Category: Pre-slash, Angst, a First Time of
sorts……
Series: The first in a series of "Intervals" - Qui-Gon POV's as
a contrast to the Obi "Interludes" series. This is the mirror
piece to Interludes - Tonight. Blame Susan - she put it in my
head *g*
Archival: Master & Apprentice and Fabulae are more than
welcome - all others just ask :-)
Warnings: There's an under-aged Obi in this, but Quigee isn't
being *too* lecherous *g*
Feedback: Nice but not compulsory *g*.
Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas, if you could see the amount of Star Wars
merchandise in my bedroom, you would realise that I have
absolutely no money for you to sue out of me. Perhaps you'd be
interested in a slightly used copy of "I Am A Jedi" instead???
I really hate those moments of blinding enlightenment. Those
times when suddenly everything that you thought to be the truth
is dashed into the smallest of pieces while you watch in
helpless astonishment. There is nothing in this universe that
can prepare you for the displacement brought about by such a
moment of undisguised truth. It is in the midst of such a
moment that your stomach churns from the dizzy mix of
revelation and devastation. I am yet to experience a moment of
enlightenment that has not brought with its once hidden
knowledge the only too familiar jagged teeth of pain.
I had one of those moments this evening.
I see the glances my padawan earns from those who surround me.
I may be but an old man compared to the bright light of his
glowing youth, but I am not yet blinded by my years. I have
watched the coltish boy of only a few years ago grow into the
stunning fifteen-year-old that everyone wants to be near. I
used to feel a vicarious pride in their admiration of the young
man I hold dearer to me than anyone - or anything - else. I was
glad that Obi-Wan's way in life would be made easy by all those
who craved to be loved by him. Even the lot of a jedi is made
easier if you are fortunate enough to be in possession of a
face and a presence that can turn even the most antagonistic
mind. And my padawan does not so much posses those attributes
as he does define them.
I never considered the possibility that one day it will be
those very same traits that conspire to take the light from my
life.
Tonight, when I saw the well-known faces watching him, an
emptiness began to grow inside me. I dismissed it as nothing
but the jealous fears of one whose time in the sunlight is
nearing its close. The boy who cast away the dark shadows of my
past is no more. Tonight when I watched both padawans' and
masters' eyes alike following his path around the room, I
realised that it was now a man whom they were seeing. His time
of knighthood may still lie years ahead of us, but no more will
he be the boy who sought the comfort of my arms when a storm
almost deafened us, or when his sleep was clouded with visions
of darkness.
I will miss comforting him. It is a role I have always held
dear.
Tonight I saw him talking to one of the younger knights. His
eyes smiled as he spoke and I ached to know of what they
talked. The knight placed a hand on my padawans shoulder that
was not one of guidance, but rather of unspoken offers. Visions
of what I could do to that hand played in front of my eyes as I
forced myself to turn away. He is not my possession to be told
with whom to speak. I have no right to watch his social
interactions with the eye of a master. I am his master through
consent, not through slavery. It is my role to bestow
knowledge, not to curb the inevitable tentative movement away
from my side.
I do not possess him.
It was as I engaged in a mindless exchange of conversational
niceties with a young, female padawan tonight that my defining
moment of enlightenment chose to rip apart everything that I
knew to be the truth. She made some idle comment about the
popularity of my padawan. It was nothing surprising, nothing I
hadn't already contemplated a million times over. But somehow,
tonight her comment brought only bitter jealousy to the tongue
that so often in past days spoke of pride. Tonight I would not
hear of Obi-Wan's attractiveness. Why should she speak to me of
something I already know to be true? Why should she
torment me with the very reality that sends needles of
fear into my heart? It was only as I opened my mouth to gush
some undoubtedly un-jedi-like comment that reality decided to
land heavily over me. And it was only as I caught the eye of my
padawan across the room that I realised that the depth of the
world's attraction to the young man smiling shyly at me could
never rival my own.
And at that moment I realised that I want, more than anything,
to possess him.
I return home late, mindful of being quiet, lest my padawan
already lies asleep in the adjacent room. My mind, however,
could never be quietened as easily as my movements. The
realisation that I need Obi-Wan as so much more than just my
student throbs within my head. I cannot comprehend these
thoughts. Are they just the lecherous fantasies of an ageing
master? Or is there something more to this desire? There is
something deep within me that whispers to me that there is.
"Master?"
That soothingly familiar voice drifts from Obi-Wan's room. I
hope that I haven't woken him, although there is no hint of
sleep in his tone.
"It is just me, padawan."
Oh how I ache to utter so much more, but for tonight five words
will have to suffice. When I retire to my own bed I will have
all the hours of the night to contemplate what might have been
if I had dared to say more. For the moment, however, the
reality is too terrifying to face.
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