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The Looming Threshold
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. Theme taken from a bunny by dianethx.
The first time Qui-Gon hints that Obi-Wan is ready for the next stage of his Jedi career—and Obi-Wan doesn't quite get the hint.
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The stream rippled, soft azure reflective of a brilliant sky, waves faceted by the purity of afternoon light. His feet were smeared beneath the water, and he kicked them gently, to watch the shimmering stir. Then Obi-Wan leaned back on his elbows, and his eyes fluttered shut against the glowing press of heat.
"Padawan, it'll have dried out to dust by the time you decide to get in." Qui-Gon predicted. He stood with the cool flow around his shoulders, and silvered chestnut mane untied and wet up to his neck.
Obi-Wan smiled. "Well at least it won't be cold then."
The corner of Qui-Gon's mouth was pulled into a smirk. On this rare day of freedom during an assignment, they had decided to explore the local nature, trekking through paths that cut across the heavy forest, and breathing air untainted by city congestion. As the day climbed toward its peak, the Master had stopped at the calm river, and, after shedding his cumbersome robe and tunics, leapt in.
But his apprentice approached more slowly. He slid out of his cloak and rolled up his leggings, to submerge himself calf-deep. The goading had begun immediately, yet Obi-Wan was content to allow his body to grow accustomed to the temperature.
"You seem especially hesitant, Obi-Wan. You don't know something I don't, do you?" The older Jedi crooked an eyebrow, bobbing slightly in the jeweled waters. "Flesh-eaters aren't indigenous to this area, are they?"
Obi-Wan shrugged. "Perhaps you should have read the planet overview with a more attentive eye." He suggested, a mischievous twinkle present in his own gaze.
"Hm. After twelve years, I thought some of that childhood cheekiness would've abated."
Obi-Wan merely smiled again, and watched the stream separate and quiver as his legs swept through.
And Qui-Gon watched him watch, his mind settled by the warm breeze and clear sky. But, at the same time, he was swarmed with thought, and found that much of his contentment had been compromised. The respite from duty had been sorely needed, for their latest mission was illuminating too much of what he didn't want to see, and he had to break away, to be away from everything that reminded him of time's cruel persistence. His apprentice's skills had evolved in saber and mediation, the blade a natural outcropping of his body, his words fluid and peaceful in moments of upheaval. Less and less, Qui-Gon was the protective wall between Obi-Wan and peril.
The Padawan would become a Knight, far sooner than Qui-Gon had dreamt. The braid, a twining of fibers and spirits, would be shorn.
It was enough to sharpen a pain in his chest, and cause him to desire to reach for those long, plaited strands, and savor the precious days so quickly passing. He couldn't cement Obi-Wan in the customary place of an apprentice, at the side of his Master. He was one man, and couldn't combat the natural way of things. For centuries upon centuries, Padawans had moved on to Knighthood. And for far longer than even that, children had grown and left their parents.
But most parents don't have to send their grown children into constant hostility and violence.
Something in him quivered, and he shook his head, swallowing thickly. When he returned to the present, Obi-Wan was looking at him, head canted to the side.
"Master?" There was a minute tinge of worry coloring the dulcet.
Qui-Gon blew out a breath and smiled. "I'm fine, Obi-Wan."
Eyes of warring cerulean and jade regarded him with lingering concern. "I thought I might've sensed…discord. About the mission?"
"Oh no, Padawan. Nothing like that." The man studied his companion with a strange, faint half-smile, then added, "You always seem to sense more."
Obi-Wan's forehead creased at the observation, and suddenly he appeared uncomfortable, turning his attention to a bird cleansing its wings a few feet away.
The focus of the Jedi Master stayed with his student. Obi-Wan had never handled compliments well. While others absorbed and basked in new pride, Obi-Wan gleaned unease from it. Qui-Gon wondered if that portion of his personality had always existed, or if it was a trait learned during the often-tumultuous apprenticeship. He didn't want to consider the possibility that he was responsible for the pulses of uncertainty that threaded through Obi-Wan's heart. Especially since no one had as much faith in the young man as Qui-Gon Jinn did. "Your work during this assignment has been exemplary."
Obi-Wan's eyes flickered from the bathing creature to the bearded face of his mentor. "Thank you, Master." He said quietly, after a moment.
"You're quite welcome," Qui-Gon murmured. With a few sweeping strokes, he had crossed over to his apprentice. He lifted himself from the tepid water to the edge of warm earth. He sat there, beside Obi-Wan, his feet lost beneath the waves.
The young countenance was in profile, outline blazed by the prominent sun. Qui-Gon's breath was stolen in the grasp of that delicate strength and he extended a finger, to wipe a stray droplet from the cheek. But the action only left more beads rolling down; his finger had been damp from the swim. "With every task, you improve enormously. It's amazing to watch."
The surprise seized Obi-Wan first, then, once more, "Thank you, Master."
The words were birthed from numb lips, and Obi-Wan was glad to gaze out at the forest, instead of at Qui-Gon. All that his Master was saying…of course, it was what he wanted to hear, down at his core. But as the sentiments were spoken, Obi-Wan's first instinct was to deflect them, to push them away as he would eye-stinging debris. Eventually, he would accept them, and go to them in the lonely intervals, but not now. Now, he was discomfited—embarrassed. He flexed his toes, and tried to close his mind.
"Obi-Wan?"
He looked at his Master.
"Do you think it's truly been twelve years?" The man asked him.
Obi-Wan smiled. "No." In truth, it felt like those years had comprised his entire life. His early childhood had been another existence for him, without the comfort of his Master's guidance. "It seems longer."
Qui-Gon chuckled. "Longer? Hm…I'm not quite sure how to perceive that."
"Perceive it as this, Master: I can't imagine life without you." Obi-Wan said, with an inherent shyness. But undeniable truth rang in the words.
Qui-Gon's heart clenched, for he could imagine life without his apprentice…after all, he had lived it. Apprentices came, taking up residence in the hearts of their Masters, creating unique bonds and powerful friendships.
And then they left, to Knighthood, or something more sinister. Either way, they always left.
He looked at Obi-Wan now, young face composed in the gentle palette of bright day. He looked at the person who possessed his whole heart, and hated what he had to say. "I can't stay with you forever, Padawan." He lightly pinched the dimpled chin and smiled, "The rest of the Universe would resent me for keeping you all to myself."
Obi-Wan stared up at him. "I don't care about the rest of the Universe."
"You should. You have a lot to offer it."
There was a speculative glistening in the cerulean gaze before a smile turned it to glitter. "Don't be so sure, Master."
"But I am sure, Obi-Wan. You surpass every expectation. You…" Qui-Gon stopped then, seeing, really seeing, the dread lurking behind youthful features. Obi-Wan wasn't ready for this kind of talk. Neither of them were. "…Look like you're sweltering." He finished, and nudged his head toward the calmed waters, "Why don't you join me this time?"
Obi-Wan's focus flickered from the stream to his Master's face. "Only if you go first. Then I'll follow you."
Qui-Gon felt it as they both settled into the warmth of the normal ways, the routines and traditions. Home, for a short time longer. But then, a flash of mischief streaked across his mind, and with a devilish grin, he pushed his unaware apprentice.
Obi-Wan splashed down with a yelp. For a moment, he disappeared beneath the mad rippling and bubble froth. Then, his head darted up, breaking through the surface. From behind a drenched curtain of auburn, he glared at his hysterical mentor, who had collapsed in laughter. "Prepare to be one with your beloved Force, old man."
Qui-Gon sobered only slightly, wiping at his eyes. "I'm afraid I can't do that yet. Who'd take care of you?"
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