Master Apprentice
Archive
Hearing Loss
|
|
|||
As Qui-Gon poured hot water into the teapot, he was suddenly struck by how often this task had fallen to him of late. Tonight was the third evening in a row that Obi-Wan was out, meeting with Garen again. Qui-Gon wondered if they had a joint project due soon for some class.
Qui-Gon smiled wryly to himself as he realized he had filled the large pot with enough hot water for two and that he had used spiced darfu leaves, which was not a choice he would ever make on his own account. It was as if he had been hoping that brewing his padawan's favorite tea would lure him back to their quarters.
When the darfu leaves did not prove effective, Qui-Gon fetched a single mug and poured himself a generous amount. He settled onto their couch, sipped tentatively, then held the heated mug to his chest. The rich fragrance wafting from it reminded him of Obi-Wan, so perhaps the tea did serve to recall his padawan in part.
The first evening Obi-Wan had excused himself, Qui-Gon had almost felt relieved. Things had gotten so... tense between them since Obi-Wan had earned the rank of senior padawan at the beginning of this cycle, under two weeks ago. Of course, Qui-Gon knew he had only himself to blame for that.
Until this promotion, Qui-Gon had known that there could be nothing between them and accordingly he had kept his desire deeply hidden, almost even from himself. Well, that was true during the day at any rate. In the past few years, since around the time Obi-Wan had turned nineteen, Qui-Gon had taken up sleeping in the nude in order to avoid adding sleepwear to the pile of linens that needed laundering many mornings.
Qui-Gon had noted Obi-Wan's own piles of linens with satisfaction. And while Obi-Wan's shielding was admirable, Qui-Gon still had seen signs that Obi-Wan's taste ran towards the tall, older, masterly type. Since Obi-Wan's promotion, Qui-Gon had actively sought, and found, more signs confirming that predilection.
Besides, he justified to himself, he really was more comfortable meditating without his tunics. Also, snapping out of the meditation suddenly to catch someone, even one's own padawan, staring intently was a valuable survival skill.
And he enjoyed dressing in his airy room instead of the cramped steamy fresher after he took a shower. The clothes didn't stick to him as he got dressed.
While performing those ablutions, he always seemed to think of questions he needed to ask Obi-Wan. As soon as he stepped out of the fresher, he quizzed Obi-Wan on his plans for the day or his last astronav exam. Obi-Wan steadfastly maintained eye contact while answering, but didn't turn away when Qui-Gon continued on to his room.
The tea was cool enough to drink now. He took the first true mouthful and rolled the familiar flavor that he had shared so often with his padawan around on his tongue.
Qui-Gon had found ways to touch Obi-Wan, and delighted in the reactions elicited. At the least, Obi-Wan seemed flummoxed. And sometimes he responded as if stung by a zyrfly. Last week Obi-Wan had dropped a full mug that he was passing to Qui-Gon when their hands had met.
Qui-Gon cupped his favorite mug, a Name Day present Obi-Wan had given him years ago, protectively. He was lucky that Obi-Wan had used one from their set that day.
As a senior padawan, Obi-Wan was starting to attempt the most advanced katas. Qui-Gon relished making numerous small adjustments in his stance, but Obi-Wan's performance always seemed to deteriorate after having his master's hands all over his body.
Qui-Gon chuckled to himself then drank deeply.
He wished Obi-Wan was sitting on the other side of the couch. He would find some way to tease him and perhaps to touch him again. He could feign interest in Obi-Wan's brand of depilatory and assess his current level of stubble by stroking his red-shadowed jaw. And he'd need to feel how effectively it worked inside the cleft of his chin as well.
Or perhaps he would simply comment on how Obi-Wan should requisition a green dress tunic to complement the exquisite color of his eyes. The dress code for senior padawans allowed more flexibility, especially in formal attire.
It was fun to think up ways to bait Obi-Wan. But he'd happily exchange that pleasure in order to achieve his real goal. They could be lovers, perhaps even paired, if only Obi-Wan would take the initiative! As a master, he was forbidden from making the first move.
And Obi-Wan knew that. Qui-Gon had made sure he'd known when the first week had passed after his promotion without any move from Obi-Wan. During one of their shared evenings, sitting together on this couch as usual, he had given a little speech.
"Obi-Wan, I know you are taking your new duties as a senior padawan seriously. I've seen you helping out in the initiates' saber classes and even in the creche."
Obi-Wan colored slightly and ducked his head as if embarrassed to admit doing such a thing. He looked so luscious when he was self-conscious. Qui-Gon wanted to reach over, tip his face back up, and devour those lips.
"I just want to make sure you understand the rights and freedoms, as well as the responsibilities, that accompany your new rank. I had assumed you knew about them, but maybe I was mistaken. For one thing, the padawan curfew doesn't apply to senior padawans and you may even stay out overnight as long as you inform me ahead of time. For another, you are now sanctioned to officially pair with anyone of equal or greater rank. Though it is expected that in the case of a knight, and required in the case of a master, that you initiate the relationship."
Obi-Wan looked attentively at him, but didn't say anything. His gaze pinned Qui-Gon motionless, speechless, breathless. Qui-Gon hoped that Obi-Wan would seize the moment and confess his desire. But after a long pause, his only response was, "I understand."
Perhaps Obi-Wan needed some time to find his center and think of just the right thing to say. Qui-Gon had anxiously anticipated their next evening together, hoping that Obi-Wan would find his tongue. But that had been the first evening Obi-Wan had announced his intention to meet with Garen. And after the mounting tension, Qui-Gon had almost felt relieved.
That first night Qui-Gon had assumed that Obi-Wan and Garen were going off to celebrate their new status together. Garen had also just made the senior padawan grade. But one didn't need to celebrate three evenings in a row!
Suddenly the muted sense of loneliness he felt grew to an acute ache. He impatiently swallowed the rest of his now tepid tea, deposited the mug on the side table, and stalked out of their quarters, grabbing his robe that hung near the door on his way out.
He directed his steps to the arboretum as he drew on his robe. If there was one place that held more meaning for him and Obi-Wan together than their couch, it was the secluded spot between the tarrinwood and the argent leaf tree.
The towering tarrinwood was one of the largest trees in the arboretum. Obi-Wan and he together could barely encircle the trunk with their arms. Its deeply furrowed bark provided a favorite shelter for insects. Those and the nuts it produced fed the birds and other small animals that were often hidden amongst the tree's dark foliage. Qui-Gon loved filling himself with its abundance of Living Force.
The argent leaf tree was a fine specimen in its own right, just fully mature, its smooth steely bark still unflawed. The brilliant green topsides of the leaves matched the usual color of his padawan's eyes. The undersides truly were silvery and in the slightest breeze the leaves flitted about, catching and reflecting any light, and reminded Qui-Gon of Obi-Wan's smile.
The two trees, so unlike, complemented each other. They grew close enough together to form a single canopy, and it was the location underneath those joined branches that was so special to the two of them.
He and Obi-Wan had eaten a picnic lunch under that canopy soon after Qui-Gon had accepted him as padawan. They meditated under the protection offered by those branches after particularly difficult missions and reflected there on notable achievements in Obi-Wan's life as the trees cycled through their seasonal changes. Qui-Gon had chosen to break the news to Obi-Wan of his father's death in that nearly sacred place.
Qui-Gon realized that they needed to go there together again, soon, to mark Obi-Wan's elevation to senior padawan. But he had been waiting, hoping to have even more to contemplate beneath the twined branches.
Qui-Gon's long stride had already carried him into the arboretum and along the little-used dirt path that led to the field where the two trees grew. He was about to cut off the trail to avoid being trapped behind a tall hedgerow when he heard a voice, then two voices, from somewhere just ahead.
Qui-Gon dropped his own shielding enough to sense the presence of two other Jedi, each well shielded. Now that Qui-Gon probed, no amount of shielding could prevent him from discovering that one of them was Obi-Wan.
What could have possessed Obi-Wan to come here, to their spot, with someone else?
He continued quietly along the path, now concealed by the hedge, until he reached a small breach in the foliage. Peering out into the gloom, he could just make out the profiles of his padawan and Garen, standing face to face. They were far enough from the path that he needed his enhanced hearing in order to catch their words. Obi-Wan was speaking.
" ... and I've brought you here to ask you something. Please hear me out before you say anything."
What could Obi-Wan need to ask of Garen? It was obviously important. Why hadn't Obi-Wan come to him instead?
Garen's profile nodded encouragingly. Obi-Wan took a deep breath and continued.
"I consider you my best friend. I trust you more than anyone else, and I hope we can continue on as before if you have to say no."
Qui-Gon couldn't help but feel somewhat betrayed. While Garen was an agemate, and the padawans went back to the creche together, Qui-Gon had come to think of himself as Obi-Wan's best friend in recent years. And surely one should trust one's own master even more than a confidant.
Besides, what right did Obi-Wan have to bring a friend, even his closest friend, here? His big hands clenched at his sides as he briefly raised his eyes to the boughs framing the scene.
Obi-Wan looked down and dropped his voice so that Qui-Gon had to strain to hear what followed.
"For years now, I've wished we could be even more to each other, but I didn't want to say anything. I didn't want to risk what we already had." Obi-Wan's head snapped back up and he exclaimed, "But I just can't go on any longer not knowing whether you care for me the way I care for you!"
An icy wind ripped through Qui-Gon's soul. It took enormous effort to suppress the cry on his lips and to remain standing, but he did. Like a bantha caught in a speeder lamp, he stood transfixed as Obi-Wan dropped on his knee and took Garen's right hand.
"I love you!" Obi-Wan declared in a voice tight with passion. "I love you and I want us to spend the rest of our lives together. I need to know if you love me too. Do you? Will you show it by pairing with me so that we can never be forced apart?"
Startled, even in the depths of his misery, Qui-Gon wondered if any other padawan had ever proposed so formally to another padawan. It would have been touching, even heartwarming, for Qui-Gon to overhear those words from any other lover at any other place.
Qui-Gon fully expected Garen to leap upon Obi-Wan and planned on retreating before he became a voyeur instead of an eavesdropper. Instead, he watched in amazement as Garen pulled his hand out of Obi-Wan's grasp and punched him on the shoulder.
"That was well done, Obi! Really well done!" Garen laughed. Then he added, "But you know how it is. No matter what you say or how you say it, if it isn't there, it just isn't there." Garen lifted his hands in an exaggerated gesture.
In the silent pause that followed, Qui-Gon's emotions twisted around again. The bitter cold of his disappointment and the spark of pain he felt from Obi-Wan's near treachery were forgotten in the moment as he was overwhelmed by a molten wave of fury. How dare Garen treat Obi-Wan so! The callous Sith-spawn didn't deserve his padawan's friendship, let alone his devotion! Qui-Gon wanted nothing more than to get Garen alone and show him some of the most advanced hand-to-hand combat moves. Without teaching him the defenses.
As his saber hand fisted, Qui-Gon suddenly realized that jealousy was fueling his anger. He was shocked at himself. Some Jedi Master he was!
As quickly as the scorching emotion had surfaced, Qui-Gon channelled it away. It was replaced with a new kind of warmth, this time his compassion for Obi-Wan. He knew how his padawan must feel! To be shrugged off so heartlessly by his friend!
As if on key, Obi-Wan broke the silence. "Yes, that's true. I know I can't get someone to love me with a speech. But I thought I should give it my best shot anyway."
"You take everything so seriously, Obi!" Garen exclaimed, throwing an arm around his friend's shoulders and ushering him to his feet.
Perhaps Garen's attitude was the right one to take. Obi-Wan didn't collapse in a puddle or pull away and they both headed off across the field, towards the wing where Garen's quarters were located.
Qui-Gon continued to stare at the now vacant space. In the course of a few minutes, his world had turned upside down. For years, Obi-Wan had been mooning after his age-mate, not his master. It made perfect sense and Qui-Gon wondered how he had ever deceived himself.
In hindsight, he re-interpreted the odd looks Obi-Wan had given him. Of course he would be nonplussed by his master's recent behavior, but not because he was filled with desire.
Still, it was so unlike Obi-Wan, almost cruel, for him to bring someone else here. Unless, of course, Obi-Wan considered it his own special place, not theirs together. Then he would certainly want to propose to his prospective lover here, if possible.
This last thought made Qui-Gon feel the completeness of his loss. So much of what he thought Obi-Wan had felt he had simply imagined. Obi-Wan probably saw no symbolism at all in the two trees; they just provided shade and shelter.
How could he ever achieve serenity here again? How could he see those trees and not think of Obi-Wan confessing his love to Garen? He mourned the loss of the meaningful memories that he had once associated with being here. He had to find some other special place and soon; he had a lot to meditate on and feelings that he still had to channel away before they consumed him.
But all that wasn't Obi-Wan's fault. And now surely his padawan was hurting just as much as he was. He needed to get back to their quarters before Obi-Wan in order to be there for him. He had to pull himself together and start acting responsibly.
Despite returning directly to their quarters, Qui-Gon wasn't there much before Obi-Wan. He was standing in the middle of the common room, having just hung up his robe, when Obi-Wan entered, expressionless.
They locked gazes and Qui-Gon knew it was time.
"Obi-Wan," he said gently, "I'm sorry."
"Master? For what?" Obi-Wan sounded truly perplexed.
Qui-Gon stepped close to his padawan. "I overheard you and Garen talking in the arboretum."
Obi-Wan gasped slightly and looked panicky.
Qui-Gon continued, "And all I can say is, I'm sorry. I know how badly hurt you feel. And nothing I say or do can truly make amends."
Obi-Wan's misery was now easily read on his face. His shields were wavering and Qui-Gon began to wonder if he was doing the right thing by offering sympathy. His padawan might not want to break down in front of his master.
Qui-Gon decided to press on. It would be better if Obi-Wan knew he had support. He wrapped his padawan in his arms. Obi-Wan buried his face in his master's tunics.
"I hope you know how much I care for you, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said calmly while screaming 'I love you!' to himself. "I hate to see you hurt like this; it hurts me just as much."
It was true; his own pain was a confusion of his own loss and empathy for Obi-Wan's. He wasn't sure where one left off and the other started. The only saving grace of this situation was that Obi-Wan was spared the knowledge of his master's heartbreak.
Despite that reprieve, Obi-Wan's soul chose this moment to surrender. With a single strangled sob, his shields collapsed and through their bond, Qui-Gon was plunged into an abyss of anguish and loss. Reacting instinctively, he clutched his padawan tightly to his chest and crooned soothing noises into his ear. Obi-Wan made small incoherent sounds as Qui-Gon's tunics grew damp. Qui-Gon's own tears fell unnoticed, mingling with the moisture already on the young man's face.
It didn't take very long at all, really, for Obi-Wan to begin to rebuild his shields. Qui-Gon would have been content to hold him the whole night, but the master in him was glad to see Obi-Wan's return to composure.
With the smallest of hitches in his voice, Obi-Wan said, "Thank you, Master," as he pulled away. He kept his head bowed as he sped off to his own room.
Qui-Gon sighed. Things could be worse. He was used to being alone and Obi-Wan would get over this disappointment sooner or later and find a new love. Qui-Gon utterly refused to entertain the hope it would be himself.
He went into the kitchen, poured out the remainder of the tea, rinsed the pot, then sought refuge, rather than rest, in his bedroom for the night.
Early the next morning when Qui-Gon emerged again, he was very surprised to find that Obi-Wan had already left. He saw no evidence that Obi-Wan had eaten. Was he too embarrassed to face him?
Another, more dire, possibility struck Qui-Gon, and although it seemed remote, he wouldn't take anything for granted since he obviously didn't know his padawan as well as he had once thought. Had Obi-Wan, overnight, come to the conclusion that life without Garen's love wasn't worth living? Alarmed, he probed and was relieved to sense Obi-Wan alive and well, somewhere on temple grounds, though tightly shielded.
Still not content, he dressed hastily and set out, following his sense of his padawan.
He ended up walking straight through the refectory and out the patio door. At this hour of the morning, the al fresco area was little used. Even most Jedi were not out and about this early by choice. Still, he heard the murmur of two voices.
With a twisted sense of deja vu, he realized he was overhearing Obi-Wan and Garen again. They were evidently seated at one of the niches set into the wall. Qui-Gon could just glimpse the arch of his padawan's back, and he was speaking.
"Sith, Garen! I've never been so miserable!"
Oh, Obi-Wan! Didn't he realize there was nothing he could say to make someone else love him? He hoped Obi-Wan wouldn't pester Garen. He would have to have another talk with his padawan.
"I'm so sorry, Obi. I wish there was something I could do."
At least Garen was sounding more compassionate today. Maybe the other padawan now realized, at least in part, the depth of hurt when one's love was rejected.
In the pause that followed, Qui-Gon could hear the sound of a utensil being dragged around a plate.
"I just don't know what to do, Garen. How can I act as if nothing has passed between us? I don't even feel like doing anything."
"It happens to nearly every one at one time or another. I know it hurts now, but you'll get over it. And some day you'll find someone you're happy with and be glad that you hadn't gotten paired up earlier."
Garen was right, though he sounded a little stand-offish. But perhaps it was good to keep Obi-Wan at arm's length. It wouldn't do for Garen to encourage him at all.
"Garen, listen to me. I understand what you're saying. And I know that everyone feels like their own case is different. But mine is!"
Obi-Wan was still so naive. To Qui-Gon, it made him all the more charming.
"Ever since I first saw him, I've wanted him, one way or another..."
Qui-Gon was suddenly hopelessly confused. Him who? Garen was right there speaking with Obi-Wan.
"...first as my master, then as a friend, then as a lover...."
Vertigo struck Qui-Gon like a blow to the head. Was his padawan saying what he seemed to be saying?
"...and it's not just about sex. Not only do I spend my nights dreaming about making love with him, but I can't imagine ever living without him. I've come to dread being knighted because then I'll have to leave him if we're not paired!"
Qui-Gon couldn't breath properly and his dizziness increased. He wondered briefly if all the oxygen in the room had gone missing. That explained why he hadn't spontaneously combusted.
Obi-Wan continued, "I guess I'm glad I wasn't holding his hand and on one knee when he had to reject me. It was slightly less embarrassing than that. But I was certain, Garen, in my heart, that he felt the same way I do."
Garen made a noncommittal sound at the same time as an involuntary noise escaped Qui-Gon's throat. No one seemed to notice.
Obi-Wan wasn't finished yet. "Even if it was easier this way, I still wish I'd had the chance to tell him, face to face, that I love him. I know it wouldn't make any difference to how he feels, but it would feel right to me."
Garen interjected, "Well, he heard you, at any rate, Obi, And I have to tell you, your practice paid off. Your delivery was perfect. If your words could have made a difference, they would have."
Those words, when Qui-Gon had first heard them, had been branded mercilessly onto his soul. As he replayed them in his mind now he locked them instead inside his heart, which had expanded a hundred fold in the last few minutes.
He was delighted. Elated. Everything had suddenly been made right. He loved Obi-Wan; Obi-Wan loved him. He wasn't quite the fool he had come to believe.
He wanted to grab Obi-Wan from behind and start making love to him right there, right then. He even took a step in that direction before he froze.
Obi-Wan still had to make the first move.
And Obi-Wan thought he had already been rejected.
Well, this problem couldn't be too hard to solve. After all, he already knew what Obi-Wan wanted to ask him and what his answer would be. Qui-Gon retreated into the refectory and headed back towards his quarters, not bothering to suppress his wide grin as he began to plan.
When Obi-Wan returned to his quarters after his morning astronav class, he was clearly taken aback to find his friend Garen seated on the couch with his master in the common area.
"I'm glad to see you, Padawan," Qui-Gon greeted him. "Garen and I were just chatting. Would you do us a kindness and make us all tea?"
Obi-Wan cast a suspicious glare at Garen, who smiled in return, but he replied, "Certainly, Master." He stepped into the kitchen.
"So, isn't that a funny story?" Qui-Gon asked loudly.
"Yes, Master Jinn," Garen replied equally loudly. "When did you figure it out?"
Qui-Gon could hear the clatter of crockery on the countertop coming from the kitchen.
"I didn't realize the truth until this morning when I overheard the two of you at firstmeal."
That was the sound of the kettle being placed a little too forcefully onto the heating unit.
"You must have passed a miserable night!" Garen commiserated.
"Of course!" Qui-Gon practically bellowed. "I was completely convinced that Obi-Wan loved you and that you had rejected him. And I'm afraid I gave Obi-Wan the mistaken impression that I don't love him!"
Smash! Another mug lost. Qui-Gon hoped it wasn't his favorite.
"It's amazing how you can misunderstand things when you overhear part of a conversation," Garen commented.
Obi-Wan emerged from the kitchen. His face was rather pale, his eyes looked feverish and he seemed to be breathing a little oddly. Ordinarily, Qui-Gon would have sent him to the healers.
Looking straight at Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon rejoined, "And sometimes, I hope, one can correct misunderstandings that way."
"Well, I'd like to stay for tea," Garen said as he rose, "but I just realized I should be elsewhere right now."
Qui-Gon smiled at the padawan's wording. "Thank you, Garen."
"I try to help. I'll talk to you later, Obi."
Obi-Wan looked at his friend. "Yes, thank you Garen. For everything."
As soon as the door closed, Qui-Gon asked, "So, Obi-Wan, would you like to discuss anything now?"
Obi-Wan captured Qui-Gon's gaze with his own. "Discuss? No, I've learned that words can be misunderstood," Obi-Wan stated as he stalked across the common room to stand in front of his master. "But actions speak louder than words." He pounced on Qui-Gon with such force that the master was knocked supine on the couch. Obi-Wan landed on top, kissing him for all he was worth.
It wasn't the speech Qui-Gon had expected, but Obi-Wan had clearly succeeded in making the first move.
Finally free of the interdiction, Qui-Gon responded with frantic kisses of his own, landing them on any surface his squirming padawan offered. Qui-Gon mouthed Obi-Wan's chin, ear, and eyebrow, before having to settle for the bristles on the top of his head. He compensated for the lack of flesh to taste by stroking and squeezing all the parts of Obi-Wan he could reach.
"Luff... mmmooo... mmmMashtrrmmm!" Obi-Wan declared while trying to devour Qui-Gon's neck.
"Aiy!" Qui-Gon yelped as Obi-Wan nipped hard. "Lovvaaah... youummmm... toomrf!" His avowal ended abruptly as Obi-Wan obstructed his mouth with his own. Lips were suddenly a clear winner in the parts department, but the tongue gave them some stiff competition.
Both men became even less articulate at that point, but Qui-Gon had never been more certain that he and his apprentice understood each other perfectly well. As the last of his cognitive power drained away, he vowed silently to take Obi-Wan to the arboretum the next day. It would be the perfect place to formally propose to him, and Qui-Gon already knew the words he would use by heart.