Master Apprentice Archive Shouting Quietly Quick search:

Rating: PG

Archive: MA please, anyone else just ask

Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi celebrates his first Padawan's Knighting, and receives congratulations from unexpected quarters.

Notes: Yes, this is a massive AU. Imagine the whole Naboo business never happened, okay? I still suspect this is different from most of your AUs out there ... :) Thanks to whoever it was that posed me that fist-line challenge (I lost the message, but you're out there! Briony? Rei? Kylara? Sith, I really don't know ... ) and to the unknown pretty boy at the Frankfurt Gay Pride Parade who provided the template for Knight Felthan Ub.

Feedback: Feed me, make me happy! :)

"I don't care how sexy you think it is -- I am not wearing thong underwear!" Obi-Wan Kenobi swatted his lover's hands away, complete with the offending garment offered. If that could be called a garment at all. It was certainly not fit for the ceremony at hand, and much less so for the frame of mind Obi-Wan thought appropriate for the ceremony.

Knight Felthan Ub retreated in mock hurt, not without giving Obi-Wan a good view of his naked rear before sweeping his curly black hair over his shoulder and murmuring, "For a moment I would very nearly have forgotten how old my dear Obi-Wan has suddenly become. Sorry, that should have been Master Kenobi." The twinkle in his dark grey eyes tried hard to be irresistible, and Force knew it usually was. Not today though. Felthan sighed and turned to face Obi-Wan who was getting into a clean and freshly-ironed set of robes.

"Just imagine, Obi ... all those unspeakable stolid councillors, and you in their midst wearing the prettiest little secret under your terminally decent leggings. Not that your ass is not a pretty little secret at any given time anyway ... ", his voice trailed off in memory of their last night together. It had been altogether too long ago. Almost a week, at the very least. It felt longer to Felthan. Obi-Wan had this habit of making time spent in the same bed without actual skin contact seem tortuously long ...

He caught himself, realising that Obi-Wan would quite simply leave the room without him if he wasn't dressed in time. Jumping into his own robes, Felthan Ub tried to instil some enthusiasm into what he thought was an altogether too serious version of Obi-Wan Kenobi. "It's not like she's going to be all sombre about the whole business, Obi. I saw her last night, literally raising hell with the rest of the Padawans. You know what Jopay's like -- all nerves before the Trials, all boasts afterwards, and hard-partying at that. I bet you any money that if we're going to see a serious face on her at all today it's because she's got a hangover the size of Coruscant! Your Padawan's the pride and joy, and occasional headache and double-vision, of the entire Padawanate, Obi, and a fine Knight she'll make too, your first-born so to speak. And here you are, looking to all the world like you've fulfilled your duty and would like to leave the universe please. Just because they can call you Master Kenobi now. Force's sake, stop being so damn old about things. Take a lesson or two from your ex-Padawan about enjoying life, if you're refusing mine. Which I do not recommend, by the way. There is such a thing as marital rape, Master Kenobi, and you know I do get dangerous occasionally ... "

With a sweet grin defusing the last sentence lest Obi-Wan in his current state should mistake it as a threat, Felthan disappeared into the kitchen, shouting quietly. "Obi? I promised Jopay one of my famed fruit salads for her after-Knighting buffet ... would you be so kind as to stay here for another minute or so and help me carry it?"

A weary rustling noise for the common room told Felthan that his bondmate had sat down on the couch, apparently unwilling to talk. He was beginning to get worried. This seemed to call for more drastic measures.

A record three minutes later, Felthan Ub reappeared from the kitchen with a large bowl of fruit salad and a slice of melon between his lips. Moreover, he had divested himself of most of his clothing again and walked proudly in nothing but a black thong, a sensuous mobile sculpture of smooth dark skin, slender but not quite thin, the body of a long-distance runner about to close the short distance between himself and Obi-Wan who groaned at the sight. Not in lust, though. Obi-Wan was annoyed, and plain refused to be seduced by his bondmate's catlike grace, or even accept the slice of lemon between Felthan's lips.

Sighing, Obi-Wan drummed his fingers on the armrest. "Would you be so kind as to get dressed, Knight Ub? The Council are waiting, as is my ex-Padawan. And I am plainly not in the mood, if that concept fits into your pretty curly head."

With an audible 'tsk', Felthan put the fruit salad down, spun around on his heel and made for the kitchen to get dressed again. He heard Obi-Wan's impatient pacing all the way to the kitchen, and the new Jedi Master's unhappiness with the general situation was even more audible over their bond, shields or not. Hells, he's only 45 standard years old, and it's not like that's even half the life expectancy for someone of his race. And look at me, I mean I'm not much younger and my first Padawan is only just 16 because I'm not the blooming high-flyer that Kenobi always pushes himself to be. Someone really ought to do something about this flaming ambition in the man. As if he's trying to prove himself worthy of being the best Master ever to have graced the Order. As if being Obi-Wan, the patient teacher, skilled warrior-diplomat, unorthodox thinker, and sensitive lover, wasn't enough. Someone ought to drum sense into him, Felthan thought. Preferably to be answered by the ecstatic moans my Obi-Wan does so well ... he sighed, willing his incipient arousal down, and was just smoothing his tunics and casting about for his robe when the Perfect Jedi Master's voice from the next room uttered a perfectly un-Masterly word.

"Sithshit!"

Curious and amused, Felthan poked his head around the door. "You were saying, Master Kenobi?" The smirk went entirely unnoticed as Obi-Wan stared at the comm screen. The blue glow made his face look more angular than it usually did, setting the tips of his mottled red beard aglow with a cold bristling fire. "Guess who's come out of the woodwork to congratulate me, and request an audience, no less. After, uh, I don't know, decades at least. The cheek." -- "Why, who is it? I'm beginning to get curious, you know, Obi?" -- "Let's get going, the Council are waiting. I'll tell you on the way there, okay? Fruit salad, robes ... Force, scissors. I don't want to have to cut it off with a lightsabre ... "

"Nah, that would be a bit of a smelly welcome into the Knightly rank for poor old Jopay. Though I somewhat doubt her sense of smell survived last night's Corellian Spice binge ... " Another knowing grin completely lost on Kenobi's robed back, Knight Felthan Ub decided to just shut up and listen for a while. Hoping that Obi-Wan was in a mood to talk.

As usual, the lift took ages coming, and Felthan regretted not being able to lay a soothing hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. Bloody fruit salad, he thought. "So, who is the long-lost relative rearing his ugly head then, Obi? You never told me you had skeletons in your closet ... "

"It's not that, Felthan. It's ... my old Master. Suddenly deciding to get back to me after twenty-one years as if all it took was just a quick comm mail and good little Obi-Wan would be right there awaiting orders. It's like ... he never bothered to contact me in all these years, you know?"

"You were ... "

"Lovers, yes. Force knows we rocked the Temple walls for the six months it lasted. And then ... okay, it might not be entirely just to say he dumped me. He didn't. Not really anyway. Though it was him who finally said that we weren't as compatible as he'd hoped we'd be. Fine, I said, let's try our separate ways then. And that was it. He just disappeared. Three months after my Knighting. Never a word, not a visit or even a bloody comm call!"

"Did you ever try to ... track him down?"

"Felthan. I'm not that desperate. Besides, he was right. We are perfectly incompatible personalities, and once the first infatuation had worn off we just found that I could not be a poet however much I wanted to, and he could not be an organiser. We started getting into fights about who would do the washing-up, it was as pathetic as that! And the sulks got longer and the firestorms in bed got shorter, and ... it had just run its course I guess. And he kept telling himself, and me, that he didn't want to tie me down to a man twice my age and all that shit. Still, just disappearing like that. As if I never meant anything to him."

"Are you going to see him?" The concern in Felthan's voice was genuine, and Obi-Wan's features softened a little at the gentle show of affection from his bondmate. "I guess so. I've got to get this off my chest. Might as well tell him while I've still got the chance. He must be, what, 80 now? Coming creeping back or something. Well, no chance, Qui-Gon."

The grim lines around Master Kenobi's mouth relaxed a little under Felthan's gentle kiss, and later dissipated temporarily at the sight of his ex-Padawan, face flushed with pride and residual alcohol, the very picture of lively Jedi womanhood, standing proudly in the middle of the Council chamber. The first thing she did was help herself to a strawberry from Knight Ub's bowl, then she gracefully went down on one knee and offered her long dark green braid to her Master.

Obi-Wan excused himself early from the ensuing festivities, promising he'd be back soon, and made his way down the corridors of the Temple. The address was an unfamiliar one. Then again, how was he supposed to know where Jinn lived these days? He hadn't exactly been following him, and old friends had learned over time that mentioning the old Master was not a good idea ... the quarters were almost on the opposite end of the Temple complex, and by the time Obi-Wan got there it was nearing seventh hour, and the controlled dusk of Coruscant was falling in sluggish yellow waves.

He had hardly rung the door chime when the door slid open, and he was greeted by ... nobody. It must have been on remote. Deflated and puzzled, Obi-Wan looked around the common room. Nothing reminded him of Qui-Gon. It looked almost sterile, with hardly any personal possessions lying around. A paper book on the far end of the sofa, almost carefully placed there, was the only thing that clearly spoke of Jinn's presence. But other than that ... it could have been anyone living here.

"Excuse my rudeness, Obi-Wan, but ... I feel it is a little beyond me at the moment to get up and come to you. Levitation might help, but ... I'd only end up looking even more like a ghost." A quiet toneless chuckle followed, and Obi-Wan peered into the room the voice had come from.

Oh Force.

Half-dressed in just an undertunic and propped up against the headboard of the large bed lay what was once Qui-Gon Jinn. Is Qui-Gon Jinn, he mentally corrected himself. After twenty years ... sure, he was still as tall and rangy, but his skin had gone almost translucent now, and Obi-Wan had the uncomfortable feeling he would see Qui-Gon's bones if he looked hard enough. The old man's hair was still long, maybe even longer than he remembered, a cascade of white like a frozen waterfall, matching the neat white beard half-hiding the thin pale lips. The eyes were still the same deep blue, an almost feverish shine against the pallor of the rest of his face. He didn't look ill as such, he just looked ... fading.

"It's the Living Force's way of telling you that you've reached the end of the branch, Obi-Wan ... good to see you. Really. And ... congratulations on your new rank, Master Kenobi, yes?"

Obi-Wan was still speechless. All his rage had dissipated at the sight of Qui-Gon, half pitiful, half endearing. "Thank you, Master," was all he managed, almost out of reflex, and it was only Qui-Gon's voiceless chuckle that brought him back to the reality of this little room. "You're a Master too, now, Obi-Wan ... and I am regressing more and more into childhood with each passing day. You'll soon be allowed to call me Quigs again, and then I'll make my way to the West Tower I think ... it's been a long life, Obi-Wan, and ... " a deep breath, "you've taught me more than you'd care to imagine, Master Kenobi."

Obi-Wan blinked, incredulous. Unable to believe that the old man he had once loved could make fun of him now. He must mean it. "You still ... think of me?" The question sounded more hopeful that Obi-Wan had intended to, and yet he instinctively felt it was right. Qui-Gon nodded, weakly. "I think of you an awful lot. It's not like you're easy to forget, Obi-Wan."

"The why didn't you ever bother to tell me? You know, just a call, a message to keep your promise of staying just good friends? Where is all that now? I was quite sure that you tried your best to eradicate the embarrassing memory of having been my Master, and my lover, from your mental files altogether!" Obi-Wan's voice had grown louder than he had intended, and rang out in the quiet of the bedroom.

Qui-Gon drew a deep breath, and Obi-Wan shuddered at the whistling sound it made. "At first ... at first it was anger with myself for having taken that step of breaking up with you. Then I heard from my friends that you were doing so well and I thought I'd give you a little room for yourself and not barge in claiming to be a friend. Then ... with every year, it got worse, knowing how many years I had neglected the contact. I mean, after twenty-one years one does not simply send a card or turn up on one's ex-Padawan's doorstep ... especially if he's happily married and proud Master of the scariest green-haired monster ever to come out of the crèche. You did a formidable job getting your life together, Obi-Wan, and I felt I would just be an unnecessary burden really. After all, even when you were still my Padawan, you showed me pretty comprehensively that you didn't need Mastering ... "

Obi-Wan grinned weakly. "I must have annoyed you no end, hm ... ?"

Qui-Gon's smile was almost translucent, and very sincere. "You know what it's like to have a Padawan yourself now, Obi-Wan. Who teaches you when you least want it, and most need it. And a lover. Who feeds you impossible truths in chocolate sauce. For me, Obi-Wan, you were all that, and I am glad of the time. You could not have stayed with me forever, but you were a gift while it lasted. And now," he raised himself into a sitting position with some effort, brushing stray white hairs out of his face, "now go and celebrate the passing-on."

Wordlessly, Obi-Wan embraced the thin figure on the bed, and dropped a tender kiss on the man's forehead. He knew it would be a farewell.

"Hey, Obi-W ... sorry, Master Kenobi!" Felthan extricated himself from the complicated dance position he was entwined in with Master Ru's third Padawan, a redhead half his own age, and stormed towards Obi-Wan, placing a warm affectionate kiss on the man's mouth.

"Back so soon? You look relieved ... and what's that you're wearing? Isn't it a bit ... long?" Irreverently, Knight Ub tugged at the sleeves of the dark brown robe that were slightly frayed at the edges and fell almost all the way to Obi-Wan's fingertips. Since when had Obi-Wan taken to underdressing, and oversizing at that? Then, realisation hit him. "Oh. I see. I take it that's good news?" -- "Sort of. I guess I'll have to see Pehe about this," he dragged the hem of the slightly-too-long robe along the floor in a theatrical movement, "but yes I am planning to wear it, should you wonder."

Felthan breathed a sigh of relief and embraced his lover and the musty old robe, smelling time and remembrance and the scent of life being lived. The scent of Obi-Wan.

"Good."

---The End---