Home / Fan Fiction / Star Wars Slash / Established Truths
DISCLAIMER: The following story is a non-profit, amateur effort not intended to infringe on the rights of George Lucas, Lucasfilm, Twentieth Century Fox, Industrial Light and Hocus-Pocus, Skywalker Sound, Guybrush Threepwood, Haggis MacMutton or anyone else affiliated with George Lucas and other assorted copyright holders. I make no claims to these copyrights, this story was merely the will of the Force.
by The Brat Queen
Feedback: Please. It feeds my insanity.
Archive: WWOMB, SWAL and my own page
Summary: After their first appearance before the Jedi Council, Obi-Wan tries to bolster his Master.
This is the next story in what I've decided to dub "The Mace Series" (reason being I stink at titles). Story #1 was Take Nothing For Granted which involved Mace Windu's attraction for Obi-Wan. This is story #2 and right now the plot bunnies are rabid enough that there'll probably be more.
I'm going to assume that people reading this have seen the movie and/or read the fanfic before so I'm not going to rehash the scene before this because I've got to imagine that would just bore you all. So I'll just say here that this picks up immediately after the sunset scene in TPM wherein Obi-Wan urges Qui-Gon not to defy the Council again.
Dedicated to: Those very kind readers who not only gave me feedback last time but put up with me asking "But did it WORK?"
It started with the touch of his hand.
It had been a casual thing, something not even thought of. A simple gesture which started at Obi-Wan's shoulders and trailed down to the base of his spine.
His entire chest tingled from it.
Closing his eyes, he imagined it happening again. Imagined Qui-Gon's hand, rough with saber calluses, moving down his back. Imagined Qui-Gon's fingertips rising and falling as they touched the folds of his robe.
Imagined Qui-Gon doing it again.
They stood in silence now, content with it for the moment. It was enjoyable, pleasant, comfortable. The warm traffic breezes blew through his cropped hair and lightly toyed with his Master's. They didn't speak, not having a need to. Instead they enjoyed the quiet.
Obi-Wan felt his breath catch as a sudden warmth appeared on his back. It was Qui-Gon's hand, touching him again, resting against the base of his spine.
Even through his tunics and robes, he could feel it. Even through the cloth, his skin burned like fire.
Could all Masters do this? Was this what every Padawan felt?
Obi-Wan couldn't believe it. No, surely not all of them felt this. He had seen other Padawans and their Masters and had not once seen in their eyes what he saw in his own. None of them had this feeling, this understanding.
Daring, Obi-Wan moved closer. He thrilled to feel Qui-Gon's hand move in response, resting now against his hip, the action again easy, comfortable and done without thought.
No. Surely no one else had this. Or if they did it was not known by many.
Because there were not many who knew his Master.
He couldn't help but smile as he thought of it, and even looked out of the corner of his eye to watch his Master as he stood in thoughtful repose. There were none, he knew, like his Master. None so gentle, or loyal, or considerate, or strong. None who looked to their Padawans with the trust that Qui-Gon held in him, or held their Padawans in such esteem.
Which was why Obi-Wan could not understand the Council. Why couldn't they see past his impulsiveness and thick-headedness to see how good he truly was? Why did they try to stamp out the very spirit that made Qui-Gon so remarkable?
Or, he thought with a sigh, why couldn't his Master behave just a little bit?
It didn't have to be this difficult. There wasn't that much of a difference between the Council and his Master, really. If Qui-Gon could just see that, just act with a little more patience and decorum...
But Qui-Gon hated that.
Once he'd asked about it. The two of them had been passing the time while waiting to give a report to the Council and Obi-Wan had asked why his Master couldn't just bend a tiny bit? Not in heart or soul, certainly, just in behavior.
"All they ask is for things to be done according to Code," Obi-Wan had said. "Master, if you changed the way that you spoke to them -"
"There is more to the Force than decorum and Code, young Padawan," Qui-Gon had replied, his voice gruff. "We cannot become so bogged down in formalities that we lose sight of the Force around us." He met Obi-Wan's eyes "Never forget that."
It had been one of the rare times he'd ever seen his Master angry. There were few things that could ever cause Qui-Gon to react that strongly, but loosing sight of the living Force was always one of them.
The Council couldn't see that. They felt that Qui-Gon was blinded to "the real world" and had even asked Obi-Wan a few times if the relationship was good for him, or if he wanted another Master.
Another Master? Obi-Wan shook his head. How could they even ask such a thing?
"Padawan?" Qui-Gon's voice interrupted his reverie. He looked concerned. "Is something wrong?"
Quickly Obi-Wan smiled. "No, Master. I was only thinking."
"Very serious thoughts at that," Qui-Gon said. His face creased in a familiar smile, one that he rarely showed to anyone save Obi-Wan. "I think you worry too much, young Padawan."
"I can't help it, Master," Obi-Wan said. He made an impatient gesture towards the Temple. "They don't understand you."
Qui-Gon looked bemused. "Should they?"
"Yes!" Obi-Wan turned to face him. "Master, you are the greatest Jedi I have ever known. You deserve a Council seat. You deserve better than this."
Qui-Gon laughed. The sound was soft and warm. "So much you see for me, my Padawan. Why should I have these things? I travel the path that the Force has set for me. I am content with it." He gave Obi-Wan a slightly scolding look. "And so should you be."
Obi-Wan gave and irritated sigh, turning back towards the sunset again. "I want you to have what you are worthy of, Master."
"So give me a Council seat?" Qui-Gon shook his head, pressing his hand against Obi-Wan's hip affectionately. "Do you really think that would make me happy, Obi-Wan? As often as you have had to mediate between me and them I can't imagine you'd enjoy having to do that for the rest of my natural life."
Obi-Wan tried to think over the racing of his heart at the feel of Qui-Gon's hand. "I would do it gladly, Master."
"No you wouldn't," Qui-Gon said, laughing softly again. "You would take all of two days to start rewriting all of my reports and meeting with Yoda behind my back to tell him what I really meant to say."
"Once!" Obi-Wan said. laughing as well now. "I only did that once, Master. And it's just as well that I did considering what you really said."
"I know, I know," Qui-Gon said. His hand trailed down Obi-Wan's back again. Again Obi-Wan's heart tripped a new rhythm. "I haven't the patience for life as a Council member, Obi-Wan. I'm much happier as I am. I see no need to change it."
"As you wish, Master," Obi-Wan said. He looked up at him. "But I will still always wish the best for you."
"I know, young Padawan," Qui-Gon said. He leaned down to brush the lightest of kisses across his lips. "And I for you."
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said softly, wondering, not for the first time, if his Master had any idea of the depth of his feeling for him and how far-reaching it was.