ARCHIVE: M_A if you want it, and
http://www.slashcity.com/ciceqi/Believe.htm
PAIRING: Q/O
CATEGORY: Preslash?, First Time?, Angst! (at least I'm sure
about the angst...heh...)
RATING: PG for implied m/m stuff
DISCLAIMER: STOP! Wait a minute Mr. Lucas / Please please
please please Mr. Lucas / Please Mr. Lucas look and see / If
there's a Jedi in your bag for me...
SPOILERS: None. Takes place preTPM.
NOTES: for Mac's first line challenge on M_A. I really
shoulda been sleeping tonight...
SUMMARY: Rumors are flying.
FEEDBACK: greatly appreciated...
"Obi-Wan, no one is going to believe that we're lovers,"
Qui-Gon said gravely, holding his Padawan's eyes with an
unwavering stare.
"Force, I hope not," Obi-Wan muttered, pausing in his pacing of
the ambassadorial suite. Wrapping his arms tightly across his
chest, Obi-Wan rubbed absently at his arms as if chilled, and
the sight of his Apprentice so deeply agitated by the
mere suggestion of such a thing was a wrenching pain in
Qui-Gon's heart.
Keeping his expression level by main force of will, he took the
hurt and the bleak despair that he felt and released it into
the Force, so smoothly it created not a ripple of disturbance
in the room. It was no more than he'd already known, after
all...he'd lost nothing by this unthinking confession, because
he'd had nothing to lose. Nothing had changed, except hope was
gone.
"Who would've spread that kind of rumor, anyway?" Obi-Wan
demanded, turning on Qui-Gon with a frustrated glare.
"I honestly don't know, Padawan," Qui-Gon said quietly with a
helpless shrug. "It seems to have made the rounds of the
Padawans first, though...I only heard from Master Gerint this
afternoon, after all, and Bant--"
"Force, don't remind me," Obi-Wan groaned, rolling his eyes
heavenward as he stalked away again, pacing to the tall, arched
window and back. He'd wear a path in the rich carpeting if he
kept it up, Qui-Gon mused distractedly as he wrapped a cocoon
of distance around himself for his own protection. "She's the
last one I expected to believe this...nonsense," Obi-Wan
grumbled, and Qui-Gon was inordinately grateful that Obi-Wan's
back was to him so his Padawan couldn't see him flinch.
"If it's any consolation," Qui-Gon forced himself to say, "I
don't think she truly believed it of you, Obi-Wan--or why would
she have been so upset that you hadn't told her?"
"You have a point, Master," Obi-Wan sighed, pausing again to
stare morosely out the window. "I just can't believe another
Padawan would have done this. Of all the sneaky, underhanded
attacks..." Qui-Gon swallowed hard, his flayed heart dying
within him as he watched his Padawan's silent struggles.
Obi-Wan dropped his head, leaning his brow wearily against the
glass and staring out over the verdant Angkaran city spread out
below them, and Qui-Gon wished with all his heart that this
horrible rumor had never started--not only for himself, but for
the true misery it seemed to have sparked in Obi-Wan.
"I think...maybe I should meditate for a while, Master,"
Obi-Wan said at last. "I'm afraid I don't feel particularly
serene at the moment..."
"A wise choice, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon agreed mildly, proud that his
voice remained steady. "Shall I expect you for evening meal?"
"I...I'm not sure, Master," Obi-Wan raised his head with a
hesitant frown, as if afraid of disappointing him. "I'm
sorry..."
"Don't be. This is an uncomfortable situation for you, I'm
sure. We can talk more later, if you'd like..."
"Thank you, Master," Obi-Wan nodded earnestly, and Qui-Gon
watched the young man walk out, spine perfectly straight,
shoulders squared. He only wished his own inner calm was a
match for his Padawan's outward display.
Three days. Three days, and they would be heading back to
Coruscant, less than a day's flight away. Angkara was close
enough for message transmissions to travel back and forth
easily between the two planets, but for once, Qui-Gon was less
than grateful for the speed of communications. Not when he'd
been shaken out of his own meditations by a wave of shock from
his Padawan so strong it had nearly sent both of them into a
panic before Obi-Wan could get his emotions under control
again. When he'd found out why...
He'd caught the tail-end of Bant's recorded tirade of reproach,
demanding to know why Obi-Wan hadn't told her of this change in
his life first--weren't they friends, after all? For a brief,
blissful instant, Qui-Gon had entertained the hope that Bant's
hurt words meant she'd known something...that there
might have been something for best friends to share about him
under confidence. Right up until Obi-Wan had expressed in no
uncertain terms his devout horror that anyone would ever think
such a thing about the two of them, Master Jinn and
Padawan Kenobi.
It wasn't so much what Obi-Wan had said about him, he
mused sorrowfully to himself as he sank into the nearest chair,
as the anger his Padawan had felt towards the gossips. He could
have taken that as a hopeful sign as well--that Obi-Wan had
feelings for him he was too insecure to approach his Master
with--except that Obi-Wan had referred to the rumors as an
attack. And a sneaky, underhanded one at that.
In the seven years they'd had together, Qui-Gon had grown
comfortable in the glow of Obi-Wan's respect and affection,
knew the unconditional love he felt for the young man
was returned measure for measure. He understood intellectually
that Obi-Wan's dismay at the rumors was in no way a slur on
Qui-Gon himself. It was, perhaps, the horror of a son who'd
been mistaken for his own father's paramour, that of a man
whose most trusted companion had been used against him somehow.
Just because Obi-Wan found the concept of a romantic
relationship with him patently unthinkable...
//Foolish old man,// Qui-Gon sighed to himself as he bowed his
own head, staring at his hands. They were strong hands still
and would remain so for many years yet, Force willing...but
they were not a young man's hands. In truth, strength was all
they had to say for themselves: they were a gardener's hands,
however well they cupped the hilt of a lightsaber, not an
artist's hands, not the hands of a man of rank or wealth.
Trying to imagine his hands on Obi-Wan's sleek flesh, testing
the flex of muscle, finding the places that sang most sweetly
to his desire...it was wrong, somehow, like a farmer fresh from
the fields with a paintbrush in his hand, pretending he was
someone he wasn't.
Whoever had spread this rumor, they had done Qui-Gon a favor,
in a left-handed fashion. They'd brought him to his senses
after years of lunacy. Obi-Wan would never see him like that.
He should be grateful for what they had.
If only hope didn't hurt so badly when it died, if he hadn't
wanted so much to believe...
"Bant, be serious!" Obi-Wan hissed into the gurgling
peals of her mirth, glancing at the closed door of the
communications post. If his Master were to come looking for him
now...there was no way he could explain this...
"You know what happened to Laic and Master Kessian--they can
take him away from me, Bant! Are you sure you
don't know who started this thing?"
"No, Obi...I'm sorry," Bant shook her head apologetically on
the screen, sobering as the seriousness of his situation
reasserted itself. "It's just...it seemed like the perfect time
for you two to have that talk..."
"Not like this!" Obi-Wan yelled as quietly as he could,
one hand sweeping up in a vague gesture of annoyance and
frustration. "Bant, if the Council believes there's any
truth to the rumors, they'll want to call us in for a
"discussion," and you know what a terrible liar I
am...there's no way I can pretend like I don't..." He
swallowed, the words not coming half so easily now, not when
he'd felt all-too intimately how much stark terror they could
bring. "I can fool him, at least some of the time...he's
used to the training bond being wide open, so he doesn't always
look to see whether I'm letting him feel the whole...truth. The
Council isn't going to trust me like that."
"Are you so certain you shouldn't trust him a bit more,
Obi?" Bant sighed, but they'd been over this many times
already, long before this present conversation.
"Qui-Gon?" Obi-Wan laughed incredulously, his voice too weary
for bitterness. "What would he want with me? I trust him
with my life and soul, Bant...this isn't about trust. This is
about me not wanting to dump my problems in the lap of someone
who already has more than enough to worry about. Look, if you
find anything out--preferably before we have to step in
front of the Council--I'd appreciate it. If I can prove who's
saying it and why..."
"It could be perfectly innocent, Obi-Wan," his friend protested
gently, but he shook his head sharply, mouth firming.
"No," he said shortly, eyes snapping. "This is someone who
wants to cause problems between me and my Master...who wants to
split us up if they can. Tell me that's not malicious,
Bant. And trust me, when I find them..."
"Meditate on the nature of anger, you should," Bant said with a
tiny smile, doing a halfway creditable impression of Yoda as
she did.
"Yes, Master Bant," he grinned at the screen, some of his cold
fury slipping reluctantly away in the face of his friend's
worry. "Just wish me luck--or the Council won't have to call us
in. Qui-Gon will get rid of me without their help if he
finds out I'm lying to him."
And though Bant protested against that thought strenuously,
they signed off at last with a promise from Bant to be more
assiduous in her investigations--and from him to be more
careful of his shielding in public.
Even though it was probably too late for that already.
"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon frowned at his Padawan, his concern
redoubling as he forced himself to really look at
Obi-Wan this morning. Their transport was due to arrive not
quite two hours from now to take them back to Coruscant, but
Obi-Wan looked like he was heading for his own execution
instead. Qui-Gon didn't think Obi-Wan had actually eaten a bite
of the breakfast on his plate, and playing with his food had
never been one of Obi-Wan's vices. In truth, the young man
looked truly awful, the dark circles under his eyes only
increasing the misery of his stare. "What on earth is the
matter?"
He knew what the matter was, of course--those poisonous
rumors, the only thing either of them had thought about for the
last three days. Three years ago, they would have shrugged it
off with a laugh, no doubt...Obi-Wan had been completely
infatuated with the newly-discovered delights of the opposite
sex, looking no further than whichever all-too-willing Padawan
had caught his eye this time--and Qui-Gon had still thought of
Obi-Wan as a boy then, for all that seventeen was the age of
majority on many worlds.
At eighteen, Obi-Wan had begun to conquer the Knights in turn,
and it was that, strangely enough, that had made Qui-Gon
reexamine his mental picture of the boy, no longer a boy
anymore. Maybe it was wondering when Obi-Wan would seduce his
first Master, wondering who it would be. It had been fairly
easy to narrow down the field--as far as he knew, Obi-Wan had
never looked at another male that way, and with so many women
to keep him distracted, Qui-Gon could see why not. He should
have taken the hint--should have taken it as fact--but
he'd been foolish enough to wonder, until the fantasy became a
cherished dream.
Broken, now, and as much as it hurt to realize that it would
have been a nightmare for Obi-Wan, it hurt worse to not be able
to help. All he could do was listen if Obi-Wan decided
to talk and keep his own treacherous emotions under control.
"Nothing, Master," Obi-Wan answered him faintly, still pushing
his breakfast around on the plate with listless stabs of his
fork, and Qui-Gon decided he'd had enough. It was time to get
stubborn on his equally-stubborn Padawan.
"Obi-Wan, I know something's troubling you," he began firmly,
staring at Obi-Wan's bowed head until his Padawan looked
reluctantly up, not quite meeting his eyes. "You've been
worrying at something for the past few days, and if your
meditations haven't helped, perhaps your Master can." It wasn't
really an offer...more of an order, but Qui-Gon felt more than
justified, considering the state of his Padawan's spirit at the
moment.
For a moment, he honestly didn't think Obi-Wan would answer
him. Looking away, Obi-Wan set his fork carefully down,
considering the wall with every indication of interest while
Qui-Gon waited patiently. "Will we be called before the
Council?" Obi-Wan finally asked, glancing back at him with an
apprehensive stare.
"The Council?" Qui-Gon repeated with a perplexed frown.
"Because of a rumor?" Obi-Wan shrugged, his eyes dropping to
his plate again--and then it hit him. Not because of a rumor.
"Because of Padawan Laic and Kessian." Because of a
most...regrettable lapse of judgment on the part of an
experienced Master and her lovestruck Padawan. Those two had
been separated, naturally--the attachment hadn't been anywhere
near deep enough to justify the terrible example they'd set by
their public display--but it had honestly never occurred to him
that Obi-Wan would have any fears on that score.
Kessian had been unforgivably foolish with Laic--it was hard
enough for a Padawan to retain some sense of independence as it
was, despite all a Master's care, but with that kind of example
implying that a Master should be everything to a
Padawan... There were reasons for the Masters' unwritten
Code of discretion. Valid ones that Qui-Gon himself would never
consider disregarding, no matter how fast and loose he might
play with the other rules of the Order when it seemed
necessary. Kessian herself should have understood, if only for
selfish reasons--if love came to you through pressure or
coercion, how could you ever know it was real?
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan confirmed his suspicion softly, daring
to look up again, and the apprehension in his eyes made Qui-Gon
swallow a curse. Three days in hell for both of them, all
because of that idiot Kessian...
Not that he could tell Obi-Wan. Not under these circumstances.
A Padawan was only let into that circle of silence if he was
already on the inside, by virtue of love. As much as it pained
him to hold his tongue...it would be better for them all, in
the long run, if he did. When Obi-Wan became a Master, he would
understand...
"Obi-Wan, you have nothing to worry about," he smiled kindly at
his Padawan. "They're not going to separate us for something
that's not true. They may call us in to answer a few questions,
but they can't find what's not there."
Somehow, that answer gave Obi-Wan no relief; Qui-Gon could
tell. Swallowing hard, Obi-Wan whispered, "But what if there
was something there?"
Qui-Gon froze with shock, replaying that innocent sentence in
his head a second time, not daring to believe what he thought
it meant. "What...what would be there, Padawan?" he asked
quietly, praying Obi-Wan would have the kindness to answer him
truly and that he would have the strength to bear it if it was
another rejection.
"I'm sorry, Master," Obi-Wan said in a small voice. "I... Love,
Master. If they found love. What then? What would you
do?"
Love. Oh please, let this be real... "I would have to tell you
I returned it," he answered simply, his own heart lifting when
he saw Obi-Wan's face transform with raw, incredulous joy--only
to crash as rapture was replaced by horror in an instant.
"Oh Force," Obi-Wan breathed, shaking his head as Qui-Gon
stared. "I wish I'd never known...I could have...how am I
supposed to give you up now?"
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon slid quickly to his feet, realizing
immediately the source of Obi-Wan's pain. "Obi-Wan, they
will not separate us. You don't understand at all," he
reassured the young man as he came around to the other side of
the table, pulling Obi-Wan out of his chair and into a crushing
embrace. There was no resistance in his Padawan's tense frame;
Obi-Wan leaned into him without hesitation, going boneless in
Qui-Gon's arms and tucking his head under his Master's chin,
just as he had as a boy. "It's a question of appearances,
Padawan...what Kessian and Laic had...they were too casual with
it, with the ones around them. If any child ever got it into
his head that it was required..."
Obi-Wan made a helpless sound of protest deep in his chest, but
Qui-Gon sensed only agreement from his Padawan, a shifting of
that terrible sense of horror onto an entirely new subject.
"You've seen the pairs of Knights and Masters, Padawan? There's
a reason they're always assigned together, Obi-Wan. We don't
speak of it, but it's not forbidden. Love, by its very nature,
cannot be forbidden."
"So...when we return..." Obi-Wan pulled back with an uncertain
smile, the first even marginally happy look Qui-Gon had seen on
his face since news of the rumors had arrived.
"We're going to ask to see the Council," Qui-Gon grinned
back, tugging lightly on the other man's braid. "If you
wish..."
"Oh yes," Obi-Wan sighed, his smile growing as his eyes lit up
at last.
Qui-Gon didn't know why he was surprised when Obi-Wan laughed
out loud, more than familiar with his Padawan's irrepressible
good spirits. "What now?" he demanded mock-imperiously,
and it was the old, familiar impish chuckle that let him know
Obi-Wan was going to be perfectly fine.
"Well, I was just thinking, Master...we'll have the perfect
cover. If the Council doesn't separate us over this," he
smirked slyly, "no one will ever believe that we're
lovers."
Laughing delightedly, Qui-Gon decided he'd never heard anything
quite so perfect in his life.
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