.                      Bonds of Choice #4
                  Star Wars: TPM FanFic Series
                         by HiperBunny
                        (message 6 of 7)
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Qui-Gon was sitting on the long sofa in the central area.  He was stretched
out comfortably when Obi-Wan entered and stood before him.  The Padawan
folded his hands behind his back and delivered his master a mild, attentive
look.  "How may I help you, Master?"

"You may help me by telling me what the problem is."  Qui-Gon was in no
mood to be mystical or wise.

*Uh-oh.*  "Have I done something wrong, Master?  Failed to serve you in
some way?"  His voice was even and soft, a pup showing his belly to the
alpha male and hoping for the best.

"No.  Not once in all your years with me have you ever failed in your duty
to me as your Master.  You see that I eat regularly, sleep comfortably,
have a clean and restful living space and a partner I can count on in any
battle or forum."  Qui-Gon steepled his fingers.

"It is my honor to do so, Master."

"Why do you do it?  What makes you think you are called upon to look after
me like this?"

"It is the duty of the Padawan ..."

Qui-Gon cut him off.  "Fuck Padawan.  Fuck Master.  Fuck duty and service
in all its myriad forms.  You, Obi-Wan Kenobi.  Why are you doing this?  I
don't require it of you.  You would certainly be trained even if I cleared
up my own messes.  You would gain your learning if you had parked your butt
on the sofa ten years ago and never lifted a finger to help me.  Somehow. 
I'm not sure how I would have done it, but I am a stubborn man.  If I set
out to teach a log how to duel, I'm sure it would be able to defend itself
when I was done.

"You, however.  You act like I hate you.  Like I've beaten you down and
hurt you.  Duty this and honor that.  Don't you want to be my apprentice,
Obi-Wan?"  Qui-Gon delivered these words with increasing heat. 

Obi-Wan stared at the floor.  *I will not cry.  I will not cry.  I don't
deserve any better than to be sent away.  I will not cry now that I've
finally failed.*

//Failed what, Koateleu?//

*SHIT SHIT SHIT!*  Obi-Wan slammed his mental shields closed, cutting off
even that deep and abiding connection to his master's thoughts.

Qui-Gon cleared his throat.  "Failed what, Obi-Wan?"

"Well, you, of course.  I don't really worry about failing anything else. 
I've finally become more trouble than help.  More bad than good.  I'm sorry
I let this happen, Master.  Please don't send me away yet.  I would ..."
Obi-Wan stopped to breathe and steady his voice.  *No crying.*  "I will
serve you perfectly if I get the chance, Master."

Qui-Gon was off the couch and had Obi-Wan by the braid, twisting it around
his fist as he dragged Obi-Wan to the bathroom.  He turned his apprentice
so that they were both facing the mirror.  Obi-Wan suffered all in silence.

"What do you see, Padawan?"

Obi-Wan collected his wits and looked.  "Your hair is a little frizzy this
morning.  You didn't get much sleep; your eyes look tired.  Ow."

Qui-Gon raised his hand to smack Obi-Wan's arm again if needed.  "What do
you see?"

Another deep breath.  Again he focused on the image reflected back at him. 
*I hate these tests.*  "You look very angry, as if I'd killed your pet. 
Like I did something so bad that you can't forgive me."

"Damn you!  That is my Padawan there!  At least have the decency to
acknowledge him in my presence!"  Qui-Gon had Obi-Wan by the chin now,
turning it so the light fell on a faint line near the temple.  "See that
scar?  He got that saving my life.  As I recall, this particular one came
from carrying my unconscious body to safety through the streets of Alderass
City when a rogue faction had chosen me as their scapegoat.  He almost lost
his ear that time.  There are probably dozens of scars with similar stories
all over his body.  This life has been lain on the altar of sacrifice every
day for ten years to serve and protect me.  Why?  I know you want to be a
Jedi Knight, but there hasn't been a Padawan like you since ... there might
not have been one like you before."

Obi-Wan was confused, found he could not answer.

"I thought, I HOPED some of it might be that you cared for me, that you saw
me as a person you could cherish, be with, enjoy on some level.  Why do you
offer yourself to me so willingly?  What is going on here?"  Qui-Gon let go
of Obi-Wan.  "Well?"

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to say something, anything.  A wild, high laugh
escaped him.  He clapped his hand over his mouth.  It didn't help. 
Laughter bubbled up out of him, crippling him.  He sank to his knees. 
Still his breath hitched, cramping his muscles.  He curled up into a ball
on the floor, laughing.  *I will not cry.  I will not cry.  I may die of
hysterics, but by all the skies in the galaxy, I will not Not NOT cry.*

He couldn't have been more wrong.  The tears were spilling out, hot and
stupid.  His chest was empty and aching.  Sobs wrenched out of him.  Then
he was laughing again.  He managed to look up at Qui-Gon.  "Would you
believe, I want you to like me?"  Obi-Wan went off on another gale of
laughter.

"Tell me you're kidding." Qui-Gon sounded less than amused.

"Nope.  I wanted you to remember me after I was gone.  You mean so much to
me.  You're the only person I could trust, so I didn't want to lean on you
too much.  I still don't.  I don't want to use up whatever space I've
earned with you, Master."

"You really believe that drivel you spout about earning your keep, being of
use so I don't hate you.  You silly, sweet, moron."  Qui-Gon smiled.  "Why
do you think I train you?"

"You have to.  I'm your apprentice."

"Oh and you don't think I could get out of having an apprentice?  Did it
completely slip your mind that I chose you?  That I asked to be able to
train you?  There was no small amount of squabbling when your name came up
for apprenticeship."  Qui-Gon handed Obi-Wan a hand towel to dry off on.

This small kindness completely undid Obi-Wan.  He sobbed into the washcloth
for long minutes, the sound echoing on the tiles.  The cloth was soaked
before he could answer.  "That's not what I heard.  I heard you didn't want
an apprentice at all.  Least of all me, I'm sure."

"No, Kenobi.  I wanted no apprentice except you.  They could find no other
to equal your potential.  You've done yourself a great disservice,
believing I taught you only because I had to."

Obi-Wan shook his head.  "I don't believe that, really.  I just can't think
of any other reason you'd allow me to be near you.  Or to bed you."

"This is not about sex, Padawan," Qui-Gon's voice was thick and dark.

"I'm sorry, Master.  Please, I'm sorry.  Just forget I said that, okay?" 
Obi-Wan was babbling, panicked.  *Oh please shut your MOUTH, Kenobi!*  He
clenched his jaws together and let the tears flow.  He lay there, limp and
trembling.  He felt Qui-Gon kneel down beside him.

"Obi-Wan, please.  I want to help you, I must help you.  I can't bear to
see you this way."

"I'll go.  I'll just go in the other room, we'll close the door and tonight
none of this will have ever happened."  Obi-Wan pushed up off the floor on
to his knees and tried to stand.

Qui-Gon was having none of it.  "Be still."

Obi-Wan froze.  Then strong arms came around him and pulled him close.  He
lay his head down on Qui-Gon's shoulder and tried to slow the sobbing. 
"It's not true, you know.  I never wanted to be a Jedi Knight."

"What?  There was nothing to indicate …"

"Oh, I guess I said that wrong.  I WANTED to be a Jedi, but I was pretty
sure I wouldn't be allowed to be trained.  Master Torlamin always told me
how close I was to being sent out of the Temple, that she was probably the
only person who would ever take me as a Padawan.  She pushed me so hard!  I
thanked her for it later, but, well, at the time I figured I'd end up in
the AgriCorps or on some little remote world making things grow.  I liked
the gardens when I was little.  I was good at them."  Obi-Wan had regained
some control of his breathing as he spoke.

"And then what happened?" 

"Well, I had other teachers, then the prelims started up.  I just went
through them, you know, doing my best, trying not to fail too badly.  I
figured it might help me to get a place with the Healers or something. 
Then they sent me to the Council to receive my assignment and ..."

"And I was standing there arguing a blue streak with them."

"You looked so angry, but all I could think was 'That's Master Jinn.  Maybe
they've asked him to fix me.'  I was so grateful that I might be allowed to
try, I swore I'd be everything you ever needed or wanted in a Padawan. 
I've really tried, Master, every day of my life since you took me as your
Padawan I've tried to live up to it."

"Live up to what?"

"Listen to how this sounds.  'Padawan Kenobi.  Apprentice to Master Qui-Gon
Jinn'.  I was supposed to be Obi-Wan the Farmer or Miner or something. 
I've tried to live up to what you, the best Jedi Master in the Temple, must
expect from his student.  I know I'm nowhere close.  I've stopped trying to
be the best at anything.  I just don't want you to forget me."

Qui-Gon pushed Obi-Wan back and looked him in the eye.  "Best Master in the
Temple?"

"Okay, not according to the Rate and Rank.  I'd be off a couple on that. 
But in my humble opinion?  Yes.  That would be you.  Who else could have
kept me in the good favor of the Order all these years?"  Obi-Wan pushed up
off his master.  "Look, I need to change clothes.  Can we continue this in
a bit?"  Obi-Wan picked himself up off the floor and made his way into his
new room.

*******************

Qui-Gon sat where he was, feeling the body heat fade, the tears begin to
dry from his nightshirt.  *I'm not a monster, Obi-Wan.  I'm really not.  I
wish I was free to show you all there is within my heart.*

A movement in the next room caught Qui-Gon's eye.  Obi-Wan had wasted no
time getting out of his day-old robes and into a set of soft pj's.  The
rich royal blue did something absolutely unspeakable to his eyes,
transforming them from mere organs of visual input to something
otherworldly and sensual in the extreme.  Qui-Gon smiled.  *He has no idea
how I see him.*

Qui-Gon thought back to the day Obi-Wan had been given to him as his new
Padawan.  He had looked so bright and earnest, so willing to please, so
different from any Padawan Qui-Gon had taught before.  Different, but this
time in a good way.

*I was so determined to give him all he deserved in an education.  Why did
I never think to give him affection, love, comradeship?  Why did I not
invite him into my home?  He's the one who makes it a home to me, anyway. 
He belonged here from the beginning.  Jinn, you are an idiot.*

In reality, he had thought to do all of those things.  Had always intended
and tried to be a caring, thoughtful Master, but things got in the way. 
Never enough time to do the things that must be done, much less the things
he wanted to do.  Clearly, the care of Obi-Wan must now fall into the
former category rather than the latter.  Clearly so, come hell or high
water.

*Assignments, studies, missions, duty, sleep, all the things that make life
roll by all to fast.  One day you wake up and you're in love with your
Padawan.  One day you wake up and he's old enough to deal with all the
things you knew were coming, planned for, knew would have to be dealt with
because of mistakes that were made early on and out of your control.  And
now you find out, day late, credit short, that the damage is just as bad as
you thought it would be.  Now, old man, are you ready to do right by him,
do right by your Obi-Wan and see him through this?  He needs your help,
needs you to be there while he heals from wounds neither he nor you could
defend against.  Hell, you couldn't prevent some of the hurts because you
caused them yourself!*

"Master, what would you like for breakfast?" Obi-Wan called.

"Well, what do you like for breakfast, Obi-Wan?"

"Um, I can make you whatever you want, Master."  There was a clatter
Obi-Wan sat some dishes down on the table.  He came over and put his head
in at the door.

"Answer the question."

"Do you mean, what do I like best?  Uh, fresh selthuri melon and sweet
rolls.  Hot tea with sugar and milk.  Why?"

"I don't think I've ever had selthuri melon.  Why is that?  We've had
breakfast together at least a thousand times.  We usually have the same
thing.  Why don't I know what you like for breakfast?"  Qui-Gon was
genuinely upset by this gap in his knowledge.

"What do you want me to like, Master?"

"Would you please STOP that?"  Qui-Gon rubbed at his eyes, smearing
dampness onto his sleeve.  *How could I have let him go on thinking he
NEEDED to be this way?*

"Yes, Master."  Obi-Wan folded his hands behind his back and studied the
floor before his feet.

Qui-Gon put his head down on his upraised knees, tried to devise an answer
to his question.  *Am I able?  Did Kourt do right by choosing me to care
for and educate this precious jewel of a human being?*

A fresh set of silent tears soaked into his sleeves as he examined himself,
his motivations, his abilities.  *Yes,* he decided.  *I can do this.  I
will do this.  I will do it well and good, no matter what it does to me.  I
will give him what he needs.  What is more, I swear by every sky I could
name that I will give him what he deserves.*

"Master, may I be excused to see about breakfast?" Obi-Wan's question broke
Qui-Gon's train of thought.

Qui-Gon's head snapped up.  "Have you just been standing there?  Don't
answer that.  Yes.  Of course.  Make whatever you like."