OPTIONS
by ardavenport
- - - Part 11
"The mark will be completely gone by tomorrow," the white droid told Mayb, removing the last bacta patch from her bruises. This one from her elbow. The smudge of darker color left behind made her immediately want to wash it off, but she would have to wait for it to finish healing.
After the Grand Muzat's med droid collected its tools and excused itself Mayb was able to turn her chair back to the mirror to see how the hotel grooming droid was doing with her hair. She smiled at the results. Her golden hair looked nearly perfect again.
"I believe all the damaged strands have been repaired or trimmed and it has been properly moisturized. I will begin styling it now," the droid announced, ZZ8 or ZT9 or something like that.
"Of course," Mayb agreed and the droid began gathering up tresses.
Mak was taking her out to a nightclub later that night. Thankfully she had a good enough evening outfit with her. But she would need to go shopping tomorrow.
"Are you done with the droid Mayb?" Mak asked, coming out of the fresher. "I think I need a trim before dinner." He patted his neat mustache.
"It's just doing my hair. It'll be done in a little while."
Mak grunted and went to the wardrobe for a fresh suit.
Unfortunately they were having dinner with Mak's lawyer cousin. Mak said they couldn't avoid it since Zi-Zom was close friends with his Mum. He would never hear the end of it if they did not placate her. And they were going to meet Mak's Mum and Da tomorrow. They would have to arrange for a suitable meeting with her parents and sis and step-brother and cousin. The meeting with he family would have to wait for them to arrange the trip off world.
Family. Now that's the proper way to open a marriage negotiation. I don't know what I could have been thinking with Qui-Gon.
She shuddered, now embarrassed by her appalling lack of judgement. Certainly other girls fantasized about older men, but she had taken it too far. She supposed it was just part of the bad judgement of youth, but Mayb really had expected that she was well past the impetuous faze of her life. The droid has finished gathering up all her hair and was winding the glittering wire around it to serve as the base for her evening headdress.
"I don't think the contract penalties are enough for all that happened. I want to sue," she said while she applied a little cream to her cheeks, nice and smooth.
"Can't."
Mayb scrunched up her face in displeasure and then hastily smoothed her features, but Mak was busy with the closures on his over-tunic. He was not looking.
"I wanted to sue," he said, standing and adjusting his collar, "the minute I heard who took your option, but Zi-Zom said you can't sue a Jedi. The courts won't take it. They have immunity. To everything apparently. And Zi-Zon is a hissing screech when it comes to getting her way with the law. Loves sinking her fangs into a tough case. If she says it can't be done, then it can't be done."
He came over to the dressing table and stood behind her, an admiring look on his face in the reflection, while the silver and white hotel droid, the blue and purple seal of the Grand Muzat large on its body, settled the headdress on her head and began attaching it.
"We're getting along so well. I wonder if this marriage contract thing is really necessary?" he speculated.
Mayb made a pouty face. "Well, I suppose we could talk about that with your Mum and Da tomorrow," she speculated. He grimaced and Mayb pretended to not notice how much her comment might sting. Mak had told her about his. . . .earlier troubled matches, but Mayb thought that he was only telling her because his family had pressured him into it. Mak Edoma was not perfect; Mayb could see that. He was hopelessly vain for one thing. But after Qui-Gon. . . .
. . . .Mayb thought that Mak Edoma had excellent possibilities.
"What were you doing with those three from the school?" she asked as she observed the droid's work, weaving her hair into the headpiece. She only felt slight tugs on her head. It had good programming; not once had it even pulled out single a hair.
"They came to me. A little frantic. A little crazy. Going on about how you were in danger. I was going to throw them out, but then I got the call from Zi-Zom, so I brought them with me to sort it out."
Mayb shrugged, already having lost interest in her former schoolmates.
"Hmm." Mak looked down at the dressing table. He leaned over Mayb to pick up the turquoise silveroid ring that Qui-Gon had given her. She had not had time to get rid of it.
"That's nice. Very nice," Mak said approvingly. "It looks local."
"Oh, I. . . .picked it up earlier today." Mayb admitted casually.
Mak held it up to her face. "Matches your eyes. Perfect."
It wasn't clear whether his last comment was about the ring. Mayb liked that; her lips curled in a smile. She held up her hand and he put the ring on her middle finger.
"Yes. It is," she agreed.
=== oO%*%Oo ==%%%== oO%*%Oo ===
The sun was just coming up. The fierce orange light of the local star, filtered through the atmosphere, peeked out of the haze in the distance over the plain between distant plateaus. Almost immediately the sliver of light became too bright to look at as it grew larger and Qui-Gon closed his eyes. He felt the faint, incremental warming of his skin, chilled in the crisp morning air.
Next to him on the viewing platform above the treetops of the Jolumtri Plateau Gardens, Obi-Wan inhaled deeply. His Padawan had been patient and Qui-Gon was pleased. They had not spoken alone of Mayb and her offer of sex with him yet. The Jedi Master felt no anticipation, no tension in the young man next to him. Qui-Gon smiled; Obi-Wan was learning.
After leaving Mimi's Lounge, they had settled the costs of the damage to the Grand Muzat, and to the manager's relief they had removed themselves to another (and less grand) hostel near the spaceport. Yudi and Devano left the planet that evening, however Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan would remain either until Sedda Hed and her companions contacted them, or until the contact com expired in three days. Their only other remaining task on that world was to fulfil an appointment that afternoon at Zi-Zom Edoma's office so Qui-Gon could sign over his rights to the marriage option. Mayb had already sent a message, through her lawyer, that she would not be present and that she expected to never meet them again in her lifetime. They all found this very satisfactory.
Feeling full sunlight on his face, Qui-Gon opened his eyes and had to avert them from the fiery disk, risen just above the horizon.
"You are concerned about your reaction to Mayb's advance yesterday," Qui-Gon stated without preamble. He looked down below their platform at the gardens still in shadow.
"Yes Master."
In his side vision, Qui-Gon saw Obi-Wan lower his head, his shoulders slumping. He turned, and they both slid around to face each other, sitting on the smooth decking of the platform.
"Do you believe that it was the Force that guided you to push Mayb away?" Qui-Gon asked.
"Yes." Obi-Wan nodded, his pale gray-blue eyes earnest in the golden light from the sunrise. Then he pressed his lips together and lowered his eyes. "But I panicked."
"How?"
"I pushed her away, with the Force." Obi-Wan held his hand up, his palm spread toward Qui-Gon. "But when I tried to close the door." He swept his hand to the side. "Nothing happened. I had to use the manual control to lock it. To lock her in. Away from me." He lowered his eyes.
"Oh."
There was no surer sign of internal discord than when a Jedi tried to access the Force and didn't. Qui-Gon sighed. Something like that had not happened to him in many years. It often happened to younglings, still growing and easily distracted. But it was uncommon for a Padawan Obi-Wan's age.
"I was focused on my failure to follow your advice to suppress my desire for Mayb." Obi-Wan looked up, his expression shamed. "I thought I had succeeded, but when Mayb approached me I. . . .felt like I had no control at all."
Qui-Gon sighed again and glanced up at the brightening morning sky above. There were no clouds.
"Did you enjoy it?"
Obi-Wan stared back in surprise.
"When Mayb approached you, did you enjoy it?" Qui-Gon repeated, smiling. "I assume there was some significant physical contact."
"Yes there was," he answered unhappily. "And, yes, very much. I enjoyed it."
"Yet you were still worried about failing my guidance, even then?"
Obi-Wan nodded. "Yes. You did tell me to follow my feelings, but I did not think you meant for me to lose myself in them. And I was shocked by how badly I had deceived myself that I was in control of it."
Qui-Gon sadly shook his head.
"Obi-Wan, I only told you to suppress your desire for Mayb to give you something to do, since were so determined to think your way out of it. You do know now that you cannot think your way out of this?"
His apprentice nodded.
"Do you still harbor a desire for Mayb."
His apprentice shook his head.
"No. I believe that energy is. . . spent." Obi-Wan sighed now. "And I still do not know why ever had it."
"Do you wish to know why?"
"There is no why Master," Obi-Wan answered with a sad smile. "It simply is. Or was." Obi-Wan took a deep breath. "Or will be."
Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows at this unexpected wisdom, but before he could ask for more, Obi-Wan asked him something.
"Was it this difficult for you, Qui-Gon? When you were my age?"
"No." He folded his arms before him. "For events like these, I never even thought to ask myself the questions you put to yourself. I would simply act."
"You still do," Obi-Wan said with a sly grin. Qui-Gon did not care for being interrupted, but the statement was undeniably true, and their whole mission with Mayb was one result.
"Sometimes there would be consequences, sometimes not," Qui-Gon went on. "If there is one thing I have tried to teach you, Obi-Wan, it is to focus on the moment. If you get tangled up in the distractions of the possibilities of what might have or have not happened then you lose your focus. But there are moments when losing focus is the moment itself. You recognized that, and retreated from it."
"Is that bad?"
"No," Qui-Gon reassured him. "You said that you had deceived yourself into believing that you could control your moment of desire. But you recognized it immediately. That is who you are, Obi-Wan.
"However, I," he continued, loosening his arms and then lowering his hands to rest them on his knees, "deceived myself for years thinking that the Force stayed with me during pleasure and passion. There were no attachments; they would be gone as soon as they were spent. But there was no control at those times. It took me years to truly learn what you know by instinct, Obi-Wan," he admitted.
Obi-Wan looked surprised. And then thoughtful.
"I still feel as if I have missed something. And that the opportunity will not return. Or if it does, I will not take it."
"No," Qui-Gon agreed. "That seems unlikely."
Silence claimed them. With the increasing light, the tame creatures of the garden squawked and twittered their morning routines. Qui-Gon felt that there was more to discuss, but not yet. Obi-Wan's revelation was too new and his own experiences unexamined for too long. He smiled; they would discuss the details later.
Qui-Gon straightened, lifting his head and drawing the Force to him. In the end all Jedi found themselves choosing between the transitory pleasures of living and the essence and energy of life itself.
Obi-Wan perked up, sensing the gathering Force around his Master.
Qui-Gon breathed deeply. The crisp, refreshing air filled him. He leapt to his feet. A slight breeze pushed his robe and long hair back. Obi-Wan followed.
"Shall we visit the rest of the garden?" He invited, gesturing to the paths far below. Obi-Wan grinned.
They jumped off the platform together.
=== oO%*%Oo = END = oO%*%Oo ===
(This story was first posted on tf.n 1-Aug-2007)
Disclaimer: All characters and situations belong to George and Lucasfilm; I'm just playing in their sandbox.