Archive: Master_Apprentice, my page
(http://flame.slashcity.com)
Rating: R
Warnings: none
Category: Angst
Disclaimer: The Star Wars characters included in this story are
owned by LucasFilm. No profit is made from this story.
Feedback: Yes, pleeeez! On list or off, doesn't matter to me.
Criticism welcomed.
Summary: A missing scene from the film, specifically, what
happens after Qui-Gon admonishes Obi-Wan for insisting the boy
is dangerous, and orders him to "get on board." Tempers flare.
This is NOT your Passive!Obi fic.
Note: Bouquets of naked Jedi go to RavenD and Catnip for their
sharp-eyed betas. Their comments are much appreciated. Thanks
also to Seren, for her friendship and encouragement.
Qui-Gon Jinn strode down the gangplank of the sleek Nubian
ship, struggling to concentrate on his padawan's words despite
the piercing headache that threatened to cloud his vision.
"It's not disrespect, Master. It's the truth," Obi-Wan
asserted.
"From your point of view," the master said.
Obi-Wan pressed harder. "The boy is dangerous. They all sense
it. Why can't you?"
Qui-Gon was weary of arguing with his padawan over the
startling young boy he'd discovered on Naboo. Other issues
demanded his attention; he did not need this distraction. He
should not have to justify his actions to his apprentice.
"His fate is uncertain. He's not dangerous," Qui-Gon replied
curtly. "The Council will decide Anakin's future. That should
be enough for you. Now get on board."
The set of Obi-Wan's jaw as the young man turned and walked
away spoke volumes to the senior Jedi; the argument was not
over yet. Sometimes, Qui- Gon regretted having encouraged
Obi-Wan to speak freely, challenging ideas and actions.
Sometimes, the master wished for simple obedience.
"Qui-Gon, sir. I don't want to be a problem."
The small voice at his knee brought Qui-Gon's attention to
Anakin, gazing up at him with concern. Damn Obi-Wan for
speaking within earshot of the boy.
"You won't Ani." Qui-Gon smiled and spent the next few minutes
explaining to the child in the simplest possible words a bit
about the gift he had. A bit about the Force that thrummed
through his small body, waiting to be tapped, waiting to be
trained.
Ani listened intently. Once again Qui-Gon was rocked by the
energy pulsing through the Force, urging him to protect this
waif. The compulsion was stronger than any he'd ever felt.
Whatever the future held for the newly- freed slave from a
backwater planet, he knew he must serve as the conduit to make
it happen.
In his peripheral vision, the Jedi master saw the royal party
approaching the ship, regal gowns flowing as the women swept
along toward him. He stood, ready to resume his role of
guardian and ambassador. Qui-Gon bowed to the queen as they
met, and did his best to reassure the young woman that he would
protect her as best as he could, although in his heart he felt
she was doing precisely the wrong thing. She was putting
herself in jeopardy by attempting to return to her homeworld,
opening the distinct possibility that she could leave a planet
without a leader. A ruler in exile was better than no ruler at
all.
He withheld comment. His role was not one of counselor. His was
to protect and serve, which he would do to the best of his
ability.
It took only moments for the ship to get underway, whereupon
Amidala announced a strategy meeting six hours hence. She
wisely suggested that everyone on board who could manage to
rest should take the opportunity to do so. They might not get
another chance for a long while.
Once her highness and her entourage were safely tucked into
their quarters, Qui-Gon headed for the bridge. As he entered
the small room, he was surprised to discover Obi-Wan was not
there. Usually, the flight control center was the first place
his apprentice headed upon boarding a ship. Qui- Gon confirmed
with the pilot that all was well with the functioning of the
ship, and that at least the initial phase of their flight
should not meet any interference. Satisfied he had done all
that he could, the Jedi finally conceded to the relentless
headache, and decided to take a few minutes to lie down.
Rubbing small circles over his pounding temples as he threaded
his way through the ship, Qui-Gon wondered where Obi-Wan had
gone. He must be in their room, he reasoned.
The Jedi presented himself at the door to the quarters he had
shared with Obi-Wan on the flight to Coruscant, and was
thankful when it slid open obediently. He took one step into
the room and stopped short, for instead of Obi-Wan, he
discovered a nervous-looking Anakin.
"What are you doing here, Ani?" Qui-Gon was mystified.
The boy plucked the hem of his tunic. "Mister Obi-Wan told me
to put my things in here. He said I should bunk with you."
Despite the directive, Qui-Gon noticed, the child had not
settled into the room. A black backpack sat on the floor next
to the neatly-made bed. Qui- Gon wondered just how long the boy
had been standing there.
"Do you know where Obi-Wan is?"
"I think he's in the room I was using. Should I go get him,
Master Qui-Gon, sir?" The boy gave every sign of needing only
the slightest excuse to bolt from the room.
Qui-Gon dragged up a smile for him. "No, I'll go speak to him
myself. Are you tired? Do you want to get some sleep?"
"Oh, no sir! I'm not tired at all," the youth beamed.
Qui-Gon surmised that Anakin would have to be falling asleep on
his feet before admitting to being tired. It was just as well.
"You may go up to the flight deck if you wish, as long as you
don't bother Pilot Olie."
"Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!" He was out the door in a flash.
As small and hard as he knew the ship's bunk to be, the Jedi
master had difficulty ignoring its siren song. The few moments
he could spare at present would not be enough, he knew, to
eliminate the pain in his skull. He closed his eyes and took
several deep breaths before heading purposefully out the door.
The quarters Anakin had occupied on the trip to Coruscant were
only a few doors down the hallway, leaving Qui-Gon little time
to reflect on his padawan's odd behavior. He knocked, in case
the boy was wrong and it was someone other than Obi-Wan inside,
but the loud, clear command to open the door surely came from
his apprentice.
Eyeing the small mat on the floor, Qui-Gon gathered the young
man had been meditating or trying to but he now stood in the
center of the small room, facing his master as the door swished
closed behind him.
Qui-Gon gestured vaguely around the room. "What are you doing,
Obi- Wan? Why are you here?"
"I am trying to help you, Master." The tone of voice was
exaggeratedly polite. Too respectful.
"In what manner do you construe confusing a small boy to be
helping me?" Qui-Gon knew his tone was curt, but he didn't
really care.
"It's obvious that you wish to start training Anakin. Being
near the child will facilitate that goal. " Obi-Wan's face was
carefully controlled. "Staying here allows me the opportunity
to meditate on my connection to the Living Force, since I have
so much to learn in that regard."
Qui-Gon sighed, rubbing his eyes. Is that what this was about?
The queen, the boy, the Sith, the Council.... He did not need a
disgruntled padawan added to the list of burdens he was
shouldering. He measured his words as he spoke. "Obi-Wan, don't
do this."
"Do what, Master? Quote your own words back to you?"
"You know that is not what I meant when I spoke in the Council
Chambers."
The pretense dropped startlingly, tension whipping through
Obi-Wan's body. "Do I? I'm afraid you overestimate me, Master.
Please tell me just what it is you meant when you said that you
would take Anakin as your Padawan Learner."
Every word was needle-sharp, piercing Qui-Gon's throbbing
temples. He fought to keep his tone moderate. "Obi-Wan, I truly
believe that there is little more I can teach you. You are
ready for your trials."
"And how long did you intend to keep that your little secret? I
think it's odd that this information didn't come to light until
the Council refused to train the boy."
Damnation. He'd been waiting for the right moment. He'd wanted
to find a special time to tell Obi-Wan, but fate and the Force
had conspired to rob him of that opportunity. "Yes, Obi-Wan. I
should have spoken to you of your capability sooner, but that
is no reason to throw a temper-tantrum now."
"My 'capability?' Is that how you think of me? As capable?" The
words fell into the room like great blocks of ice.
"No, no, no. You're twisting my words." The master tried to
pace, but the room was too small. How could he explain? The
extraordinary turn of events had left him unprepared.
"There is something about this boy--"
Obi-Wan gestured wildly. "Don't you see, Qui-Gon? This isn't
about the boy. This is about humiliating me in front of the
entire High Council. This is about respect. This is about
common decency. This is about 15 years of working side by side,
sweating, fighting, enduring the worst of it all -- together.
And you sum all that up with, 'He is capable'? "
"Quiet, Padawan! You will listen to me! The Force is calling to
me strongly..."
Obi-Wan's face was red with rage. "Fuck the Force!"
"What!" This was too much. "Padawan! How dare you speak
that way?"
Obi-Wan snapped, "You heard me, Master. Fuck the Force, and
fuck you!"
"You already have!" Qui-Gon snarled.
Obi-Wan reeled backward, staring into the fiery eyes of his
master, his lover. Heavy breathing filled the room, stoked by
adrenaline and anger.
Well, what had he expected? Obi-Wan had wanted to
provoke a reaction to somehow pierce the Force-haze his master
had wrapped himself in ever since they'd arrived on Tatooine.
Maybe then he could discover what lay at the bottom of the
man's compulsive behavior.
So, he had allowed himself to become angry -- cultivated the
emotion, even, from the very real resentment he'd felt in the
Council Chambers. This wasn't at all the direction he'd
intended the discussion to take, though. Sometime during the
exchange of words, the pretense of provoking an argument had
evaporated. This cut too close to the bone. Obi-Wan was afraid
that here, there was truth.
This was real. And it hurt.
"That's when it started, isn't it? When I lay down with you.
That's when I began to lose your respect."
"Is that what you honestly think?" Qui-Gon spat back. "I
thought our relationship was strong enough to withstand a
little pressure. I never realized your ego was so easily
bruised."
"My ego!" Obi-Wan was incredulous. "What about your ego? You
know it's against the Code to have more than one padawan in
training. But the great Master Jinn can handle it, can't he?
Hmph. Even Master Yoda couldn't believe his ears!"
"My obligations as Jedi are to the will of the Force, not the
will of the Council."
"And of course, you know better than the twelve members trusted
by the Order to guide us and make decisions. You always know
best, don't you, even about training a boy the entire Council
is skeptical of."
"I thought this wasn't about the boy."
The young man bowed slightly, sweeping his arm in a parody of
magnanimity. "Forgive me. You're right. This isn't about the
boy. This is about us. It's about you losing respect for me, as
a person and as a Jedi." His eyes narrowed, and words left his
mouth before he could judge them. "I should never have had sex
with you."
Gods, did he really mean it? He had only wanted to make Qui-Gon
listen to him. Now, his life -- their life together --
was crumbling.
Obi-Wan felt himself trembling, struggled to control it, but
the stress was too much. He settled for turning and walking the
two steps to the back of the room to face the wall.
Qui-Gon's voice was brittle. "Is that what you call it? Having
sex? I thought we were making love."
"I have to admit, I was under that impression, also. But now I
suspect I have been living under a delusion."
He was there, suddenly, pulling on Obi-Wan's arm. "Look at me
when I speak to you, Padawan!"
It felt like the greatest of insults. Obi-Wan jerked away.
"Don't touch me!" he hissed.
Shock flashed across Qui-Gon's features, closely followed by
pain. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath in an obvious
attempt to center himself.
"Obi-Wan, what do you want me to say? I am sorry if you were
embarrassed before the Council. That was not my intent. I never
meant to show you disrespect. Nothing about this, not the boy,
not the Council, none of it changes the fact that I love you."
"You still don't understand, do you, Master?" Obi-Wan was
dismayed to hear his voice shake. "Tell me, what does 'I love
you' mean to you? Does it mean you have the right to throw me
over for a more promising padawan? Does it mean that you can
dismiss me with a wave of your hand? Just what does 'I love
you' mean to Qui-Gon Jinn?"
The Jedi Master looked confused. "Obi-Wan, I love you. I
respect you. I think you will become one of the greatest
knights of the Jedi Order."
"Forgive me if I am unimpressed by your compliments. You
haven't answered my question. What do you mean when you say 'I
love you'?" Obi- Wan insisted.
Qui-Gon rubbed his temples briefly, and shook his head. "I
don't know what you want me to say."
Damn, Obi-Wan thought. He knew his master believed in living in
the moment, but he'd hoped the man had given greater thought to
the future where their relationship was concerned. Could they
have been so mismatched in their expectations? Suddenly, he
felt empty. Hollow.
"That's just it, isn't it? All right. Since you seem to be
unable to see beyond the moment, I will clarify the question
for you. Does 'I love you' mean that you find our enhanced
master-padawan bond rewarding? Does it mean that I make you
horny? Does it mean that I make a good fuck?"
Qui-Gon's eyes flew open, and Obi-Wan was slammed into the
wall, his master's huge hand pressed hard against his chest.
"Enough! Stop it, right now! Do not demean our relationship
that way!"
Piercing blue eyes bored into his, but Obi-Wan persisted. "All
right. I'll make it simple for you. What about the future? What
happens to us when I pass my Trials and we are no longer master
and apprentice?"
"I don't know. We may be split, or we may be allowed to work as
a team. No matter what happens, I will still love you." Qui-Gon
did not back away, but punctuated his words with a rhythmic
pressure of his palm. Obi-Wan measured his lover's words by the
power radiating from his hand.
It wasn't enough. He stared, waiting. The big man stood closer
yet, pressing his body against him, making Obi-Wan's skin
tingle with the mixture of adrenaline, anger, and inexplicably,
arousal. He felt his cock begin to harden.
"Obi-Wan Kenobi, my love for you is not dependent on our
master-padawan bond. I love you because of who you are. Because
of your kindness, your brilliance, your commitment. Those
things will not change when you become a knight. Those things
would not change if I took another padawan."
Obi-Wan looked away, blinking. There it was again -- that
recurring prickling on the back of his neck. How could he make
Qui-Gon understand? "He is dangerous, Master."
Qui-Gon threw up his arms and stalked away. "Don't start this
again. I thought we agreed this isn't about the boy."
"Do you think it's a coincidence that the Sith reappeared after
hundreds of years, only when you discovered this child?"
"He is powerful in the Force, Obi-Wan. We cannot ignore that
fact."
"Qui-Gon, you are so damned blinded by the Force." Obi-Wan
clenched his fists. "Stop listening to it for just a second,
and think! Try to see this situation objectively."
"It would be more dangerous not to train him."
"He is Sith-damned, Qui-Gon!"
As the words left his mouth, Obi-Wan froze, staring blindly as
the room melted away. Colors merged, dissolved, and reassembled
into unfamiliar scenes. He watched helplessly as visions of the
future went flying and twisting through his consciousness.
Images of destruction and carnage, monsters more terrible than
any he'd ever imagined, and above all, death. Death everywhere.
His own dear master, lying in a contorted heap. It was too
terrible. He struggled, fighting to return to the present,
desperately wanting to leave his horrible forecast of the
future.
When the room swam back into focus, his master was staring at
him, pale, breathing heavily, waiting for him to return.
Obi-Wan shook with abject fear.
"He is Sith-damned, Master. He is more dangerous than
you can imagine."
"I cannot stop the call of the Force, any more than I would
stop my own heartbeat."
Obi-Wan was desperate to convince him now. "Do you love me?"
"Padawan! Of course I do."
"Then, I beg you, do not associate yourself with this child. I
swear to you, he will be your downfall."
"Please don't ask that of me."
"Master, I don't want to lose you." Obi-Wan was visibly
trembling, fighting back tears.
Qui-Gon gasped. That was it. That was what underlay all of
Obi-Wan's anxiety. He was afraid of loss. By all that was of
the Light, it had been a mistake to take him as a lover. Their
relationship had fostered a weakness in his otherwise
iron-willed padawan. It had made him vulnerable. Weakness and
vulnerability were not to be tolerated in these times. He
should never have taken him into his bed.
What else could he have done? How could he have refused the
love that sang in his body? How could he have survived without
acknowledging the love that brightened every day? The life of
the Jedi was one of sacrifice, but affection and joy and love
were of the Light. They should be celebrated.
So he had always thought. Now, he doubted the wisdom of his
decision. Would his romanticism prove the downfall of the most
important person in his life? Damn, damn, damn. He pinched the
bridge of his nose, wishing his head would clear so that he
could think!
Regret was a waste of energy, the Jedi Master counseled
himself. He must concentrate on repairing the damage. It would
have to be enough for him enough for them both. He looked at
his lover, his friend. Distress clouded the gray eyes staring
back into his.
"You will lose me, Obi-Wan," he began. "Some day, the Force
will separate us, irrevocably. You will be on your own. You
will continue on without me - with your skills, your
intelligence, your wisdom, and your capacity for love. You are
your own person, my dear padawan. You don't need me."
"That's not true."
"But it is, my love." He stepped forward and risked placing his
hand on his lover's shoulder. Thankfully, Obi-Wan did not move
away.
"One day we will be separated, but I am here now, and I love
you. Nothing - but nothing - can change that. Not the child,
not the Sith, not the Council. I have embarrassed and hurt you,
and for that I am most deeply sorry. If I have not expressed it
before, let me say it now. I intend to love you as long as I
draw breath in this life, and if possible, into whatever lies
beyond."
Obi-Wan stared up at him, pleading with eyes and words.
"Promise me that you will be careful. He is just a child, but
you must be careful."
"I promise."
His padawan reached up and pulled his head down so that their
foreheads touched, whispering, "Say it again. Promise me."
"I promise," he swore, and captured his lover's lips in a
life-affirming kiss.
Anger quickly turned to desire. Such a thin line was easy to
transcend - both emotions extreme, both born of love. The kiss
was fierce tongues and teeth staking claim. They melted to the
floor, pulling at each other's clothing, not caring where they
were or who might hear. All that mattered was for the moment,
they were together and they were alive.
Obi-Wan bared his mind and heart as he exposed his body.
Qui-Gon drew him close, grasping tightly as he gave up trying
to remove his own leggings. All that mattered was to have
Obi-Wan in his arms, to feel his skin under his hands, to grasp
his hips as they rocked against him. It was desperation cloaked
in passion.
The master allowed the apprentice to take the lead, submerging
his own will to focus on his lover's needs. His padawan needed
this affirmation of his commitment. Qui-Gon was surprised to
realize that he needed it, too. He hated arguing with his
Obi-Wan. He depended on their love as one of the few constants
in his life.
And so he found himself on his hands and knees, a soft, wet
tongue applied to his entrance. It was wondrous. He moaned his
approval, rocking subtly within the strong hands that anchored
him.
And so he found himself impaled, his mind and body filled with
the presence of his padawan. He returned the passion, focusing
on the rhythmic movement that might heal the wounds rent by
ugly words.
"Promise me," Obi-Wan pleaded again, and Qui-Gon knew he sought
more than an assurance of caution.
"I promise," he gasped. "Promise ... to love you. Respect you."
His hips rocked. Tiny starbursts exploded behind his closed
eyes.
"Yes," Obi-Wan groaned.
"To stay with you. Promise you. Only you." Pleasure threatened
to overwhelm him.
"Yes, Qui-Gon."
His nerves were on fire, burning with emotion spent and
transformed. Obi- Wan thrust faster, harder, and he began to
keen just as Qui-Gon felt his own climax approaching. They
spiraled up and over the edge within moments of each other,
locked together in need and release, shouting out their passion
for all the ship to hear. They collapsed in a sweaty heap on
the cold floor, exhausted, spent.
When his heart had stopped racing, Qui-Gon scooted over, moving
just far enough to pull Obi-Wan against his side. He ran his
fingers gently through his lover's soft, short hair. He
realized with relief that his headache was gone.
Their future began here, he thought, with this moment. He would
keep his promise, and attempt to be more objective about the
boy. He would do it for Obi-Wan, because it was obviously so
important to him. He closed his eyes and tried to restrain the
strong, single-minded message from the Force. He would be more
cautious.
As he thought of Anakin Skywalker, a faint sensation flickered
through Qui- Gon's mind. It was uncomfortable, making his skin
prickle.
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