Questions Well Answered
by Merry Amelie
Title: Questions Well Answered
Author: Merry Amelie
Archive: MA only
Categories: Qui/Obi, Romance
Rating: G
Summary: Obi-Wan is tested.
My MA story page is here.
Feedback: Is treasured at MerryAmelie@aol.com.
Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
For
My beta team: Nerowill, Emila-Wan, and Carol
Mali Wane for posting
My former betas: Alex, Ula, and Padawan Sue
Many thanks to Little Owl, who gave me invaluable POV advice.
References:
1) "Ruggers are small, furry rodents, found on the forest moon of Endor." [Source: List of Star Wars creatures - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia]
2) "The Quarren or Qarren, were one of several aquatic sentient species from the planet Dac, called by off-worlders Mon Calamari." [Source: Quarren - Wookieepedia, the Star Wars Wiki]
To Obi-ki, with my thanks for inspiring this story with her 'Question' prompt for TPM 100.
'What would you do if you developed feelings for your Master?'
Obi-Wan's shields slammed up before he came to the end of the sentence. It was the last question on his Ethics final exam. He scowled at the glowing green letters in disbelief, almost at the point of wishing the Mind Trick could be used on inanimate objects, so he could will the letters to change on his datapad. He had not expected his Ethics final to be quite this personal. While it was a speculative question, it hit too close to Coruscant for the Senior Padawan. He had only been grappling with this very question for the past five years now.
How many times had it teased him in the small corners of relaxation he had Ruggered away in the midst of his hectic schedule? How many times had it brought to his nights an urgent passion so different from his duty-filled days?
He felt as if his private life would be on display for dispassionate analysis by his instructor, Master Zenno, a Quarren who did not even share the same frame of reference as his species. He would sacrifice much to become a Jedi Knight, but the very core of his being should be off-limits as a subject for his coursework.
At this point, his Trials were at least two years away, and that was when he'd anticipated being tested in this invasive manner. He had hoped to develop a defense against just this sort of quandary in the intervening years. But now, all he felt was frustration, both at himself and at the pinpoint accuracy of the question in laying bare his innermost self.
Who came up with these exams, anyway? He snuck a look at Jocasta Nu, who was discreetly proctoring right outside his cubicle, and seemed disinclined to answer any questions, even rhetorical ones. They should have been written by his instructor; instead, the Evaluation Committee, with its secretive, rotating membership of Masters, did the honors.
Had he inadvertently revealed his feelings for Master Jinn to the sharp eyes of someone on the committee?
How to answer? Truthfully, of course, but as a well-trained diplomat, he knew there were many permutations of the truth. After much pondering, and more than a little backspacing, he wrote:
'I would accept these feelings as the gift from the Force they are and use them as motivation to further my training, so that one day, I might walk by my Master's side, not two steps behind him.'
Asked in the conditional tense, he had answered that way. Luckily, the conditional covered a multitude of ifs.
A short, elegant reply to a question he'd not been prepared to deal with for years, especially in such a public manner. He had totally excised passion from his response, just as a Jedi should. But the passion was there nonetheless and would not be denied, not by a Force-sensitive, vibrant down to his very core.
He got up from his carrel, still a bit stunned by this unexpected ordeal and the bluntness of his answer. Handing his datapad to Master Nu with a seasoned grin, he put up his hood for the walk back to his quarters.
As soon as he came in, Obi-Wan could see that his Master was aware of his difficulties that afternoon. One look into piercing blue eyes told him as much. He didn't want to think about what one look away from them told Qui-Gon. He'd clearly not raised his shields fast enough to prevent his Master from sensing his emotional turmoil.
He was in for it now.
Ever a good Master, Qui-Gon was bound to question him about his lapse. Obi-Wan fought an involuntary shudder at the prospect. He'd hoped to keep all of this private until his Knighthood.
"Padawan, please set the table," his Master began innocuously.
"Yes, Master," said Obi-Wan, grateful for the opportunity to fall comfortably into one of their rituals. After hanging up his cloak, he put his remaining datapads on the desk in his room, washed his hands of the sweat that had sheened them in the last hour, and placed plates and utensils on the table. Water on the boil for hulaka tea could not have been more roiling than his emotions here and now.
Fortunately, his Master had disappeared into the kitchen; if his luck held, he wouldn't have to face him until they started the meal. Just when Obi-Wan had begun to simmer down, he heard the rustle of Masterly tunics coming towards him.
His Master brought out a tray with their tea and plain fare -- vegetables and grains in marisculante sauce -- and they both sat down to eat.
Luckily, Qui-Gon seemed to be concentrating on his food for the first little while, allowing Obi-Wan a measure of calm. His tea was something of a restorative for him, seeing him through good times and bad for years, even predating his apprenticeship to the man who sat before him.
When he finished eating, Qui-Gon made light conversation; even through his haze of apprehension, Obi-Wan appreciated the attempt to ease him into their usual routine. However, Obi-Wan could not muster more than a series of monosyllabic answers, raising his tea mug to counter any expectation of a real reply.
Obi-Wan continued to use his tea as a delaying tactic every time he could have reasonably been expected to join in the conversation, which had become a monologue with an occasional pause, instead.
Finally, Qui-Gon pushed his plate away and with it, seemingly, his patience. "Well, Padawan, let's relax on the terrace."
"Master, the dishes --" Obi-Wan began somewhat desperately.
"Will keep, Padawan." Qui-Gon looked into eyes Obi-Wan knew were anything but calm and added, "Please, Obi-Wan."
He had never been able to ignore a direct entreaty from his Master, and that was not about to change now. He got up to follow Qui-Gon, reluctance in every step, and walked out to their terrace. The coolness of the breeze was bracing; the scent of the tanderanda flowers his Master had cultivated was soothing. These small delights made it easier for Obi-Wan to mount a heroic effort to relax and release his worries to the Force.
Qui-Gon sat back in his chair, long legs propped on a hassock that looked almost as old as Master Yoda, at least to Obi-Wan. The breeze blew his hair back, a natural replacement for the hair tie habitually left on the arm of the couch, and Obi-Wan just drank him in, forgetting everything else for one blissful moment.
He felt his Master's gaze, warm upon him in the coolness of the evening. Qui-Gon's words were as warm as the tenderness in his blue, blue eyes. "After so many years together, I'm used to your jitters before exams, but I've never felt anything like that before."
Obi-Wan remained silent, cursing his slow reaction time, which had left his shields down a fraction of a second too long.
His Master's voice gentled even more. "My friend, I hope you know that you can tell me anything. Do you trust me, Obi-Wan?"
*Obi-Wan* -- not 'Padawan'. Qui-Gon was asking him that question as one man to another, not as a Master to his apprentice. He owed him an answer on that level of friendship, nothing less. But the words wouldn't come.
Qui-Gon reached over to take his hand in a firm but tender grip. He didn't say anything more, just looked at Obi-Wan with his heart -- the most generous in all the Order -- in his eyes.
"I trust you, Qui-Gon." The words came out on a sigh of relief so profound it was like the whisper of the Force itself.
And the relief spread to imbue Qui-Gon's answer. "Thank you, Obi-Wan." He tightened his grip on Obi-Wan's hand. "Will you please share with me what Master Zenno asked you?"
A fortifying breath, then Obi-Wan nodded, the physical motion steadying him and readying him to give his answer. "The exact question was this: 'What would you do if you developed feelings for your Master?'"
An intake of breath noticeable even over the rustle of the breeze gave Obi-Wan yet another answer. Obi-Wan hazarded a glance at Qui-Gon, who was now as unpredictable as the next lightsaber strike in the sparring match their conversation had become. For the first time, Obi-Wan considered the situation from Qui-Gon's point of view. His Master -- who had raised serenity to an art form -- was startled by the question. Why?
Realizing that clear thinking here was not only important for his vocation as a Jedi but also crucial to his private life as a man, he pondered the answer to this riddle. Qui-Gon was sitting stunned beside him. Was he rendered speechless by the question's intimacy? Or could it be his own reaction to it?
It was Obi-Wan's turn to squeeze Qui-Gon's hand in reassurance. "I guess they don't run these questions by our Masters, huh?" he said, trying to use humor to leaven the situation.
"No, they don't," Qui-Gon said, his uneven voice sounding foreign to Obi-Wan's ears. Obi-Wan knew his Master had ceded the upper hand to him by this admission, but maybe that was long overdue in such an inherently unequal relationship.
Obi-Wan, trained to detect every nuance of speech and bearing by his diplomatic studies, used these skills to his advantage now. It was beginning to look like his Master was as nervous as he, perhaps for the very same reasons. This possibility surprised and delighted him. It was truly the last way he'd imagined their conversation would turn out, when all of his foreboding had centered on the certainty of his utter humiliation.
His new insights gave him the strength he needed to proceed. "Master Zenno's question seems to have startled both of us." He waited for Qui-Gon's nod to continue. "I was surprised because I've been struggling to answer that very question for the past five years."
He saw the comprehension dawn in Qui-Gon's eyes, more beautiful than the sunrise, at least from a certain Padawan's point of view.
What looked very much like pride to Obi-Wan's wondering gaze shone in every line of Qui-Gon's face and resonated in his voice. His Master said, "And all of those years, I've been struggling to answer a question of my own, a complementary one, if you will: What would you do if you developed feelings for your Padawan?"
Obi-Wan gasped, stunned anew, this time by the directness of his Master. Eons of futile speculation on his part had finally yielded to this reality, in which Qui-Gon took immediate action. A deceptively simple exam question had led them to this Moment.
"And how did you resolve it?" Obi-Wan said in a whisper.
"Does this answer your question, my Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon asked as he leaned over to kiss his joyful apprentice.
And, indeed, it did.
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