Obi-Wan is skilled at most ever
what he puts his will to. He has some shortcomings, but then,
that is what training is for. He is a superior padawan."
"Well, he doesn't know that. He's convinced that you can't
possibly love him because he's not worthy of you."
"That's... that's absurd."
"Yeah, but try telling him that. That's why I came to you. I've
got a very messed-up boy on my hands. The problem isn't what
you thought it was. Or maybe it is, but it's so intertwined
with this other problem that trying to fix the first is making
the second worse."
"How is that?"
She gave him a disbelieving look, colored by overtones of 'How
could you not see this?' "Simple. He loves you. You
dealt with it by separating him from you so that he could see
that he isn't really in love with you. But when you did that,
you also gave him the message that he isn't good enough to be
loved."
"That is... unfortunate," Qui-Gon said, choosing his words
carefully. "I had hoped that this could be an easy transition
for Obi-Wan. However, pain can be an inevitable part of the
process of change."
"Whatever. The fact of the matter is that he needs you to love
him." She waved an impatient hand at him when his face changed.
"Forget about him being in love with you. He needs your
approval, and he doesn't think that he has it. It's love that
he wants, and, assuming you do care about him, that's
not something that you should have a problem giving him. Or do
you have a problem with your apprentice that I should know
about?"
"No. I have always cared for him..."
"Good. That's a place to start. What I've got to do is to
somehow disentangle the threads. Cut the knot without breaking
the boy's spirit. He's gotten the notion of romantic love mixed
up with unconditional love, and while it's right that the two
should be separate, particularly when you do not share his
feelings, it's going to be messy."
Of course, he didn't share Obi-Wan's feelings. He loved his
padawan, but it was only what any master might feel for his
apprentice. A bond of affection, trust and respect that had
started out years before and would continue for years more. So
why did it bother him so much to hear that Obi-Wan might be
broken in the process of straightening out his emotions? "I do
not wish harm to come to Obi-Wan."
"You've already caused harm, Qui-Gon. I'm just doing my best to
heal it. Even if it means taking the boy apart and putting him
back together again. His emotions need to be dealt with, and
will be. But what about yours?"
"My emotions?"
"Yes. What do you feel for the boy?"
"I... I'm very proud of him. Of his accomplishments. He's a
good apprentice, and will be a fine Jedi Knight, and even a
master, when the time comes. He has a compassionate heart, a
willing spirit, and is strong with the Force."
"Great. Now I know as much about the boy as I could see with my
own two eyes. What do you feel about him?"
At the moment, confused, he admitted to himself. "I care
about him."
"Yeah, sure." She stood, and stared at him for a long moment,
her eyes on a level with his as long as he remained seated.
"Examine your emotions. Especially think about why it is that
you've been withholding yourself from the boy, and what you
think you're trying to achieve by sending him away. I could use
you to help him heal, and rebuild your relationship as well,
but I'm not going to even try that unless you're willing to be
upfront about what you feel. As it is, I'll heal him without
your assistance, but you may not like the finished product.
Right now he needs you desperately -- but when I'm finished
with him, he won't need you. He'll be able to stand on his own,
as the man he ought to be, not the emotional cripple that he
currently is. Think about that."
She stalked out without a word of leave-taking.
Qui-Gon sat back, stunned by her visit. Master Etil certainly
spoke ... bluntly about what she believed. Had he been
hurting Obi-Wan? And if so, what should he do about it?
It seemed likeliest that he should take no action at all. Etil
was a healer, and Qui-Gon trusted her abilities. If she said
that Obi-Wan was wounded now, and could be put back together
into a healthier person, then Qui-Gon believed her. Who was he
to interrupt the work of a healer? Especially when he had no
idea what he hoped to gain by such interruption. It sounded as
though the best thing for Obi-Wan was to let Etil heal him, let
him be purged of his insecurities. Qui-Gon had no right to
interfere with that, and further, no desire to make matters
worse by doing so.
Sore at heart, he thought for the first time about the other
ways he could have handled this situation. He could have
accepted his apprentice's desire, and integrated it into their
bond, allowing it without encouraging it, using his own
strength to support Obi-Wan's inexperience in handling his
emotions. For some reason, that course of action felt wrong, as
though it were the first step toward allowing Obi-Wan entirely
inside his heart, rather than the sensible response that it
was. Which excluded the other ways of handling the situation,
all of which would have exposed Qui-Gon further, would have
sliced open his deep reserve.
But still, would any of the other methods of dealing with a
padawan's attraction for his master have been more appropriate?
Probably. Even allowing Obi-Wan to find another master might
have been better than this if it were true that he had
inadvertently hurt Obi-Wan by pushing him to enhance his own
natural qualities of humility and submission.
The one thing in the world he wanted to do the least was to
hurt his apprentice. Ever. He cared too much for that.
And yet it seemed that everything he had done for the best of
intentions had served only to wound Obi-Wan, and now, in his
selfish desire to avoid facing his own feelings toward his
apprentice, he might have delivered the most final cut of all.
Qui-Gon lowered his face into his hands, sadness overflowing
within him.
Go on to part 2
Go on to part 3
Go on to part 4
Go on to part 5
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