Title: No Other Choice
Author: Antigone
See first chapter to entire information
Thanx to all who reviewed, you guys are sweet! Hmmm, morning sickness, huh? Well, maybe if I make a few tweeks…lol
* * *
"Obi-Wan."
No answer.
"Obi-Wan!"
Qui-Gon palmed open the door to his padawan's room, sighing at the red fuzz tipped lump almost entirely hidden under the white sheets. It was half- past the eighth hour for Force's sake!
Qui-Gon strode over to the sleep couch, grabbed hold of a corner of the tangled mess of bedding, and yanked it off his slumbering apprentice. Obi- Wan mumbled incoherently before curling into a tighter ball and burrowing his head deeper into the pillow.
Qui-Gon chuckled softly at the boy's instinctive attempt to maintain some of his previous warmth and gave a quick tug on the braid which lay limply across Obi-Wan's bare neck. The Jedi master was mildly surprised that his padawan wasn't wearing his sleep tunic and, glancing around the small room, found it crumpled and bunched up in the corner next to the door.
You would think, Qui-Gon mused, that, after five years, either I would learn to accept my padawan's living habits or he would learn to pick up his clothes. Qui-Gon smirked, why I held to that ridiculous hope still remains a mystery.
Another jerk of the braid and Obi-Wan responded audibly – with semi-words, but audibly.
"Mmmm…wha?"
"Up, padawan! Up!" Qui-Gon smiled slightly as Obi-Wan lifted his head a little, turning a bleary eye towards his master before digging his face deeper into the pillow.
Turning to leave, Qui-Gon called over his shoulder, "Obi-Wan, I want you up and ready." The master snatched the wrinkled sleep tunic from its corner and flung it on top of its owner's bare back, "Now."
Qui-Gon palmed open the door and walked out, confident, as the door swished shut, that his padawan would be joining him at the breakfast table momentarily.
* * *
Obi-Wan pulled his head up from the blessed softness of his pillow, unable to focus on anything other than the intense throbbing in his head – his head which seemed to have put on 50 pounds during his one hour of actual sleep. Force, how he just wanted to stay in bed…possibly die, but for now, he would settle to just stay in bed.
Shivering, Obi-Wan made a weak attempt to pull the pile of sheets back up, over his shoulders, but changed his mind halfway through. If he got too comfortable, then he'd give in to the allure of the unconscious – only to be dragged out some minutes later by a very annoyed Jedi master. Not exactly what Obi-Wan wanted to – or, for that matter, was capable of – dealing with in his present condition.
Summoning what little resolve he had, Obi-Wan forced himself up – the discarded sleep tunic Qui-Gon had thrown on him sliding off – swung his legs over the side of the sleep couch and pushed off the bed, staggering a moment before catching himself on the nearby dresser.
Groping blindly in draws, to sick to bother himself with fully opening his eyes, Obi-Wan found – by touch – something suitable to wear, pulled the tunic and pants on, leaving his sleep bottoms lying inside out next to his bed, ran a hand through his ginger spikes, and left his room to join Qui- Gon for morning meal.
Obi-Wan walked slowly down the hall, into the common room, and stopping just before the entrance to the eating room. There was no use in even trying to make himself look perfectly fine – the effort would only further convince Qui-Gon that his padawan needed to be looked over by a healer.
"Good morning, Master," Obi-Wan said, forcing a smile as he stepped into the room, grabbed the plate of food his master had left on the counter for him, and sat down at the table.
"Good morning, Padawan. Nice to see you finally got up," the Jedi said, a smile softening his words. He watched as his apprentice set the plate down at the seat across from him and dropped himself into the chair, slouching down immediately into a more comfortable, but definitely not characteristic, position.
Suddenly, as if aware of the concern sparking in his master, Obi-Wan pulled himself up, straightened his tunic, picked up his fork – but made no move to eat.
Now *that* was not normal. Any other day, that plate would have long since been cleaned and refilled – possibly twice. Qui-Gon decided to broach the subject from as neutral ground as possible.
"Obi-Wan, I knew that you were able to make a mess of your room quite efficiently in daytime hours, but I never dreamed that you would be able to do it at night." Qui-Gon smiled at his apprentice whose eyes had taken to resting on the tzuka bird eggs in front of him, "Why one would rip off a perfectly good source of warmth during the middle of the night is beyond me."
Obi-Wan brought his eyes up to meet his master's, summoning a weak grin, "It was uncomfortable."
Well, that *was* the truth. His skin had increased its sensitivity tenfold last night and the material of the shirt was murder on his chest and arms. He had thrown it off moments after returning from the fresher, not caring to put it in its proper place.
The only response he received from his master was a low "Mmmhmmm," and a scrutinizing stare.
It took all of the padawan's restraint to keep from squirming under the intense gaze. Stop it! He scolded himself inwardly, you aren't an initiate anymore. How do you expect to be of any use if you crumble with just a look?
Obi-Wan's eyes fell on the doorway. He needed to get out. To go somewhere – the actual place didn't matter. But, as he pushed his chair out and began to rise, the master effectively stayed his padawan's escape.
"Where are you going? You haven't touched your breakfast."
Obi-Wan smiled tightly at his master, mentally reaching for an excuse for standing up.
"I was just going to get some muuka juice, Master. Would you like some?"
More scrutiny.
"No thank you, padawan."
Obi-Wan went to the cooling unit and retrieved the juice container, poured himself a glass, returned the juice to its place, then returned to his seat – all at the slowest pace possible. Aware of his master's unbroken gaze, Obi-Wan took a small sip, wincing slightly at the tart taste and praying that his stomach would accept the blue liquid.
Qui-Gon sighed. This was getting ridiculous. If Obi-Wan wasn't going to tell him what was wrong, Qui-Gon would simply ask.
"Padawan, are you ill?"
Obi-Wan blanched, but responded, "No, Master."
"You haven't touched your food."
"I had a large dinner with Bant last night."
Qui-Gon frowned, "Would you like me to fix you something else? Lunch is not for some time, Padawan."
"No, Master. Thank you, but I'll be fine."
Shaking his head slightly, Qui-Gon conceded defeat. He could not force Obi- Wan to tell him what was wrong, nor would he pry into the boy's mind. If it got worse, whatever it was, Obi-Wan would come to him.
"Obi-Wan, I have a few errands to run. We'll have your training session at the tenth hour. Don't be late." Giving the boy a smile only lightly touched with concern – hiding it entirely was no small effort – the Jedi master stood and exited both the eating room and the apartment, leaving Obi- Wan to his daily chore of clearing the table.
Funny, the padawan thought as he carried his and his master's plates to the disposal, I'm usually better at fooling Master.
His mind replayed the words and he grimaced. "I'm usually better at fooling Master." For the past five years – before, even – the one thing Obi-Wan had learned was never to deceive his master, yet that was exactly what he was doing right now.
But, you can't tell him, Obi-Wan reasoned. You know you can't
Besides, what would Qui-Gon think if he knew? Would he understand? Would he be disgusted? Maybe if I just knew how he would react…
But, you do know. That's why you're doing it this way, isn't it?
Checking his chrono as he finished wiping down the table, Obi-Wan noted that it was a quarter past the ninth hour. At least he could get some rest before he needed to meet Qui-Gon.
He dropped a damp dish rag into the sink as he headed for his room, all the while reaffirming his initial decision. He had no other choice.
Like I'd actually tell you what's going on! But, please, be good lil Jedi and review, tell me what you think is going on…it's highly amusing =)
Author: Antigone
See first chapter to entire information
Thanx to all who reviewed, you guys are sweet! Hmmm, morning sickness, huh? Well, maybe if I make a few tweeks…lol
* * *
"Obi-Wan."
No answer.
"Obi-Wan!"
Qui-Gon palmed open the door to his padawan's room, sighing at the red fuzz tipped lump almost entirely hidden under the white sheets. It was half- past the eighth hour for Force's sake!
Qui-Gon strode over to the sleep couch, grabbed hold of a corner of the tangled mess of bedding, and yanked it off his slumbering apprentice. Obi- Wan mumbled incoherently before curling into a tighter ball and burrowing his head deeper into the pillow.
Qui-Gon chuckled softly at the boy's instinctive attempt to maintain some of his previous warmth and gave a quick tug on the braid which lay limply across Obi-Wan's bare neck. The Jedi master was mildly surprised that his padawan wasn't wearing his sleep tunic and, glancing around the small room, found it crumpled and bunched up in the corner next to the door.
You would think, Qui-Gon mused, that, after five years, either I would learn to accept my padawan's living habits or he would learn to pick up his clothes. Qui-Gon smirked, why I held to that ridiculous hope still remains a mystery.
Another jerk of the braid and Obi-Wan responded audibly – with semi-words, but audibly.
"Mmmm…wha?"
"Up, padawan! Up!" Qui-Gon smiled slightly as Obi-Wan lifted his head a little, turning a bleary eye towards his master before digging his face deeper into the pillow.
Turning to leave, Qui-Gon called over his shoulder, "Obi-Wan, I want you up and ready." The master snatched the wrinkled sleep tunic from its corner and flung it on top of its owner's bare back, "Now."
Qui-Gon palmed open the door and walked out, confident, as the door swished shut, that his padawan would be joining him at the breakfast table momentarily.
* * *
Obi-Wan pulled his head up from the blessed softness of his pillow, unable to focus on anything other than the intense throbbing in his head – his head which seemed to have put on 50 pounds during his one hour of actual sleep. Force, how he just wanted to stay in bed…possibly die, but for now, he would settle to just stay in bed.
Shivering, Obi-Wan made a weak attempt to pull the pile of sheets back up, over his shoulders, but changed his mind halfway through. If he got too comfortable, then he'd give in to the allure of the unconscious – only to be dragged out some minutes later by a very annoyed Jedi master. Not exactly what Obi-Wan wanted to – or, for that matter, was capable of – dealing with in his present condition.
Summoning what little resolve he had, Obi-Wan forced himself up – the discarded sleep tunic Qui-Gon had thrown on him sliding off – swung his legs over the side of the sleep couch and pushed off the bed, staggering a moment before catching himself on the nearby dresser.
Groping blindly in draws, to sick to bother himself with fully opening his eyes, Obi-Wan found – by touch – something suitable to wear, pulled the tunic and pants on, leaving his sleep bottoms lying inside out next to his bed, ran a hand through his ginger spikes, and left his room to join Qui- Gon for morning meal.
Obi-Wan walked slowly down the hall, into the common room, and stopping just before the entrance to the eating room. There was no use in even trying to make himself look perfectly fine – the effort would only further convince Qui-Gon that his padawan needed to be looked over by a healer.
"Good morning, Master," Obi-Wan said, forcing a smile as he stepped into the room, grabbed the plate of food his master had left on the counter for him, and sat down at the table.
"Good morning, Padawan. Nice to see you finally got up," the Jedi said, a smile softening his words. He watched as his apprentice set the plate down at the seat across from him and dropped himself into the chair, slouching down immediately into a more comfortable, but definitely not characteristic, position.
Suddenly, as if aware of the concern sparking in his master, Obi-Wan pulled himself up, straightened his tunic, picked up his fork – but made no move to eat.
Now *that* was not normal. Any other day, that plate would have long since been cleaned and refilled – possibly twice. Qui-Gon decided to broach the subject from as neutral ground as possible.
"Obi-Wan, I knew that you were able to make a mess of your room quite efficiently in daytime hours, but I never dreamed that you would be able to do it at night." Qui-Gon smiled at his apprentice whose eyes had taken to resting on the tzuka bird eggs in front of him, "Why one would rip off a perfectly good source of warmth during the middle of the night is beyond me."
Obi-Wan brought his eyes up to meet his master's, summoning a weak grin, "It was uncomfortable."
Well, that *was* the truth. His skin had increased its sensitivity tenfold last night and the material of the shirt was murder on his chest and arms. He had thrown it off moments after returning from the fresher, not caring to put it in its proper place.
The only response he received from his master was a low "Mmmhmmm," and a scrutinizing stare.
It took all of the padawan's restraint to keep from squirming under the intense gaze. Stop it! He scolded himself inwardly, you aren't an initiate anymore. How do you expect to be of any use if you crumble with just a look?
Obi-Wan's eyes fell on the doorway. He needed to get out. To go somewhere – the actual place didn't matter. But, as he pushed his chair out and began to rise, the master effectively stayed his padawan's escape.
"Where are you going? You haven't touched your breakfast."
Obi-Wan smiled tightly at his master, mentally reaching for an excuse for standing up.
"I was just going to get some muuka juice, Master. Would you like some?"
More scrutiny.
"No thank you, padawan."
Obi-Wan went to the cooling unit and retrieved the juice container, poured himself a glass, returned the juice to its place, then returned to his seat – all at the slowest pace possible. Aware of his master's unbroken gaze, Obi-Wan took a small sip, wincing slightly at the tart taste and praying that his stomach would accept the blue liquid.
Qui-Gon sighed. This was getting ridiculous. If Obi-Wan wasn't going to tell him what was wrong, Qui-Gon would simply ask.
"Padawan, are you ill?"
Obi-Wan blanched, but responded, "No, Master."
"You haven't touched your food."
"I had a large dinner with Bant last night."
Qui-Gon frowned, "Would you like me to fix you something else? Lunch is not for some time, Padawan."
"No, Master. Thank you, but I'll be fine."
Shaking his head slightly, Qui-Gon conceded defeat. He could not force Obi- Wan to tell him what was wrong, nor would he pry into the boy's mind. If it got worse, whatever it was, Obi-Wan would come to him.
"Obi-Wan, I have a few errands to run. We'll have your training session at the tenth hour. Don't be late." Giving the boy a smile only lightly touched with concern – hiding it entirely was no small effort – the Jedi master stood and exited both the eating room and the apartment, leaving Obi- Wan to his daily chore of clearing the table.
Funny, the padawan thought as he carried his and his master's plates to the disposal, I'm usually better at fooling Master.
His mind replayed the words and he grimaced. "I'm usually better at fooling Master." For the past five years – before, even – the one thing Obi-Wan had learned was never to deceive his master, yet that was exactly what he was doing right now.
But, you can't tell him, Obi-Wan reasoned. You know you can't
Besides, what would Qui-Gon think if he knew? Would he understand? Would he be disgusted? Maybe if I just knew how he would react…
But, you do know. That's why you're doing it this way, isn't it?
Checking his chrono as he finished wiping down the table, Obi-Wan noted that it was a quarter past the ninth hour. At least he could get some rest before he needed to meet Qui-Gon.
He dropped a damp dish rag into the sink as he headed for his room, all the while reaffirming his initial decision. He had no other choice.
Like I'd actually tell you what's going on! But, please, be good lil Jedi and review, tell me what you think is going on…it's highly amusing =)
