Master
Apprentice  Archive
Opposite Truths #1: A Change of Season
|
|
|||
Series: First story in "Opposite Truths" which includes
Archive: M_A. Anyone else, just ask
Category: POV, Angst
Rating: R (M/M sex, but not explicit)
Spoilers: A few, for the movie, but nothing major.
Summary: Obi-Wan learns a lesson on the way from Coruscant to Naboo
Disclaimers: Not mine, don't sue, all in fun, yada yada yada.
Feedback: Are you kidding? All comments, complaints, suggestions and questions will be given undue attention.
Notes and Warnings: Although this fic was already written at the time of the issuance, this could be read as a half-way answer to Keelywolfe's challenge to write a unhappily ever after story for our boys. Read at your own risk. And before you run off in search of sharp implements with which to hurt me, remember that this is Obi-Wan's perception of the events. If you want to read Qui-Gon's, I might be persuaded.
Thanks to Kat once more for a great beta. All mistakes are mine. Thanks also to everyone who was kind enough to give me feedback on Shadows -- you guys are the reason I bothered to post this. Praise or blame yourself as you see fit.
Normally, Obi-Wan would not have woken when his master entered their cabin on the Queen's ship. Qui-Gon was the one person whose presence was so accepted, so expected in fact, that Obi-Wan's unconscious mind would barely flicker at his comings and goings.
But it was different tonight. The unacknowledged, frozen silence between them, had set up a barrier which suddenly made his master something foreign, if not threatening, to his vigilant unconscious. So Obi-Wan half woke as his master moved about the small cabin in preparation for sleep. Cold and disoriented, for a blank moment Obi-Wan thought himself back in the creche.
A sudden stab of dread woke him the rest of the way as he remembered where he was and realized the shield he'd erected blocking his training bond had slipped as he slept. He slammed it back into place and lay still in the dark, keeping his breathing regular. It was not a shield he was accustomed to maintaining.
But his master gave no sign that he had sensed anything amiss, and Obi-Wan was too relieved to wonder at that; Above all, he did not want his master to know how miserable he was feeling. A dreadful cold emptiness had plagued him since they had again left Coruscant for Naboo. He had not felt so lonely since he had become his master's padawan.
Lying on his side, with his back to the room, he listened as Qui-Gon approached the bed. The shifting and rustling of sheets was followed by the dip of the thin mattress as his master's weight settled. A moment passed before he felt a hand on his thigh, pushing up under his loose sleeping shirt. The hand slid up to brush his hip, his master's fingers slowly tracing the jutting bone.
Obi-Wan had to fight the sudden, shocking urge to snarl and jerk away. Apparently sensing nothing amiss, his master moved closer, his breath on Obi-Wan's neck as his hand slid over the padawan's taut stomach. Appalled at himself, Obi-Wan held his breath. He had always welcomed -- longed for -- his master's touch. The simple weight of one of his master's large hands on his shoulder was enough to fill him with warmth, like standing beneath the rays of a life-giving summer sun. But right now. . . . He clenched his teeth as he felt the shirt pushed up further and his master's lips wandered over the exposed skin. Right now, he didn't want this.
Hands pulled at him, and he was on his back, his master above him. He couldn't believe that Qui-Gon couldn't sense his reluctance -- but the Jedi Master seemed purely intent on Obi-Wan's body, which, despite the frozen cold of his mind, was beginning to respond to the familiar touch.
Why? Why did he feel like this? And why did his master not seem to sense it? He should have sensed Obi-Wan's closed mind at least. Their bond was unbroken yet.
That anguished thought led him to what he'd been deliberately not thinking about. The scene in the council chamber. It was there that the coldness had bit into him and there, after that first betraying moment, that he'd locked his shields between himself and his master. Qui-Gon's words had hurt him. A stab of such unprepared for pain, it had left him reeling. Any warning, any hint that it was coming, and he might have found a way to dull the blow. Or maybe not. As it was, Qui-Gon's pronouncement had cut like a freezing wind through unprotected flesh, slicing down to the bone.
His breath escaped in a gasp as his master moved lower on his body, murmuring his appreciation into his padawan's skin. Obi-Wan's body roused and warmed, but he was so very cold. At last, unable to bear it, he gave in. He tangled his hands into Qui-Gon's hair and dropped his shields. The touch of mere flesh could never warm him. But the brush of his master's soul would. He reached for his master through their bond and encountered . . .nothing. No patient presence waiting to embrace him, no warm surge of affection. And then understanding and horror gripped him.
His master did not know how Obi-Wan felt because he did not care to know. Like Obi-Wan, he'd shielded his end of the bond. While Obi-Wan, in occasional adolescent fits of pique, had blocked, or at least attempted to block, their bond a time or two, it was something that Qui-Gon had never, ever done. Shielded certain thoughts, certainly, but never since that desperate day he'd first called Obi-Wan padawan, the bond itself.
Did Qui-Gon even realize what he was doing? Qui-Gon was a Jedi master, in tune with the force in ways Obi-Wan was only beginning to understand. He had to know. But somehow Obi-Wan could not bring himself to believe that his master would do this deliberately -- seek from his padawan a purely physical release.
Horrible enough that he'd blocked the bond, but to continue to do so while seeking intimacy with Obi-Wan's body . . . . It was offensive. It was to seek pure physical release with no emotional tie. It was something Jedi simply did not do -- especially not with other Jedi. It was something Obi-Wan imagined one might seek from a whore. Not from a friend. Not from someone whose bed you'd shared for three years.
Not from someone you loved.
Pain flared through him, followed by a wave of anger that filled the cold emptiness. //I am not a thing for you to use like this!// He shouted it into the bond, releasing the anger, and received only an empty echo in return. It left him feeling more hollow and colder than before. He had a vision of himself shoving the larger man away, but somehow he could not do it. This was his Master.
He let Qui-Gon push his knees up. Then, with a throaty groan, Qui-Gon was thrusting inside him, and Obi-Wan, at first stifling a cry of pain, felt his body respond and gratefully allowed his body's pleasure to overwhelm everything else.
His heart beat gradually slowing to its regular steady pace, Obi-Wan lay still in Qui-Gon's embrace. His master had fallen asleep immediately, without saying a word, but Obi-Wan felt like sleep had retreated far beyond his reach. Normally, this was the time he liked best -- being held in his master's strong arms, his body content, the glow of their bond warm in his mind. But now, he was so empty that not even Qui-Gon's arms around his own still-heated skin could keep him from shivering.
He'd always known that change would come. That one day he would be considered ready to stand on his own and that of necessity his relationship with his master would alter. But he'd never believed it could end. He loved Qui-Gon too much, on too many different levels, to believe that. And he'd believed that his master felt the same. His bond with his master had always been strong.
Qui-Gon was the only lover Obi-Wan had ever had or ever wanted. But tonight -- he didn't want what he'd had tonight. He blinked in bewildered pain at the ceiling. Sex empty of the intimate touch of mind to mind. For someone who could achieve so much more it was a mockery.
Qui-Gon never did anything without a reason. Had this been a lesson then? He did not know. But his master did always prefer letting his padawan puzzle out the answers on his own. And like all Jedi Masters, he was ruthless in forcing a lesson home. Was Qui-Gon teaching him a lesson? But what? Had Qui-Gon done this to show him that when their master-padawan relationship ended, their bond would be dissolved? And that with it would go all the closeness and the love that filled Obi-Wan's soul?
Was this what it meant to be a Jedi Knight -- to be alone?
He didn't know. And for once there was no bright presence to guide him when he floundered. His master had declared him ready for the trials. But he must have misspoken when he had said he had little left to teach Obi-Wan. For it seemed that this was one last bitter lesson.
The tears that came were sudden, unexpected, and ended quickly. A few drops of moisture only, quickly absorbed into the pillow.
Fear had never been one of Obi-Wan's weaknesses. Anger, impatience, those he had in liberal abundance. But it was fear that was clawing its freezing hands through his chest, stopping his breath. He was afraid. He was so afraid that there was no warmth left for him anywhere in the universe.
End