Prompt from Wortri: Anyways, you know Obi Wan's allergy to hoi-broth? Yeah it's not pretty.
So maybe Obi Wan's allergic reaction occurs during a diplomatic event so he tries his best to hide it but he just can't breathe and it's too much so he just quietly blacks out.
Qui flips out and makes a complete mess of the diplomacy but who even cares Obi Wan is dying.
Because Obi Wan chose to prolong exposure, he loses his voice for a few days and gets scolded without being able to snark back and Qui starts out resolute but ends in tears asking him to please be careful and to never leave him and hugs and comfort.
…..
"Remember how important this dinner is Little One." Qui-Gon lectured, as he neatened up Obi-Wan's uniform, "One wrong move, and trade deals all over this quadrant will cease to exist!"
"I know Master." Obi-Wan chuckled, batting the older man's hands away, "Perfect manners, smart clothing, and don't turn your nose up at the weird food that they'll serve… you did- "
"- Mention your extreme allergy to hoi-broth? Of course I did!" Qui-Gon frowned, "What kind of Master do you take me for?"
"… A good one who's going to let us leave early, instead of standing around talking about politics for seven hours?"
"Nice try Padawan, nice try." As Qui-Gon headed to the door, he suddenly stopped in his tracks and turned back to Obi-Wan, "Do you have everything?"
Going through his bag, Obi-Wan nodded. "Card for the room, communicator, data-pad- "He then stopped, realizing that he'd left his EpiPen.
"I have one Padawan." Qui-Gon smiled, ruffling Obi-Wan's hair as the teen bit his lip sheepishly, "A good thing we checked isn't it."
The tone was slightly scolding, prompting Obi-Wan to duck his head and nod weakly. Honestly, some days he felt like his Master paid more attention to his allergy than he did.
"Come on Little One, we have a long night ahead of us."
…..
"Master Jinn. Padawan Kenobi." The Senator bowed low, "We are delighted that you could make it."
"Your invitation was an honour to receive." Qui-Gon replied, returning the bow as they moved further into the large ornate room, taking their seats at the table.
"Ah!" cried out another Senator, from another political party, dressed in all his finery with rings on every finger, "The Jedi's are here! Maybe you can settle a debate for us?"
As his Master listened politely to the Senator, Obi-Wan smiled at the server, accepting a glass of juice as his Master refused the wine.
"Not partaking this evening Master Jinn?"
Qui-Gon shook his head, accepting a glass of the same juice that Obi-Wan was having. "I believe in keeping my mind clear and free of distractions."
It was then that the first course was served.
"So, Padawan Kenobi…" the finely dressed Senator turned his attention to the young teen, "We've spent so long discussing the future of our planets, we've never really asked about you. Any plans for the future… aside from being a fine Jedi Master of course."
After taking another bite of his starters, Obi-Wan shrugged. "I… I was hoping to be a negotiator. Take a few classes in diplomacy."
"How… thrilling. Most kids your age have no idea what to do with their lives."
"We're raised a little differently." Obi-Wan chuckled, his voice fading slightly on the last word… he was also starting to wheeze slightly, but thought nothing of it.
"Do Jedi children do anything for fun? From what I've heard it's work, train, sleep and then more work!"
Before Obi-Wan could answer, the first Senator spoke up, "Padawan Kenobi, what's on your hand there?"
He looked down, only to see a large red splotch forming on the back of his hand. When he opened his mouth to reply with a "I don't know", he realised he was only capable of wheezing.
But… this only happened when he had hoi-broth… this wasn't hoi-broth.
"There's a patch on his cheek now!" cried out another guest, "Is it poison?!"
Obi-Wan's eyes got wide as he tried to tell them it was probably just an allergy…. Accusations of poison could destroy the trade talks.
"M-M-Master!" he managed to wheeze, feeling his throat tighten as he tried to get Qui-Gon's attention. His vision was starting to get hazy, and he knew he was seconds away from passing out.
Dark spots started to appear in his vision as his throat tightened even further, allowing almost no air to pass through. Vaguely he could hear Qui-Gon shouting at a nearby waiter, who was frantically trying to explain something.
"M-Master?"
"Stay still Little One." Qui-Gon ordered quietly, as a small pain popped up in Obi-Wan's leg, a clear sign that his Master had used the EpiPen.
He could feel his throat relax almost immediately, but continued to stay still as Qui-Gon slowly counted to three, before removing the EpiPen, gently massaging the area where he'd stuck the needle in.
"It's okay Little One…" Qui-Gon lifted Obi-Wan's head up gently and placed it on his lap, running his fingers through the reddish/blonde hair as the Padawan started to calm down, "… I'm sorry I didn't notice sooner… I was so concerned with these… these talks!"
He sighed again, "Apparently, they cooked the starter in hoi-broth, didn't think it would affect you…. I've been quick to inform them how wrong they were."
Obi-Wan cleared his throat to speak, only for his Master to shush him.
Don't try and talk yet, Obi-Wan." He gently commanded, "Has someone called a medic yet?!"
Obi-Wan was sure that wasn't the way to speak to important Senators… but none of them seemed particularly offended. In fact, they were probably all relieved that it wasn't a case of poisoning by the opposing side.
But he couldn't think about that…. Not when he was so exhausted.
"You can sleep Little One… I'm here. Don't worry, I'm here."
…..
Needless to say, the diplomatic talks were put on hold… and tensions started to rise again.
Due to the stress of the allergic reaction and how long he went without being exposed to the EpiPen, Obi-Wan was instructed not to speak for at least five days, in order to give his throat a chance to heal.
Qui-Gon hadn't left his side since, and usually Obi-Wan wouldn't complain, happy for the extra attention…. But they had work to do, and if the Senators decided peace was no longer an option, or that the attempt to kill the Jedi Padawan was deliberate, then everything could go horribly wrong in a matter of days.
When Obi-Wan tried to signal that his Master should go and take care of it, Qui-Gon started to scold him, clearly having reached a breaking point.
It started out like any other lecture, "the Force will show me where I'm meant to go", "the diplomats and I have been in regular contact", "worrying so much won't help your throat", "a Padawan should not instruct his Master as to where he should go."
And then the tone changed.
"I should have been more specific, stricter with the cooks…" Qui-Gon whispered, "… they almost got you killed, all because I wasn't specific enough about your allergy… I almost got you killed."
Leaning over, Obi-Wan gently patted his Master's hand, silently asking him to look him in the eye…. Telling him it wasn't his fault was a little harder, so he opted to shake his head until his Master got the point.
"Alright, alright…" Qui-Gon eventually chuckled, placing his hand on Obi-Wan's head to stop him from shaking it, "… I get it. You don't think it's my fault."
Nod.
"We'll agree to disagree then."
Violent shaking.
"Okay, okay…. It wasn't my fault."
Nod.
"But it was the cooks."
Decisive nod.
