SUMMARY: Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan. Adult situations and concepts.
Pre-slash, angst, romance. When Obi-Wan realizes that other
people want his master, will he decide to compete for an
intimacy he knows his master doesn't want to share with him?
First in a series.
ARCHIVE: Please. As often as possible and wherever you like.
NOTE: All of my stories may be found on my site
(http://www.europa.com/~mercutio/Stories.html).
"Never."
"I find that very hard to believe, Master Jinn," purred
the tall blonde diplomat nearly sitting in his lap.
A short man with a brush haircut similar to Obi-Wan's own
leaned over to pour more wine into Qui-Gon's glass. "As do I.
There must be something more to this than that?"
"Yes, dear," repeated the blonde, as she hunched her shoulders
in a way that emphasized her cleavage. "How can you have
reached such... masterly... heights, and yet never been
embarrassed?"
"A matter of willpower," Qui-Gon said calmly, eliciting snorts
of laughter from his audience. "It also helps that there is
little that embarrasses me."
"Hmm... that sounds like a challenge," the woman said. "I bet
we could find something that embarrasses you."
"I doubt it," Qui-Gon said with a perfectly straight face and
a hint of a twinkle that made Obi-Wan want to hide under his
chair. Or pull out his lightsaber and... well, it wouldn't be
very Jedi-like to attack Vedia Primus just because she was
trying to charm his master and, from the looks of it, doing a
fair job of it, too. But it would be very satisfactory.
Obi-Wan stifled a sigh at the unfairness of life. Doubly
unfair because he wanted to be in Vedia's place. Wanted to have
Qui-Gon Jinn smiling at him like that. He closed his eyes,
centered himself, then reopened them and smiled. "I don't think
you need to go to such extreme measures, Primus."
"Oh?" she asked, turning to him, clearly a little disappointed
to be distracted from her prey. "And why is that?"
Obi-Wan smiled mischievously.
Before he could say anything, however, Qui-Gon looked
quellingly at him, "Padawan..."
The Tertius grinned. "You know a few things about your master
that he isn't telling, perhaps?"
Qui-Gon's glare was fierce.
"Perhaps, Tertius," Obi-Wan replied with every evidence of
humility. "But I may be mistaken."
He looked at Qui-Gon, waiting to see if he would be quashed.
If his master truly didn't wish him to speak, Obi-Wan would
not. But the Taliaferrans were fond of their elaborate games,
and he thought that this was the right thing to do.
Qui-Gon maintained his inscrutability. "Padawans are often
mistaken."
Obi-Wan saw the slight gleam, and knew that it would be all
right. "I must be, as I seem to recall that you were
embarrassed on at least one prior occasion. On Xanderall?"
Both the Primus and the Tertius were leaning in closely now.
The intense atmosphere was drawing attention from the other
people in the room.
"Master Jinn?" Vedia asked.
"I... remember our mission to Xanderall."
"And?"
Qui-Gon declined to reply to Vedia's query, and Obi-Wan
continued with a pretense of thoughtfulness. "I don't think it
embarrassed you when the crown prince had your clothes removed
from your room while you were bathing. I certainly wasn't
discomfited when you came to my room -- which, by the way, was
halfway across the palace -- dressed in only a towel. But I'm
sure something must have happened during the journey between
the two places, because of the color you turned when the King
Father said that you had very nice legs for a man of your age."
The Primus and Tertius both howled.
Qui-Gon waited until their laughter was subsiding before
speaking. "I did not turn color, padawan. If you recall, I
thanked him very politely for his observation."
"And do you?" Vedia asked.
"Do I what?"
"Have nice legs?"
"According to the King Father of Xanderall, yes. But," Qui-Gon
said, smiling toothily, "a Jedi is not vain."
"Of course not. But if you would care for an independent,
unbiased assessment...?" Vedia said, placing her hand on his
thigh.
Qui-Gon retrieved it before she could do more than brush the
cloth, and kissed the palm of her hand. "Then I know who I
shall ask."
Obi-Wan thought his master was simply being polite, within the
customs of the Taliaferran culture. Thought so, even as he
released his jealousy to the Force. Qui-Gon would never seek a
partner while on a mission with Obi-Wan. It could compromise
the mission, and moreover, Qui-Gon knew precisely how it would
make his padawan feel.
Because Qui-Gon knew his feelings. Knew, and had promised that
he would never become involved with Obi-Wan.
And Obi-Wan knew that, regardless of the code, regardless of
their feelings, should Qui-Gon's become something passionate
for him, the Jedi master would never break that promise.
It was security, and it was the Dark Side itself.
"If you did not find that incident embarrassing," Obi-Wan
continued, distracting himself from his current thoughts, and
Vedia from her predations, "I also recall another incident with
the Nani..."
"Padawan..."
"Yes, master?" Obi-Wan asked, wide-eyed and all pretend
innocence.
"You've made your point. Kindly remember, however, that I know
many more stories about you than you know about me."
"Master..."
Qui-Gon turned toward the Primus and the Tertius. "Now, I'm
not saying that Obi-Wan is a virgin..."
"You just did!"
"Did not," Qui-Gon said serenely. "Perhaps five years ago. Not
tonight, of course. I would never imply that."
Obi-Wan looked at the others. "He doesn't really know."
Qui-Gon looked offended. "I know down to the minute, padawan.
You couldn't have been more obvious about it if you had ushered
a herd of Banthas through the Temple courtyard."
"You're assuming things," Obi-Wan said. His eyes glinted. "Or
perhaps we should discuss your history?"
"Very well, perhaps I am assuming things. Such as a certain
conversation held in the early hours of the morning. But you
had a midnight curfew that evening. You didn't remember that
either."
"Hah!" Obi-Wan scoffed. "If I'd woken you up, then you'd have
some interesting additions to your tale. You do sleep soundly
after all. Light only knows what you really heard."
"Hmm. 23. The precise age at which you acquired an interest in
a certain Florian speeder, and... need I say more?"
"Um... no."
"Oh, but you must," Sandrian Tertius said. "You've intrigued
us this far."
"Padawan?"
"I concede."
"As well you should," Qui-Gon said, smiling at him at a way
that made Obi-Wan's heart flip over, an operation which made it
extremely difficult to breathe.
Obi-Wan's mouth quirked into its own smile, and he let himself
enjoy the teasing for what it was. Never mind that the reason
this subject bothered him was that he had lost his virginity to
someone other than Qui-Gon. Never mind that he'd never found
any sexual experience worth giving up his feelings for his
master.
"While my padawan is not a virgin, the Denmerchi tribe had
their doubts when he..."
Obi-Wan tried not to cover his eyes. Did the audience
disappear if you couldn't see it? No. He would simply have to
live through this night.
As soon as he decently could, Obi-Wan excused himself from the
revelry. He really didn't need to hear the rest of this
particular story. After relieving himself and putting himself
back to rights, he proceeded back down the same hallway he'd
used to get there, albeit somewhat more slowly than was truly
necessary.
A silky voice stopped him. "You think no one notices, don't
you?"
It was Vedia. "Excuse me, Primus?"
"You stare at him. All the time. Do you think he doesn't know?
He knows. He knows you want him. And he doesn't care, because
he wants me."
Of course Qui-Gon didn't want him, but... The absurdity of the
accusation sank in. The absurdity, and the tiny grain of truth
that the woman had somehow caught. "Thank you for telling me.
If you will excuse me?"
He didn't wait for an answer, brushing by her.
When he sat back down at his master's side, he looked intently
at him. Qui-Gon nodded, and Obi-Wan sat back. They would talk
about this later. For the moment, Qui-Gon knew something was
wrong, and knew it wasn't major enough to interrupt the
evening's business for.
He felt uncomfortable now, sitting there, and averted his
eyes. Did he stare so much at Qui-Gon that even a relative
stranger found it remarkable? Were his emotions so easy to
read? He was aware that he couldn't hide them from his master,
not when Qui-Gon knew all about them, and not when he shared a
training bond with someone so strong in the living Force. But
was he making his pining for what he couldn't have obvious?
Obvious in a way that was embarrassing to the Jedi?
Embarrassing to Qui-Gon?
Surely his master would have said something if that were true.
Surely.
Obi-Wan kept his eyes fixed on the table as much as possible
for the rest of the discussion.
When they returned to their rooms in the early morning, they
did so with an extra person. The Primus had insisted on walking
them, or rather, Qui-Gon, back to the suite.
Two steps behind his master, Obi-Wan waited silently in the
corridor as Vedia wrapped herself around Qui-Gon.
"I had a very pleasant evening," Vedia said in a
seductive tone. "I don't want it to end so soon, and I don't
think you do either."
Qui-Gon was steadying her with one hand against the small of
her back to keep her from pushing the both of them over. But he
appeared perfectly at ease. "Yet every night must inevitably
end so that a new one may begin," he said lightly.
Vedia cooed, and brushed against Qui-Gon, chest to heaving
bosom. "You're very clever."
And I am about to be sick, thought Obi-Wan.
His nascent jealousy and suspicions about her motivations were
prompting him to tear the Primus away from his master, but
Obi-Wan calmed himself. Qui-Gon was capable of handling the
matter on his own. His master's diplomacy would serve him well,
and indeed, Obi-Wan could probably learn much from how Qui-Gon
dealt with this situation. He only wished he didn't have to
witness it.
That Qui-Gon would politely, but firmly, refuse the woman,
Obi-Wan didn't question. The master would not treat him so,
would not force him to watch his master giving himself to
another. Qui-Gon would probably even leave the Primus feeling
as though she had succeeded, had held some part of him, however
briefly. That would be a bad move under the circumstances and
would only encourage the woman worse in her belief that Qui-Gon
was attracted to her, but there was nothing Obi-Wan could say
here to stop it.
And he didn't want to see Qui-Gon charming her.
"May I be excused, master?"
Qui-Gon's gaze settled on him. For a moment, Obi-Wan was
afraid the Jedi master was going to say no. But Qui-Gon nodded.
"Yes, padawan."
Obi-Wan moved around the pair, and retreated to the suite that
he and his master had been given.
Inside, he settled into a meditation posture, waiting for
Qui-Gon. He did not feel at ease until Qui-Gon entered the
suite alone.
"Obi-Wan?"
He opened his eyes, and stood up. "I'm in here."
"Ah, good. What did you wish to speak to me about?"
"The Primus, Vedia. We met in the corridor earlier this
evening. She... said some things that I found disturbing. I
think you should be cautious of her."
"I see. Did she make threats?"
"No..."
"What did she say?"
He couldn't repeat it. He didn't want to repeat it. Not all of
it. "She's attracted to you."
"Yes, I noticed that," Qui-Gon said with an ironic tone. "You
need not worry about me, padawan. I know what I'm doing. I have
handled these situations before."
"Of course you have." It came out twisted, sarcastic almost,
and he shuddered as a heavy hand fell on his shoulder. "Yes,
master?"
The hand dropped. "I... wanted to apologize, Obi-Wan for what
I said earlier about your virginity. It was necessary to behave
as I did, but I do not wish to hurt you. If anything I said
caused you pain, I am truly sorry for it."
"I'm fine, master," Obi-Wan said, appreciating the
consideration, but not wanting to get into a conversation on
this topic. He wanted to take his clothes off and go to bed, in
that order, and he wasn't feeling that fussy on the first
point.
"You were angry with me earlier."
Obi-Wan nodded. Qui-Gon's grasp of the living Force made it
near impossible to lie to him. He had an almost empathic
ability to read those around him, especially his apprentice.
"This then should be resolved before it goes further and
damages our ability to work together."
"It's fine," Obi-Wan said. "I... it was a long time ago
and I don't wish to talk about it."
"Not so long as that. You're only 26."
"It seems longer."
Qui-Gon returned his hand to Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Come, sit
down, let us discuss this. We have further dealings with the
Taliaferrans and tonight was typical of what will take place
while we are here. We must both be at ease with that."
Reluctantly, Obi-Wan let himself be led to a chair. "I
understand what's required."
"Understand, perhaps. But you're having difficulty dealing
with the reality of it."
"I will cope."
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said levelly. "I know you very well. Please
don't try to convince me that you are well when you are not.
Something bothered you this evening, and we both know it. What
was it, and why did it bother you?"
"You don't want to have this conversation."
"I think I do."
Obi-Wan nodded painfully. If Qui-Gon would not accept his
evasions, then he had no choice. "I didn't realize that I was
angry until you told me so now. I... I think know why I became
angry though."
Qui-Gon merely looked at him, waiting for Obi-Wan.
Concentrating on his joined hands, Obi-Wan said, "You... spoke
of my virginity. Of me being inexperienced. A child. And..."
He struggled for words that would not harm his master. Too
open, and he would reveal his jealousy, reveal how much he
wished that his master had never made a promise not to want
him. How much Obi-Wan wished Qui-Gon to break that promise,
wished to break it for him...
"Sometimes you seem very young to me, padawan. Forgive me for
any insult."
That just made it worse. "You said that, when the Primus was
openly flirting with you. I felt..."
At the time, he'd felt jealous of Vedia. But he could not say
that. And Qui-Gon's comment about his youth stung. "You think
I'm young. I feel like a child being allowed to stay up with
the adults."
Qui-Gon considered his statement. "I did not mean that."
Obi-Wan nodded. "I know. I-- really, I understand. There's
nothing to talk about."
Qui-Gon's gaze sharpened, and Obi-Wan quailed. He should have
known better than to try to bluff a Jedi master, his own
master.
"There's something more," Qui-Gon said. "But you're correct.
You aren't a child, and accordingly, you should be allowed to
deal with the consequences of your own decisions. As long as it
does not interfere with our mission. You may be an adult, but
you are still my padawan."
Qui-Gon was letting the issue go. Obi-Wan knew he should feel
relieved, but instead, he felt dully unhappy.
"Master?"
"Yes, padawan?"
He could ask, and Qui-Gon would help him deal with his
jealousy. But Obi-Wan knew that his master would judge him
accordingly. Would alter his behavior so as to avoid tempting
Obi-Wan with something he couldn't have. Would cut back the
precious, intimate connection that they had now.
"You're right, master. This is something I need to deal with
on my own."
"As you wish." Qui-Gon leaned forward, and for a moment, his
hand covered Obi-Wan's. "Remember, I am here if you need me."
He stood and left the room.
Obi-Wan remained in the chair, with his arms wrapped around
himself so that he would not shake. Qui-Gon was not here for
him, not in this. And Obi-Wan could never bring him in. For
Qui-Gon's honor, for his own, he had to cope with this himself.
Somehow.
When negotiations resumed the next afternoon, Obi-Wan noticed
that the Primus seemed to be taking the rejection well. Her
attitude toward Qui-Gon was slightly cooler, but noticeable,
Obi-Wan thought, only to someone like himself, who was watching
for every seduction tactic that she used against his master.
What unsettled him were the small touches she laid on his own
body. A hand placed on his shoulder when she stood, ostensibly
for balance, a touch to indicate sympathy... Why was she
touching him? It would have made sense if she were touching
Qui-Gon, but him?
Obi-Wan didn't like Vedia, and the feeling was getting
stronger. After what she had said to him yesterday, he
especially didn't understand why she was behaving this way.
What did she think it would gain her? Not his trust, certainly.
"And what is your favorite time of the day, Padawan Kenobi?"
the Primus asked.
It seemed like an innocent question. "Night."
"Ohhhh." She smiled, her mouth turning up in a knowing smirk.
"I can think of many things one can do in the night."
I'll bet you can. He tried not to glare at her.
She continued, "Nights on Taliaferro are very special. When
shared with a guest, even more so."
He contemplated kicking her. "I'm sure they are," he said
neutrally.
"Perhaps you misunderstand me. Which side of the bed do you
prefer? Right, left, or sprawled out across the middle?"
It didn't take a Jedi to get her point. Sweetly, he said,
"Wherever my master leaves room for me."
The Tertius and Qui-Gon laughed, as they were meant to.
The Primus did not laugh. She looked vexed.
"No, padawan," Qui-Gon said. "On those occasions where we have
to share a bed, I recall that I am the one who must
demand space from you."
From Qui-Gon, he could accept the teasing. "Because otherwise
I would have nowhere to sleep."
The Jedi master shook his head and sighed showily. "Such are
the difficulties of our lives."
Vedia turned on Qui-Gon. "And you, Master Jinn? What is your
favorite time of day? Or do you wake up incoherent and violent
like your padawan?"
In the context of their discussions, it was an acceptable
remark. Obi-Wan let it pass.
The master smiled at her. "The evening as well, although I
prefer the twilight, just after the sun has set, but before all
light is gone from the sky."
"Perhaps if you have the time, I could introduce you to some
of Taliaferro's cultural offerings. Would you prefer, say, a
music recital or an art exhibit?"
"Either would be welcome."
Her smile grew edged. "Surely you must have a personal
preference, Master Jinn?"
"Art then."
Obi-Wan kept a straight face but knew the reason why.
Generally, most culture's art did not cause physical damage.
The same could not be said of their music. To be deafened by
some of what they had endured as diplomatic necessity would
have been a mercy.
The conversation proceeded through more small talk. How this
constituted vital negotiations, Obi-Wan could only wonder. The
chief item under negotiation seemed to be themselves.
And that, he was certain, was non-negotiable. It was, after
all, not the first time the issue had come up. He thought that
Qui-Gon must have been tempted at least once to sell him for
the prices, favors or other amenities offered, especially when
he had been younger and more difficult to deal with.
At the end of the evening, Obi-Wan made his excuses to his
master early. Not so early as to be rude, but early enough to
hopefully avoid another scene at the door like last night's.
Before he left, he saw Vedia take Qui-Gon's arm. A scene
seemed inevitable. She would again insist on walking Qui-Gon
back to his quarters, and again would need to be politely
encouraged to leave. A scene which Obi-Wan had no intention of
witnessing.
He made it to their suite in good time.
Their empty suite.
He knew what he should do. Meditate.
Obi-Wan found his way to his knees, and settled into a
comfortable posture. Closing his eyes, he centered himself and
tried to let go.
Let go of his concerns. Let go of the uneasy way he felt about
Vedia. Let go of his own jealousy. The way he felt about
Qui-Gon. Let go of his worry for Qui-Gon and for these
negotiations. Let go...
His mind gradually evened out, and he thought he felt calmer
until he realized that he was using the inner stillness to
listen for Qui-Gon.
He let his breath out heavily and started over again.
But as he attempted to center, he heard the door opening, and
Qui-Gon and his companion entering. "Thank you for your
kindness, Primus."
"It was my pleasure, I assure you." A small gasp. "Are these
the rooms you were assigned to?"
Sharp tappity footsteps came closer. Obi-Wan remained very
still, hoping that she would not see him in the cluttered decor
of the room. Neither she nor his master appeared to notice him.
It was impossible not to listen now, and he didn't try.
"Yes, they are."
"But they aren't nearly good enough for someone of your...
stature."
His master was armed with a lightsaber, Obi-Wan reminded
himself. She could not push Qui-Gon down on the couch and
seduce him. Not without his cooperation, at any rate.
"A Jedi's life is dedicated to service, Primus. Taliaferro has
honored us greatly with its hospitality."
"Tonight, and last night, I could almost imagine that you
enjoyed my company. Is that not so, Qui-Gon?"
"Primus..."
"Vedia, please."
Qui-Gon used neither. "The company was very enjoyable."
"I feel the same way about you. In fact, I don't really want
to stop enjoying your company."
"I'm very flattered, but I must rest. Tomorrow is already
here."
"Yes, I'm sure you must."
Bitterness was evident in her tone. Obi-Wan winced.
She continued speaking. "I'll see you later today then. I...
do hope though that you will speak to your padawan."
"Oh?"
"I have a feeling that he dislikes me." Her voice had turned
self-pitying. "I don't know why. Perhaps it's because I
couldn't say yes to the dear boy when he approached me
yesterday. But I feel so sorry for him. You will speak to him,
won't you?"
"Thank you for your confidence in me. I will talk to him."
Obi-Wan didn't look up, but he could hear that she wasn't
leaving, and imagined what she might be doing.
His master didn't seem to be protesting.
He risked a glance. Vedia had pressed herself against Qui-Gon,
and was rubbing her palm against the point of his shoulder.
Qui-Gon stood there, very still, head bent over hers, and for a
moment, Obi-Wan had a brief flash of something more.
What if... what if his master wanted there to be more. Not
necessarily with Vedia, but with someone else? And his promise
to Obi-Wan was holding him back? The thought sent a shaft of
horrified guilt through Obi-Wan. He hadn't thought that Qui-Gon
wanted that, but the way he was bent over Vedia, who wasn't
exactly a sterling example of humanity certainly seemed to
indicate that he might want more. And if he did, and Obi-Wan
was standing in his way... He held very still, eyes closed
again, waiting.
When Vedia finally turned and left, he felt relieved.
It was a dim hope that Qui-Gon hadn't seen him.
"Obi-Wan?"
Very dim. "Yes, master?"
"Would you please come here?"
Obi-Wan took a seat in the same chair he'd used the night
before, preparing himself for a lecture.
"You were right," Qui-Gon said abruptly. "I dismissed your
concerns too quickly yesterday."
"About the Primus?"
He nodded.
Obi-Wan felt immensely reassured. "Master, what I don't
understand is why. What does she hope to gain?"
"On the surface, it seems simple enough. She wants a sexual
relationship."
"But why say threatening things to me yesterday, then today,
well, the way she acted at the negotiations? And then what she
said now? It doesn't make sense."
"I believe that Vedia is unaware that we are linked, and that
I know that she was lying just now. Or that your attitude alone
would have caused me to think that something was the matter. If
she is unaware of that, perhaps then she may also be unaware
that she can't have what she wants of me?"
Obi-Wan regarded him. Qui-Gon would not lie to him, but...
"Your politeness could be misread."
"Courtesy is important in diplomacy." . "No. I would never."
Qui-Gon touched his hair. "Thank you, Obi-Wan. That means a
great deal to me."
He clasped his hands together to keep from reaching out. Not
that he would ever be so uncontrolled in his actions.
His master sat down. "How then will we deal with her?"
Obi-Wan smiled ruefully at him. "Is this to be an exercise for
the padawan?"
"As you wish."
"Open confrontation would cause difficulty in the
negotiations. The Taliaferrans would not like to deal with us
if we humiliated their Primus. In order to succeed in that
arena, she must be appeased or finessed somehow. As appeasement
is not an option, finesse seems the obvious approach."
"Well said."
"Only I don't know how we'd go about that." His mouth turned
up ruefully. "I'd need to know more about her, and more about
Taliaferro in general, to find out what's acceptable, what
she's likely to do, and what can be done."
"Or if nothing can be done. It may be necessary to arrange for
another negotiator to replace us."
"Perhaps. But it seems to me..."
"Yes?"
Obi-Wan turned a troubled gaze on Qui-Gon. "I think I need to
release you from a promise you made to me in error."
"What is that, padawan?" Qui-Gon's face was set in its most
unreadable lines.
"You promised me once that you would never engage in a sexual
relationship with me. I... understand that, and I don't argue
with your reasons. But it occurred to me today that you may
have taken that as a far larger promise. You don't get involved
in any intimate relationships anymore that I know of. I
might be wrong, but if I'm not -- master, I don't believe I
have any right to ask that of you. To ask you to be celibate or
alone. By keeping you to that promise, I'm restraining who and
what you are."
"Padawan..."
"I know I shouldn't bring this up, not now, and I apologize
for my timing, but..."
"Obi-Wan, cease."
He immediately closed his mouth, but didn't look up. When he
finally could bring his eyes to meet Qui-Gon's, he found his
master smiling affectionately at him.
"Your concern is appreciated, Obi-Wan, but I truly have no
desire to pursue other relationships right now. I... I have
found through recent and painful experience that doing so is
not as rewarding as it may seem. As much as I or any other
person might wish connection, a relationship should be about
more than sex, about love. Without that... I am more content in
our teaching bond than I would be in any hypothetical
relationship."
"Thank you, master." There was no reason to be embarrassed
now, and therefore Obi-Wan could not possibly be struggling to
control that emotion, along with his deep gratitude. "Still,
please... I don't want you to feel bound."
Qui-Gon regarded him levelly. "Don't you? Would you really
prefer that I openly take a lover? Could you view such an
eventuality with serenity?"
He shook his head. "I... felt jealous of the Primus." Obi-Wan
smiled crookedly. "Even as I knew she would not make a suitable
partner for you, I still felt that way."
"Do you feel jealousy now?"
"No. You are aware of the threat she poses; I have no further
fear on that score."
"Fear is what jealousy is, Obi-Wan. Your fear of losing me."
"I must eventually," Obi-Wan said, striving to sound mature.
"Should I pass my trials, I will become a knight, and you will
have a different path than mine. I... I know you are not for
me."
Qui-Gon opened his arms, and Obi-Wan did not resist, but
instead buried himself in that warmth. "It must be this way. We
must separate and you must have your own identity apart from
mine. I cannot bind you to me or allow you to entwine yourself
with me. No matter how much we wish it."
We? The choice of word gave him hope. A hope that
perhaps should not exist. Daring all, Obi-Wan leaned up, just a
little, reached out -- and kissed his master.
He felt firm lips under his, and a shock of surprise from
Qui-Gon. Surprise. Not response. The baffled, off-kilter
reaction of someone who could not even imagine why he was being
kissed.
It was nothing, and worse than nothing.
Obi-Wan slid back, out of Qui-Gon's arms, kneeling on the
floor without even realizing he was doing so, needing to humble
himself, to supplicate before this man whose privacy he had
just breached so badly. "I'm sorry, Master. Please forgive me."
A hand touched his hair lightly, barely there. "You are
forgiven, Obi-Wan. I... did not expect that of you."
Did not expect. Did not think that Obi-Wan would be so crass
as to break their agreement. He looked up into Qui-Gon's eyes,
hoping even now to see something -- and finding only the same
non-comprehension. Qui-Gon had not been touched by that kiss,
was not moved by what Obi-Wan had felt. Obi-Wan had acted, had
destroyed their fragile balance -- and for less than nothing.
At least... at least Qui-Gon accepted his apology. "Thank
you."
The hand fell away.
Obi-Wan knelt there numbly. He had to say something. Had to
make reparations. When he could bring himself to speak, his
voice was flat, broken. "I understand now. You do not wish it.
Even if the situation was different, if we had met under
different circumstances and I was not your padawan. You would
still not wish it."
Qui-Gon made as to reach out for him, as though he would pull
Obi-Wan into his arms to comfort his padawan, but instead he
sat back. Sat back. And Obi-Wan understood then that he had
also damaged this. Destroyed what intimacy lay between them
until Qui-Gon could not dare to touch him lest Obi-Wan think it
something more. It was what he had feared, but all the worse
for being real.
He felt the tears spilling over the edges of his eyes before
he even knew he was crying.
"No," Qui-Gon said softly, in a tone of finality, replying in
words to the same question he had just answered by his actions.
"No, I would not."
Going into the room set aside for negotiations the next
afternoon was like falling. Like the moment in a kata when
concentration slipped, and the Force too hard to reach for, and
the only thing left was to fall and to feel the pain.
"Oh, yes," Vedia was saying as Obi-Wan sat down, before
turning back to her avid audience. "Master Qui-Gon tastes like
lafaleh berries. With cream. Mrowr."
Obi-Wan ignored the comment. If she wanted everyone to think
that she'd bedded Qui-Gon, then she could do so. He knew
better. He just hoped his master didn't hear that. Because
he does taste like that. Like a spoonful of ripe berries in
milk.
Qui-Gon took his own seat, completing the array of diplomats.
"It sounds as though you were telling a very interesting story,
Primus," he said casually. "Would you care to share it with
me?"
"Ah, Master Qui-Gon -- there is very little I would not care
to share with you." She smiled seductively, then lifted her cup
and offered it to him.
And Qui-Gon took the cup.
Obi-Wan hadn't expected that. After the Primus' story, it was
clear to him what Vedia intended to share with his master.
Herself. Wherever she could and as often as possible.
On the other hand, his master might not have heard what Vedia
had been saying.
He wanted to warn Qui-Gon -- but of what? That the Primus
desired him? His master already knew that.
Raising the cup, Qui-Gon said, "To peace." And then he drank
from it, and the day's negotiations began.
Although nothing had happened, Obi-Wan could not escape the
feeling that something would. He remained on guard after that,
wary of every overture Vedia made to Qui-Gon. It did not help
that Vedia was sharing her meal with Qui-Gon and that he had to
watch her raising her fork and depositing morsels of food onto
his master's lips.
It did not help at all.
A servant placed a cup before him, and Obi-Wan drank from it,
hardly registering the flavor of the liquid. It was strong, and
he welcomed that. A small amount of alcohol would not interfere
with his ability to function this evening, and might help blunt
the pain. Just the one cup more than he might ordinarily have
drunk. It wouldn't be too much.
Obi-Wan finished the cup quickly, drinking steadily from it
rather than sipping at it, and set it down.
"...we believe that the trade concessions we're asking for are
no more than fair," the Tertius was saying.
"Fair, I suppose, if you're using the word to mean slanted in
your favor, Sandrian."
"Hah. You always say that, Elis. Even when you're winning."
The woman identified as Elis grinned, and shrugged. "Can't
blame a person for trying. The idea is to win, not to be fair."
"Well, I know all about you, so you can just forget about
that."
Elis tilted her head. "I suppose it could be worse. I could be
using sexual favors to win over the mediator of our dispute."
Vedia laughed, a trilling sound that sent waves of nausea
through Obi-Wan. "You're just jealous because you didn't think
of it first."
Now that was worthy of a reply. Even if his master had given
in to the Primus, he would never let it affect his judgment.
And the Taliaferrans would expect a retort. A sharp reply would
be only diplomatic.
He opened his mouth -- and had to close it abruptly, choking
back a groan of pain. He felt ill. Very ill. The cramping pain
and the nausea led to an obvious conclusion, but they had been
on the planet long enough for the signs of digestive
disagreements to have already appeared. And they had not. So it
wasn't that.
Obi-Wan heard Qui-Gon rumble something, but could not make
sense of the words. All that mattered was containing the pain,
and not harming the negotiations due to his sudden illness.
He stood, using the table for support. "If you will excuse
me?" Qui-Gon did not even look up. Obi-Wan registered a casual,
affirmative reply, and walked out, back straight, with his head
high. Despite the cost of it, he did not allow that control to
falter until he was safely in their quarters.
Then he collapsed on his bed. Healing trance. That was what he
needed. It should be enough to take care of the pain. He would
not need to alert the Taliaferrans to his condition; he could
easily handle the minor medical problem by himself. But going
into such a trance would mean letting his shields down,
possibly swamping Qui-Gon with Obi-Wan's pain. And he could not
do that. At least one of them must remain capable to negotiate.
This was a trifling illness. He could endure until his master
returned. However late -- or early -- that might be.
Obi-Wan folded inward, concentrating on holding himself in,
waiting, alone in the dark. At least here he could freely moan
in pain. Hollow comfort. But it was all he had.
Qui-Gon noticed Obi-Wan's departure, and initially assumed
that his apprentice was departing for a brief trip to the
refresher. When Obi-Wan failed to return, he sent a brief pulse
down their training bond. It was possible that something
had happened to him. Another encounter in the corridors --
although Vedia had never stood up from the table.
He could feel his padawan's presence, but little more.
Obi-Wan's shields were blocking him, preventing him from a
deeper contact. Qui-Gon got the sense that there was something
Obi-Wan didn't want him to find out, but no additional sense of
danger or alarm. Had their talk the evening before so upset
Obi-Wan that the young man had needed to leave?
Qui-Gon did not like to think that Obi-Wan would put his
personal life over his responsibility in that manner -- but if
he had to leave, he had done so in a professional manner, with
no harm done to the negotiations. Indeed, those present
scarcely seemed to notice his padawan's absence.
I will speak to him in the morning. We must resolve this
somehow. Qui-Gon could not give Obi-Wan what the young man
wanted, and he was sad, but whether for himself or for Obi-Wan,
he could not have said.
The feverish half-twilight of his thoughts made it difficult
for Obi-Wan to concentrate. It was important that he not fall
asleep, because his shielding would certainly slip then -- it
was the only thing keeping him for calling him from medical
assistance. He needed that help now -- and he was certain that
one of the first things they would do would be to sedate him.
And he couldn't have that. He had to stay conscious until his
master returned. Couldn't let Qui-Gon down. Not ever, and
especially not now.
A scrape of wood against metal alerted him to the presence of
someone else in the suite.
Not a servant. Please, not a servant.
Obi-Wan pulled himself up with shaking hands and, clutching at
the furniture and the wall, made his way to the door. Movement
hurt. He wanted to crawl, but it be slower and would only
prolong the pain. All he needed to do was get to the door, and
then he could see who had come in. And if it was a servant...
perhaps he could lie on the floor instead of trying to make it
all the way back to the bed.
No. That would worry whoever it was. He'd have to find a chair
then. Something.
Sweat stood out from his body even though he was almost
trembling from the cold. So far...
Obi-Wan pushed the door open, and caught sight of a familiar
shade of brown, and the even more familiar tones of his
master's voice. He clung to the doorjamb for support,
listening.
"Why not?" a female voice said. Vedia's voice. "If your
apprentice is gone, surely you have nothing to worry about."
"The hour is still late..."
"Or very early," she purred. Then her eyes met Obi-Wan's.
"You," she hissed, then, abruptly, she changed, letting go of
Qui-Gon's tunic and stepping toward him, face full of concern.
"You seem ill. Perhaps I should call for the doctors."
Obi-Wan swayed back instinctively, not wanting her to touch
him, and lost his precarious balance. At least Qui-Gon is
here, he thought nonsensically, as he crumpled onto the
floor.
He lost track of time or place, along with most of his
consciousness, enveloped in a heavy blackness like the inside
of Qui-Gon's cloak. It was a comfortable place to be, soothing
after the long hours of battling his pain alone.
But a voice kept pulling at him, calling him away from that
comfort. #Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan, you must wake up. I need you awake
to help me.#
He didn't want to wake up. Didn't want to return to a reality
where his master disliked him and...
#Obi-Wan,# the voice said, sterner now. #I don't dislike you.
You know better than that.#
_It's true,_ he argued, brought back into awareness by the
need to protest. _He doesn't want me. Doesn't want anything to
do with me now._
#I'm right here. You must wake up. Please, Obi-Wan. I need you
to do this for me.#
_Please?_ Qui-Gon wouldn't plead with him. He'd order Obi-Wan,
and Obi-Wan would have to obey.
#Really?# the grimly amused voice said. #You don't seem very
obedient right now.#
_That sounds like Qui-Gon,_ Obi-Wan thought, reluctantly
allowing himself to be drawn up into full consciousness. It was
not as bad a place to be as he would have imagined. The pain he
had been feeling was gone, and although he felt as weak as an
initiate after performing all of the Elemental katas in order,
he was cradled against Qui-Gon's chest. A most comfortable
place to be. His mind babbled happily. _I love you, you know.
And maybe you can't have me, but who would be first on your
list of people to have sexual intercourse with if you were
going to? Me, that's who. 'Cause..._
"Obi-Wan, ssh. Be quiet. I need you to concentrate for me."
Concentrate. What was that? He made an attempt, and croaked
out loud. "Qui-Gon?"
"Yes. What happened?"
"...don't know. Something I ate. Don't feel good."
His master nodded. Obi-Wan felt long hair brushing against his
face and neck with that movement. "I need you to enter a
healing trance. Will you do that?"
"Can't do that."
"You must. You're dangerously ill, and you've reached the
limit of what I can do for you. I've been in trance with you
for..."
Qui-Gon's voice faded away for him, and Obi-Wan let himself
drift. He felt a nearly overwhelming need to sleep. He
shouldn't though. He knew that. Shouldn't sleep or go into a
healing trance because of something about his master. He
couldn't remember quite what.
After a moment, the mental voice returned. It could not be
ignored as easily as the spoken words. #I'm going to lead you
through beginning a healing trance. Try to focus on me and what
I'm telling you.#
_You._
#Right,# said the strangely impatient voice of the man he
loved.
When Obi-Wan woke again, it was to a clear mind. He remembered
what had happened. And worse, what he had said to his master.
He felt flushed and ill, unable to tell whether the urge to
vomit was coming from what he was feeling or from the lingering
remnants of his illness. The dizziness and heaviness of his
head kept him from doing more than opening his eyes.
He was resting in a bed, not the one he'd spent the rest of
his stay on Taliaferro in. He could see the back of Qui-Gon's
head over the edge of the bed; his master was no doubt
meditating. His calm, balanced master who had his padawan's
problems and doubts and faults to somehow deal with along with
his own.
If it would have made things easier, Obi-Wan would happily
have found a way to open up the Force and disappear inside. As
it was...
"Hello?" he said through a dry throat.
Qui-Gon turned, then stood and pulled a chair forward to sit
in. "Good afternoon, Obi-Wan."
"How long have I been out? I -- this didn't have an effect on
the negotiations, did it?"
"Over a day, and yes, it has. When one of the negotiators is
poisoned, it often has an effect on the negotiations at hand."
The droll tone made him feel better; the situation must be all
right if Qui-Gon was willing to show signs of humor. Even if
what he'd just said were true... "Poisoned? Why?"
Qui-Gon sighed, and for a moment, looked very tired. "I can't
say. At the heart of it, I suppose, it's my fault."
"Your fault?" He would have sat upright if his body weren't
drained from the healing trance. Would have reached out to his
master to comfort him. But it wasn't possible, and he had to
make do with inadequate words. "It was not your fault."
"But it was." Qui-Gon offered a small smile which was, in some
way, more sad than tears would have been. "You see, you were
poisoned by the Primus. For the sole and express purpose of
acquiring me as her lover. After you went into trance, I began
investigating. The plot was simple to uncover; the Primus'
servants were horrified to be part of a deadly prank -- they'd
been told you would be dosed with an aphrodisiac."
"Perfectly normal Taliaferran diplomacy."
"Not perfectly normal anymore. Not when dealing with my
padawan." Qui-Gon looked grim. "We are leaving Taliaferro, and
they are welcome to settle their own dispute. This is not worth
your life."
The words, 'But a Jedi lives to serve' were on Obi-Wan's lips,
but he did not say them. Not now. His doubt however... "I know
it's an unworthy thought, but I'm glad of that. They didn't
need us to begin with, and... well--" he could say it now;
Vedia's part was out in the open. "I think -- thought -- that
the Primus was also drawing the talks out, trying to win you."
"You may be right. The Primus proclaimed her innocence even
after three witnesses confirmed that she'd asked them to add
something to your wine. I have no doubt of her intentions. But
the Taliaferrans believe her. And any additional evidence could
only be gained by either using a mind probe, or waiting for her
to try again, neither of which I consider to be a good
alternative. She does not need, nor does she get, another try."
"Thank you."
Eyebrows lifted. "For what, padawan?"
"Saving my life."
"It was my duty and my pleasure, Obi-Wan."
He nodded. Qui-Gon stood up, and made to leave. Obi-Wan could
map out their new itinerary in his head. In no more than a few
hours, Qui-Gon would have them off-planet. Obi-Wan would be
spending his recovery time aboard ship. He would need practice
and exercise to bring himself back into form, but nothing so
much that it would interfere with them being given a new
mission before they could return to Coruscant. However, given
the unusual ending of this mission, it was likely that they
would be debriefed by the Council. Obi-Wan found himself
welcoming that possibility. He needed space between himself and
his master. Needed to put something, if only a chunk of
echoing emptiness between the two of them, so that this
unreturned emotion would fade away, would cease to sicken him,
and cease causing him to say and do things he wished he had
not.
Even as he planned that, though, he suspected that separation
from his master was not the answer. As soon as they were
partnered once again whether in training or on a mission, he
would feel the same things again. Feel caring for Qui-Gon, a
wish to ease his tiredness, cheer his waking moments, to be
near him as often as possible, and to give him whatever Obi-Wan
had to give.
Feel the same things, and continue acting in the same,
unacceptable way, wishing for something he could not have and
-- if he were truly honest with himself -- did not wish. Not
against Qui-Gon's will. Not at the cost of a broken promise.
"Master?" Obi-Wan said quietly.
Qui-Gon paused at the door and looked back. "Yes?"
The words were hard, but he needed to say them. "I'm sorry. I
don't know how to make things better, and maybe an apology
isn't worth anything if I know I'm just going to do the same
thing over again, but, I'm sorry. So sorry."
Qui-Gon did not ask what Obi-Wan was sorry for. After a long
moment, he nodded, "Thank you, my padawan. I -- I cannot say
that it helps anything, but... thank you."
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