Winter

by MonaR (aka Mona Ramsey, aka Mona) (monaram@yahoo.com)

Fandom: Star Wars: The Phantom Menace

Pairing: Qui-Gon Jinn&Obi-Wan Kenobi [Qui-Gon/ Mace Windu, Obi-Wan/OMC]

Series: Although it would fit beautifully into my "Master&Padawan" series, this is actually the second story of a new series, simply called "Seasons" (and Sasha's fault). Posted after "Autumn", it is chronologically set two years before that story.

Webpage: the bare skeleton of one is at: http://www.geocities.com/monaram/

Rating: R.

Warning: Slash (m/m) content. Although the slash content of "Winter" is only implied and not at all explicit, Obi-Wan is 17 in the story.

Archive: Yes to StarWarsfic, M_A, or anyone else who might want it.

Notes: I don't use betas. :( Any mistakes are solely my fault and the fault of my *#^&@ spellcheck. ** is used for emphasis, // for thought. Any weird characters should be hunted down and killed.

Feedback: Yes if you're moved to write me by the story, no if you think that unless you write me, I won't write any more stories. Anyone with even a glancing knowledge of my posting history (this is my 400-and-something-th story) knows that isn't true. Feedback is gratefully accepted and responded to whenever possible. Flames are buried in the backyard, along with a few skeletons.

Spoilers: No.

Summary: Qui-Gon seeks a way to help his Padawan through a heartbreak.

{I should call this the "Atypical Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan Stories", but that's just silly.

I had a medley playing for this story: BNL's "What a Good Boy", Chantal Kreviazuk's "Before You," and Garth Brooks' "Lost in You". I'm nothing if not quirky. :)}

"Coruscant to Qui-Gon, come in, Qui-Gon."

The Jedi Master started, then looked down at the game-board set up on the table in front of him. "Is it my turn?"

"For ten minutes, now," Mace Windu replied, with a broad grin. "I thought that vacant look meant you were planning over some intricate move, until I realized that you were staring not at the board, but at my left foot."

"And how could you tell that?" Qui-Gon asked, as if prepared to deny all knowledge of what his friend was saying.

"I started doing this," Mace said, wiggling his foot, "and your head bobbed along in time."

Qui-Gon had to laugh. "Sorry. I'm a little distracted, I guess." He stood up, taking his glass from the table. "Would you like another drink?"

"If you have some more brandy, I'd love one."

"Of course." Qui-Gon poured amber liquid into Mace's glass, and then into his own. "What time is it?" he asked, casually.

"Fifteen minutes later than the last time you asked," Mace replied with a grin. "It isn't as though this is the first time that Obi-Wan's been out after dark, Qui-Gon. I'm sure that they'll be back soon."

"Mm," Qui-Gon agreed, absently, and sat down again. He lifted one of the carved chess-pieces from the board in front of him, and then put it down again when he realized he couldn't make a legal move with it.

"He's seventeen. You're going to have to cut the cord eventually."

Qui-Gon gave his friend a sharp look. "I'm not his mother," he said, pointedly.

"And we all thank the heavens for that."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning that for someone who makes an enormous fuss whenever someone suggests you might have some unresolved feelings towards your Padawan - "

"I do not - " Qui-Gon started.

Mace held up a hand. "You see what I mean? Okay, you're not in love with him, and you aren't his mother. So what's with the distraction tonight? He's been on dates before, and you haven't been nearly this distracted."

Qui-Gon's anger diffused, and he sighed. "I think he's in love."

"That's wonderful," Mace said, and then frowned. "Isn't it?"

"I'm not at all sure that Oliva has the same feelings that Obi-Wan has. They are good friends, and they have recently - deepened their friendship, all of which would be fine and healthy, except - except that I'm certain Oliva is not in love with Obi-Wan."

"Ah," Mace said, shaking his head. "And you're afraid he's going to get his heart broken."

Qui-Gon nodded. "He's just a boy."

"Just barely," Mace said. "You've stood by and watched all of his other mis-steps, Qui-Gon, without interfering. Believe me, I know," he chuckled. "I've heard about half of them from Obi-Wan himself."

Qui-Gon gave his friend a fleeting smile.

"And you've always known," Mace continued, "that you cannot shield him from hurt."

"Yes," Qui-Gon nodded. "I let him break his fingers and his concentration, I let him experience the pain and embarrassment that we all go through to learn how to heal ourselves and become stronger. I have watched him fall and have physically restrained myself from reaching out to catch him. But this is his heart, and his first love."

"And you never get over your first love," Mace said. He leaned forward in his chair, and reached across the board to clasp his friend's hand. "But, sometimes, something very special can be forged even from a disastrous first love affair."

Qui-Gon smiled. "I wouldn't call it 'disastrous', exactly," he said.

"You weren't the one with the unrequited feelings," Mace said, quietly.

"Would you have preferred not to have had the affair at all?"

"No. Someone had to be the first to break my heart. I'm glad it was a friend, rather than someone who didn't care for me at all."

They sat in silence for a few moments, cloaked in memories, and then Mace broke their hands' grasp and stood up. "I should be going. Somehow, I don't feel like beating you so badly anymore. I'll come back after you return to Coruscant; by then I'm sure I'll have my fighting urge back."

Qui-Gon laughed. "I look forward to it." He walked the Knight to the door. "Speaking of Padawans - " he asked.

"Do not go there," Mace groaned, and raised a hand to stop Qui-Gon from speaking. "I'm actually looking forward to Mikan hitting puberty. This pre-adolescent phase is killing me."

"Well, you know that it's only going to get worse from here," Qui-Gon said, his eyes twinkling suspiciously.

"Thanks a lot," Mace said. "Do me a favour, and remind me not to come back here for a pep talk."

"Good-night," Qui-Gon chuckled.

"'Night," Mace replied. "Try not to wait up for him too long, Qui-Gon," he added, and took his leave down the quiet hallway of the mostly- sleeping Jedi Temple.

Qui-Gon tided the room up, washed the glasses he and Mace had used, and set the chess board out of the way, where it wouldn't be upset accidentally before they could resume their game. He re-set the chrono, which was off by fifty-three seconds, checked his alarm, and even took another stab at his quarterly evaluation of Obi-Wan.

Three-quarters of an hour later, there was still no sign of his Padawan. Resisting the urge to sigh again, he instead laughed at his own rather obvious and futile attempts to distract himself, and dimmed the lights as he headed for bed.

Mace was right; Obi-Wan was only barely still a boy, and, just to look at him, anyone would have taken him for a man. He was tall and extremely self-possessed, quiet, studious, and just a little too serious, sometimes. That facade had crumbled over the past few weeks, however - the budding relationship with Oliva had either shifted or demolished a great deal of Obi-Wan's emotional shields. His eyes lit up at odd moments, and, although his concentration on his studies did not waver, Qui-Gon knew that there was more on his young apprentice's mind than there had ever been before - and much more in his heart.

It had been a shock for Qui-Gon to find the young men together; he still remembered exactly the tangle of bare limbs, dark and pale, that he'd seen in bed the morning Obi-Wan 'accidentally' and uncharacteristically overslept and missed breakfast. It had been a blushing and wildly embarrassed Padawan who hastily dressed and found Qui-Gon in their shared common room moments later, while Oliva slipped quietly out the door with only an apologetic nod. Obi-Wan attempted to explain what had happened, before Qui-Gon stopped him and explained that it was perfectly natural and all right, while adding a joking comment that no matter the lateness of the hour when he fell asleep, he was still expected to awaken at the regular time in the morning. Obi-Wan blushed scarlet and mutely agreed, while Qui-Gon checked his laughter until he was alone, some twenty minutes later.

It was the last time he'd entered his apprentice's bed-chamber without knocking first.

Since then, the two Padawans had spent nearly every evening together - some even in the common room of Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon's chambers, talking with Qui-Gon and the one or two other Masters who occasionally dropped by after the late meal. Qui-Gon had ample opportunity to observe the two of them together; in Obi-Wan he recognized a new-found passion, the heady blush of first love, and while Oliva truly loved his friend, it was painfully obvious to Qui-Gon that he had no thoughts of this affair being anything more than that - pleasurable, but fleeting. Obi-Wan was oblivious to this, and had already made some small noises about perhaps not going on all of their assigned missions - ostensibly to concentrate on his studies at the Jedi Temple, which he had previously neglected in favour of hands-on experience in the field. While Qui-Gon agreed that it was not necessary that Obi-Wan always accompany him on trips off-world, that was merely one aspect of a larger problem.

Truth be told, Qui-Gon didn't want to leave Obi-Wan alone, to come to the end of this affair alone, with no support. There were many people - Masters, friends - who Obi-Wan could go to in times of need, if Qui-Gon were not available, but none of them could take the place of his own Master. Obi-Wan already had a tendency to absorb his hurts in silence and internalize them, pushing them down and away until they did not hurt quite so much, busying himself with work and training. Although he'd overcome his youthful tendency to sudden anger, Obi-Wan still had a problem dealing with grief without resorting to self-recrimination.

Still, Qui-Gon could not neglect his own responsibilities simply to oversee his Padawan's love-life. A shuttle would take him off Coruscant in the morning, to a diplomatic mission on a world a day's travel away. The mission itself should take no more than three or four days, but Qui-Gon knew all too well that it was often a single instant that made a difference in a life, especially a young one.

He tried not to listen for the swish of the outer door as he checked over his travel-bag and itinerary, but finally could not justify staying awake any longer, and pulled back the bed-clothes, settling in for what was sure to be a restless night's sleep.

So shallow was Qui-Gon's sleep that the swish of the door when it came, about an hour later, woke him easily. He resisted the urge to get up, not wanting to interrupt Obi-Wan and Oliva again and make it seem as though he'd been waiting up. Instead, he tossed and turned for twenty minutes, before finally throwing back the covers and getting up. Sleep was not to be his, and there would be time enough to rest on the long trip tomorrow.

He put on robe and slippers and went out into the common room of the chamber for a cup of tea and to attempt some more work. What he found there startled him: Obi-Wan was sitting in his chair, so recently vacated by Mace Windu, head resting on his knees, an unreadable expression on his face.

Unreadable to anyone else, that is.

Qui-Gon moved towards the kitchenette, and filled the kettle. By the time he had the cups ready and spooned out tea into a small pot, it whistled. He added honey and lemon and brought the two cups to where Obi-Wan sat.

Obi-Wan took one without a word. Although the light was still dim in the room, it did not hide the pained look on his face, nor the over-pale skin. He clutched the cup like a lifeline.

Qui-Gon watched him, waiting for Obi-Wan to speak. He sipped his tea, grateful for the small warmth that spread through his body in the chill room. The silence, normally a comfort between them, grew long and heavy, charged with Obi-Wan's ill-concealed hurt.

Finally, Obi-Wan stood, full teacup still in his hand. He stared into it as he said, "Master, I believe I will accompany you tomorrow. With your permission, of course."

"I will be happy to have you at my side, as always, Padawan," Qui-Gon said, quietly.

Obi-Wan nodded. "I should go get my things ready. I'll have to contact the Masters - "

"I'll leave word with Master Yoda that you are coming with me," Qui-Gon said. "That will be enough."

Obi-Wan nodded again. He hadn't yet looked at his Master at all.

Qui-Gon thought that lack of eye-contact might be the one thing keeping the young man from a breakdown. He once again marvelled at Obi-Wan's commanding emotional control, and despaired of it, wondering how he could break through the wall his apprentice was surviving behind this time.

The door-chime startled them both. Obi-Wan froze, so Qui-Gon stood up to answer it.

Oliva betrayed a sliver of panic when faced with the hulking Master rather than Obi-Wan, but Qui-Gon's smile soothed him. He handed over a book, and said, simply, "Could you give this back to Obi-Wan for me, please?"

Qui-Gon nodded. "Of course. Is there any message?"

Oliva opened his mouth, then shook his head. "No. No message."

Qui-Gon wasn't surprised to find the room empty when he closed the door again. He'd heard the swish of Obi-Wan's bedroom door as soon as he'd opened the outer chamber door. He knocked and waited for the "come in" before he entered. "Oliva asked me to give this to you," Qui-Gon said, handing over the book.

"Thank you, Master," Obi-Wan said, and carefully set the book, as though it was made of sharp glass, on the desk in his room. He turned to the open travel bag on his bed, and continued to fold and pack his clothing and personal items into it.

"Obi-Wan - "

"I'd rather not have a lecture, Master, if you don't mind," Obi-Wan said, tightly. "I know I'm young, I know it was only a crush and I know that I will get over it. I promise that you will hear nothing further from me about this matter during our mission. I will do my best not to embarrass you, so if that's all you wanted to say, I've said it for you." He continued to efficiently pack his bags, his anger and shame showing in his quick movements, his flushed cheeks and too-bright eyes. He would not look at his Master.

Qui-Gon stood still for a moment, then turned and prepared to leave. Just before stepping through the door, he turned his head and said, "What I was going to say, Padawan, was that I'm sorry."

Obi-Wan, who had his back to the door, stopped, motionless. Qui-Gon waited until he saw the nod of his apprentice's head, and then left the room.

The mission was, like so many, neither success nor failure. It was, instead, hours of tiring diplomatic work for little discernible return - although the representatives of both sides grudgingly agreed not to go to war, at least for the immediate future. How long this new-found resolve would last, no-one knew.

Obi-Wan behaved impeccably the entire trip. He was aware and efficient, helpful, and offered well-thought-out opinions when Qui-Gon questioned him. He was the ideal Padawan for such an endeavour, a fact that the Council knew when they assigned this trip to Qui-Gon.

They talked, but there wasn't time for anything in-depth or personal. Days were full and they both slept soundly, exhausted, each of the four nights they spent on the planet. It was not until the trip back to Coruscant that Qui-Gon had a chance to spend any real time alone with his apprentice.

The ship they travelled on had several stunning viewports which showed the dark, mysterious expanse of space through which they travelled, on their way back to Coruscant. Qui-Gon watched it, remembering when he was a boy and looked up at the night-sky, sure that one day he would know all the mysteries it held. Then he looked at his Padawan and knew that the vast fields of uncharted stars were far less enigmatic and unknowable than the human heart.

"Master?"

"Yes, Obi-Wan?"

"Why do you always watch through the ports whenever we travel, Master? It's always the same."

Qui-Gon looked at his thirteen-year-old Apprentice, staring at him with questioning eyes. "Because," he said, simply, "I want to understand the questions, Padawan."

Obi-Wan nodded at him, sagely.

Qui-Gon laughed; it was obvious that Obi-Wan was both bewildered by his answer and resigned to the fact that it would be yet another of the things that he'd just have to figure out on his own. Only - perhaps not this time. "Look," he said, and pointed out the port; Obi-Wan followed the path of his hand with his eyes. "There is more space out there than anyone will ever be able to chart for a hundred lifetimes, and it is all different. Some people look at such a great, unknowable expanse as a failure on the part of humanity - as something that we will never truly be able to understand. Those are the men who seek only answers, without understanding the importance of the questions."

"You mean, the questions are more important than the answers, Master?"

Qui-Gon smiled. "Exactly, Padawan."

"Then why seek knowledge?"

"We need to seek, to explore, to expand; everything that we find out there," Qui-Gon pointed out the window, again, "helps us to understand something in here," he put his hand over his own chest.

"Even if we never find the answer?"

"Especially then. Then we are reminded that some things cannot be defined or explained; they simply are."

"I think I understand, Master," Obi-Wan said, slowly. "But how do you know when the answer to a question is simply that there is no answer?"

"That is something that men far wiser than I have puzzled over since time began, Padawan," Qui-Gon laughed. "That is the greatest question of all."

"Perhaps, when we become one with the Force, then we will understand all the questions, Master."

"Perhaps we will," Qui-Gon agreed. "I hope so."

Obi-Wan was on the floor, meditating. Qui-Gon took turns watching him and the stars out the view-port. Finally, when he could wait no longer, he knelt down beside his Padawan.

Obi-Wan's eyes opened. "Master?" he asked, with a frown. "Is there something you wanted?"

"Yes, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said. "I want you to tell me what question I should ask, that will allow you to let me in. I haven't been able to figure it out on my own."

Obi-Wan said nothing.

"I thought about asking if you are okay, but it's obvious to anyone who knows you that you are handling yourself admirably. I considered asking what happened with Oliva, but that really isn't any of my business, and my knowing wouldn't help you. I'd like to ask how you are feeling, but I don't think that you know that yourself, do you?"

Eyes closed, Obi-Wan shook his head. "I hurt," he said. "And - I'm angry."

"And scared?"

Obi-Wan nodded.

"And you feel bad for Oliva, too?"

"How did you know?"

"Because I know you, Obi-Wan, at least a little bit, and I know that you are a compassionate man." Neither remarked any surprise at how easily the word 'man' came out of Qui-Gon's mouth.

"Master?"

"Yes, Obi-Wan?"

"Does it always hurt so much, to be in love?"

"Sometimes," Qui-Gon said. "Not always." He cupped Obi-Wan's chin in his hand. "There isn't anything I can do, is there?"

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, Master, there isn't. This is one of those questions that have no answer." He chuckled, a little. "I'm not even sure what the question is, yet."

"You'll figure it out."

"You really think so?"

"Eventually," Qui-Gon said. He got to his feet. "I love you, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan smiled. "I know, Master."

Qui-Gon nodded, and left his apprentice kneeling on the floor, to find his questions on his own. The Master himself sought out another viewport on the ship, one that would offer him silence, and solace, and peace.

The End