Master Apprentice
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Necessary Deceit 4
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It had been five long years since Qui-Gon's death, since Anakin's, and Obi-Wan felt every exhausting hour of that time like a bruise on his soul. The universe was in turmoil, the darkness increasing with each passing day, and the Jedi were stretched too thin to handle all the hot spots. As he walked away from the Council chamber, toward the ship that was awaiting him, Obi-Wan sighed.
He knew he should be training another padawan, but he could not. He would not take that risk again, could never be responsible for another life. He'd lost his master and his padawan, and both deaths could have been prevented. He could have prevented them, if only he'd been a little better, a second faster. His master had died due to his lack of foresight, not using Force-enhanced speed to stay at his side. Anakin had been lost due to his lack of attention to the here and now. Wherever Qui-Gon was, Obi-Wan felt certain he was disappointed.
So, he plugged along, day by day, doing the will of the Council and taking every mission that came along, regardless of how dangerous. He didn't have the drive he'd had before, nor the passion. That was probably a good thing. Passion was not something a Jedi should feel. Yet, he did feel it about one thing in particular: Qui-Gon Jinn.
Though it had been years, though he had tried to tear it from his memory, he still remembered the dream he'd had just a few short days after Qui-Gon's death.
"I am alive," his master's voice had whispered, as clear as if he'd been standing beside the bed. "Remember that I love you, and wait for me."
He'd relived it countless times since, and his subconscious mind had gradually added to it. Now, he often dreamed of himself wrapped in strong arms, a bearded chin tickling the back of his neck as his master's huge cock plunged into him from behind -
"Exhausted you are."
Obi-Wan turned with a start. He had not even sensed Yoda falling into place at his side. He quickly composed his face into what he hoped would pass as serenity and gave his normal answer. "I'm fine, Master."
Yoda's ears dropped as he shook his head. "Staying at the temple you should be, not going on another mission. No rest you have had in far too long."
When Obi-Wan didn't comment on that, Yoda wisely changed the subject.
"When return you do, a young initiate I wish you to meet. Strong she is in the Force, and highly skilled -"
"With all due respect, Master Yoda," the knight interrupted a bit sharply, unwilling to get into this discussion again, "I will not take another apprentice. Better to leave the young ones to Jedi who do not lose their padawans in simple training exercises."
Yoda thudded his gimer stick against the floor. "Not your fault that was! Told you this, we all have. Believe it, you must!"
"Forgive me, Master, but my transport is waiting."
"Stubborn you are, just like Qui-Gon."
Obi-Wan felt a stab of familiar pain slice its way through his heart at the sound of that name. Oh, how he missed his master, and longed for all that might have been. If only Qui-Gon were alive, somehow, Obi-Wan would fling himself at his feet, beg forgiveness for his dreadful shortcomings, and beg the man to never leave him again. But that could not be. The dead did not return.
He folded his hands into his sleeves and remained silent. Yoda would give him leave to go, to fulfill his duty, in a moment. He always did. Obi-Wan put his weariness and the aches in his badly used body aside as inconsequential. He would serve the Republic, and the Council, until that day that the Force took him home.
He could only hope that it would be soon.
The End