The Reason Is You

by Padawan_Taisha

Title-The Reason Is You
Author-Padawan_Taisha (meganh67@earthlink.net)
Archive-Live Journal, J/A, anywhere that'll have it
Category-Qui/Obi, Hurt/Comfort, Angst
Rating-PG
Warnings-Homophobia, Stream-of-consciousness writing style
Spoilers-A little for Ep. 3
Summary-Obi-Wan must make a heart-wrenching decision between his love for his Master and his duty to the new Jedi Order
Feedback-is like having Obi-Wan sitting in my lap. Write me! Please!
Disclaimer-Sometimes I get the urge to steal things, OK?? Five-finger Jedi Discount-thanks, George. "The Reason" is property of Hoobastank

"And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know

I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
And the reason is you

I've found a reason to show
A side of me you didn't know
A reason for all that I do
And the reason is you"

"Have some training for you, I do."

Yes, that was how it had started; that phrase, or some variation of it. I didn't remember the exact wording, true, but I excused myself for one lapse in concentration for all my years of service to the galaxy. Hell, I'm not exactly young.

"Training?" What training, and why now, when the Jedi are so inexplicably and completely demolished? What could training possibly do now, Master Yoda? But out of respect for the wizened Master sitting in front of me, I quietly listened as Yoda gave me one of the biggest shocks of my life: a Jedi had re-discovered the path to immortality. A Jedi had re-discovered the path to immortality, and he could commune from the ethers to this world, and he would teach this long-forgotten skill to others, and his name…his name was Qui-Gon Jinn.

And just like that, I felt as though I had been punched in the stomach. I half feared that all of my hard-won years of Jedi serenity would flee, but to my surprise, my voice was steady when I answered and somewhere in the back of my head I felt a flash of pride in myself. "Qui-Gon?" I softly intoned with polite incredulity. Yoda nodded.

"Teach you how to contact him, I will."

And that is where it had started, what had lead up to this moment, the moment in which I would so cruelly damn myself to the slavery of a physical body for the rest of eternity. Never again was I to see the others, my friends, mentors, fellow Jedi, the Jedi of my time. Never was I to become one with the Force. And, most biting of all, never was I to become one with Qui-Gon, to know the sweet bliss of finally indulging in a love forbidden during life yet so powerfully overwhelming that we knew what we wanted to share with each other from the time I was fifteen. Sith, I don't to this day know how we kept our hands off each other, so in love were we. But somehow we managed, never touching each other in desire or lust; contented with the knowledge that, Force providing, we would someday retire together, retire in each others arms. Yes, our bodies might have been too spent at that time to indulge in physical love, but we both agreed that we would do what was necessary, and not worry about physical expression. Our love was strong enough to be physical without becoming sexual, anyway. And we would be together?

Yet now I realized, looking into Luke and Leias' eyes as they pleaded with me to take a permanent, eternal solid form, as they begged me to stay and help save their unstable and newly-reformed Jedi Temple...that my life was forever about service, and that my morals had been set in stone years ago by a Code I had no say in, that was written millions of years before my birth, and that I had been raised without choice to follow that Code regardless of where it lead me and that this was the choice I had, the choice that was no choice at all. I could leave those that need me. I could surrender myself to eternal peace in comfort, give my life-force over to the galaxy as those before me had done; go, seek out the Force signature that was uniquely Qui-Gon's, and twine with it; or I could stay, take on a solid body, and live, eternally young, eternally in the service of the Jedi order. And never see my beloved again. Ever.

But ours is a life of service. A life without remorse. Without regret. Without reward. I laugh. It keeps me from sobbing.

Secretly I have to marvel at the insidious cruelty of fate. It sure knows how to throw this galaxy for a turn. For instance, Qui-Gon Jinn, discovering the path. Of all the millions of Jedi that had gone before him, Qui-Gon had been the one to reawaken this ability. But it was just, so…unlike him.

True, I know that Qui-Gon was, without a doubt, one of the greatest Masters our Order has ever seen. And true, he had always been unorthodox and prone to maverick behavior. And, yes, he always did love to study Jedi theory, especially that of the past. I can recall night after night of watching him read in bed...just watching. I know the man, and I have never known Qui-Gon to put any of that theory into practice. He just wasn't that kind of man. His skills lay in the basic necessities of successful Jedi practice, such as swordsmanship, statesmanship, diplomacy and negotiation. And everyone acknowledged that his skill level in those many chosen abilities surpassed that of men who had dedicated their entire lives to just one aspect or another. Qui-Gon was just a naturally consummate Jedi, in that aspect. But as for trying and exploring new techniques, like some kind of scientist…well, that sounded more like something I would do. Nevertheless…

I remember the first time I came back home from a discussion with Lars Owen regarding the young Luke Skywalker, and upon entering my hand-crafted abode, I had found Qui-Gon sitting in front of my Chimeplayer, tapping out a composition that I myself had written. I can smile now, even in the face of my cruel fate, thinking back to my days as Qui-Gon's precious Padawan as he taught me to play one musical instrument after another, until to this day, I could pick up any unfamiliar instrument and learn to play it in less than half an hour. But the Chimeplayer was our shared favorite. Somewhat like a piano, it required a skilled musician to play it, and could reduce the most stoic of men to tears. Like me, as I walked in and gazed down in surprise at the specter of my old Master, plucking out a tune as though straight from my heart.

My breath caught at seeing the man again. He looked just as amazing, as commanding, as…everything…as I remembered. There was little that had changed about him since he died, unless you counted the slightly translucent quality his body held. I marveled at his regal composure, at his grace, his sheer beauty.

With a gentle touch of his fingers, he brought the piece to a close, and turned to smile up at me.

"Obi-Wan. You've certainly changed." And in that moment, for the first time in my life, I was aware of my comeliness, my age. I felt old and undesirable as I gazed into his endless blue eyes and fought a sob of shame that threatened to tear forth from my throat. Being in his presence was almost unbearable. That gentle smile, those eyes...how could he even look at me, knowing how badly I had failed him, and failed his hopes of Anakin? I stood, remembering Anakin and my last moments together. How that time, the sobbing did burst forth from me, and I screamed "You were supposed to be the chosen one! You were supposed to bring balance to the force, not …"

No! This is not the time to think about that, not with his eyes on me now. I bite my lip before speaking, feeling like an awkward child under his determined gaze.

"Hi."

For a moment, he seemed to wilt, as if from disappointment, and in that moment, I realized that I'd let him down once again. But then the moment passed and he looked up at me and I realized that maybe I should show more appreciation towards him but he sighs and speaks, and I am lost in the depth of his words.

"Are you ready to leave everything you thought you knew behind?"

Looking back on those years in my hovel with Qui-Gon Jinn, I suppose I could have done a lot of things differently. Like saying "I love you," or "I need you," or "I'll always need you and love you and won't you please share my bed and my heart forever because, you know, you're almost solid and I'm not a Jedi any longer, my former Padawan saw fit to that…" but I never said any of that.

I suppose I was bound by an oath that no longer mattered and by a way of life that no longer existed and mostly by fear-horrible, paralyzing fear, fear of what he would think of me if I did forsake my Jedi ways to indulge in my selfish passions. What he would think of me every time he reflected on the ways I had failed him with his treasured and coveted would-have-been Apprentice, Anakin. Most foolish and un-Jedi worthy of my fears was the deep corroding terror of what he would think of my aged, wasted body and my darkened soul lying beside him. Secretly I half-feared that he had found someone else waiting for him in the after-life…perhaps a former Apprentice, or a crèche mate he thought of fondly during the lonely periods of his life?

And so I suppose he never knew, did he, about my feelings for him? Or worse, he did, (for I was never adapt at hiding anything from him) and he simply didn't care. That was the hardest thought to bear.

The hardest thought to bear…as hard to bear as the silence and tension that grew between us during the four years he spent preparing me for my…death. Although our lives had a basic semblance of order that resembled (mocked) the years we trained together, I could feel the relief rolling off his spectral form in waves as he finally said the words I'd been dreading for the entirely of our time together.

"Well, I think you're finally ready to progress by yourself."

And he stroked my cheek, once, and faded, and that was the last I saw of him.

I was left to sob into my pillow every night (and most mornings, as well) and let my grief and shame and loss eat at me like so many corroding acids. I stopped living, for after having been so alive in his company during that time, the rest of my existence seemed to pale in comparison. I ate, I slept, I meditated, because that was what my body and mind required to be whole. But my soul-my soul was never whole. Would never be whole again.

Gods, it hurt. Oh Force.

I found myself wishing, no, longing for death to sweep me up into its tender embrace. Deliver its kiss…but I digress. We were speaking of Luke, and Leia, and of my decision. The one that would leave me cut off from love. Abandoned. Alone.

Not alone. No Jedi is ever alone in the Force. Or so they say. But alone in love? Certainly that. Never to be fully contented.

Never.

Luke shifts uncomfortably under my gaze. He and Leia stand there, awaiting my decision. I cannot breathe. I cannot move. If I do, I am certain I will shatter like glass, and I doubt if anyone will be able to put me back together again.

Qui-Gon...

I wish he was here right now. I desperately need him. With a decision as scary and uncertain as this, I'd liker to know someone was watching over me. But, of course, he isn't here by my side. He has most likely moved on, and for good reason. No one already dead and in peace in the ether-world of the Force would want to stay permanently only to see star systems fail, civilizations fall, and finally, the entire universe drift apart into nothingness. I certainly don't want to see the end of time. But there is too much to do. The Jedi must survive. They are needed.

But Qui-Gon...

That one word is enough to shake me out of my paralysis and I double over, gasping. "I'll never see him again..."

"Who?" Luke and Leia give me a questioning look. Of course. They aren't aware of my past, of my...tastes. To them, I am flawless. To them, I have no human blemishes, or faults, of skeletons in the closet. Somewhere through my pain, my sick humor chuckles at the thought of Luke discovering his old mentor is guilty of one of the greatest sins one can commit under the rule of the Empire.

He doesn't know I'm gay.

And suddenly, I have a way out.

"Who?" Luke asks again.

"My lover," I answer, voice quivering. "His name was Qui-Gon Jinn."

"He's your WHAT?!?"

The look on Luke's face is one of pure horror. I grin to myself. This just might work.

"Qui-Gon Jinn. The man that loved me, trained me, taught me all I knew. The man I once thought to spend the rest of my life with. He was murdered by a Sith Lord, and-"

At this he cuts me off. "I know who Qui-Gon Jinn is," Luke snarls, "Everyone does. Son of the King of Iego, General of the Outer Rim Wars, Head Negotiator of the Kri-Plon Fu Treaty. But your lover? Somehow, I doubt that. Check the records. I bet there's no mention of you, Ben. Qui-Gon Jinn was a real man. Like I thought you were, once, too." He turns in disgust.

How easily I am thrown aside. How intolerant he can be. How…how dare he!

I can still feel Leia's gaze on me, and I squeeze my eyes shut against agonizing tears. Anger wells up in me. "Have I ever lied to you?"

At this, Luke begins to walk away. Part of me hates the fact that I have caused such embarrassment and conflict just to free myself of doing what is right. That part of me screams at the fact that I have just dethroned both myself and my lover in Luke's eyes.

The other part of me screams, too. Out loud. "Then I guess you won't be needing me!"

At this, Leia cuffs Luke on the back of the head. "Damned nerfhearder!" She turns back to be. "Ignore him, Ben. We do need you. Please." She begs me with her eyes. "You ARE our only hope?"

Gods. Gods above and Force below. Curse me now, and be done with it.

"Fine."

With my life force, I pull molecules to me, picking out the elements I need, disposing the rest. The air around me swirls and crackles. In a matter of minutes, I stand, a solid figure. I know in my mind's eye what the others see, because both the twins gasp. I chuckle. I always had a hard time envisioning Qui-Gon as a young man, too, until I saw it for my eyes. I almost didn't believe him when he showed me a holovid of him as a teen. "Master," I had giggled, "You look like…a rent boy!"

And then, of course, he had laughed, that rich, melodious laugh, and I…Oh, Force. Now I really am all alone. I begin to cry, but as the tears rush down my face, I feel someone reach out through the force and brush them away. No mistaking that signature.

How could you ever think that? How could you really believe I would leave you, my Padawan? More importantly, why did you believe I would not seek to join you? Or?

My eyed fly open, and focus on the group of would-be Jedi standing behind Luke. One steps out of the crowd. He's taller than the rest, more regal. He moves with all the experience of one of the greatest Masters our Order has ever seen. The youth walks towards me, a smile of rose against ivory painted across his face. His dirty blond hair that I know eventually faded to brown, and then later grey, shimmers in the Cloud City sun. Force! I had seen the picture! How did I miss this before?

"Or why did you believe that I had not joined you already?" he whispers. "That I wouldn't want to? That I wouldn't want you? That I haven't found you beautiful every moment of my life since the first time I laid eyes on you? Honestly," he chuckles, eyes twinkling with love, "I thought I trained you better than that. No insight whatsoever."

And with a smug glance back at Luke, his strong arms pull me into his embrace, and warm lips meet mine. Distantly, I can hear gasps of disapproval. Deal with it, I think, as I push my tongue into his mouth. Gods, I've waited a lifetime for this taste.

And suddenly, eternity seems like no time at all.

"And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know

I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
And the reason is you

I've found a reason to show
A side of me you didn't know
A reason for all that I do
And the reason is you."