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Title: Chosen to Love
Author: Merry Amelie
Archive: MA only
Category: Angst, Qui/Obi, Romance
Rating: PG
Summary: The aftermath of the Council scene
My MA story page: http://www.masterapprentice.org/cgi-bin/qs.cgi?keyword=Merry+Amelie
Feedback: Is treasured at MerryAmelie@aol.com
Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
For
My beta team: Nerowill, Emila-Wan, Carol, and Padawan Sue
Mali Wane for posting
My former betas: Alex and Ula, who inspired this story
When Qui-Gon put his hands on Anakin's shoulders and took him as his Padawan Learner in defiance of the Council, a flash of startlement was all that showed on Obi-Wan's face. He'd immediately raised impenetrable shields, but not before Qui-Gon felt a surge of disbelief, anger, and jealousy, all commendably released into the Force.
In that split second, Obi-Wan was open to him as he had never been before. He'd expected Obi-Wan to feel like an unwanted apprentice, but what he had broadcast in that instant was the agony of a jilted lover.
Obi-Wan loved him. As more than a Master, more than a friend. Qui-Gon was more startled than Obi-Wan had been. He'd never expected his feelings to be reciprocated, let alone revealed so suddenly.
Qui-Gon looked into his eyes, searching for the love he now knew existed, but found only acceptance and a stoic resolve. Green, blue, grey -- the palette of Obi-Wan's emotions was beyond his grasp, now that the Moment had passed.
Qui-Gon was awestruck. He'd just destroyed, albeit inadvertently, his Padawan's dreams of a future with him, but Obi-Wan had immediately rallied in support of his cause. His apprentice was Jedi to the bone.
When they left the Council chamber, Qui-Gon sent Anakin off to the Healers, and set out for his quarters with Obi-Wan. They walked silently, hoods up, deep in their own thoughts.
Obi-Wan made caf, the only edible thing in the kitchen after their mission, reaching for the cup he'd crafted for Qui-Gon in pottery class when he was fourteen. When he gave it to his Master as they sat on the couch, they shared the first look since the volatile gaze in the Council. And it was equally charged.
"I'm sorry, Obi-Wan. This is not the way I wanted you to find out that you're ready for your Trials."
"Am I ready, then?" Obi-Wan asked calmly.
Qui-Gon fought to hide his wince. "I'd planned on recommending you after you'd completed your finals next month."
"Close enough," Obi-Wan said wryly.
Qui-Gon acknowledged the hit with a nod, just as he did in their sparring sessions. "Anakin must be trained. All of that power uncontrolled is a frightening thought."
"He's not ready for a Master yet. He needs to be taught the basics first."
"I agree, but he is not welcome here. I hope taking him myself will change that."
"I'll help you." Obi-Wan gave him a compassionate smile.
Qui-Gon had to look down. He had diminished the last twelve years in the heat of the moment, yet Obi-Wan treated him with the kindness he himself had not shown in the Council chamber.
"Thank you, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon knew that he had lost the right to call Obi-Wan "Padawan" now. "You already have, when you stood by me in front of the Council."
Obi-Wan nodded gravely. "I do understand how important he is." 'To you' went unspoken.
Qui-Gon heard it anyway, despite Obi-Wan's faultless shielding. "There is someone even more important to me, Obi-Wan."
No shielding, even Master Yoda's, could hide the fragile hope flickering in Obi-Wan's eyes.
Qui-Gon gambled it all, true to his nature in this, above all things. "I love you, Obi-Wan."
Obi-Wan's cup dropped to the rug and rolled, its contents as scattered as his thoughts.
From the worst experience of his young life to the best, in the space of half an hour. The Master had dropped his shields with his pretenses. No need for clarification, no need for assurance.
Obi-Wan beamed at the outpouring of emotion hidden for years, and shed his own shields, this time intentionally. Though the words were paramount in his thoughts, he said them anyway. "I love you, Qui-Gon."
Happiness, satisfaction, and an irresistible sense of rightness flowed through them, unchecked by propriety or the Code, as they'd been for years.
Mouths, heretofore in service of teaching and diplomacy, finally met in an onrush of joy, a Forceful fusion.
The Chosen One had already brought balance to their lives, their calling strengthened by love. Working together to train him, an evolution of the past twelve years, would inspire a new hope in them all.