My first semi-serious attempt at Star Wars fanfiction.
Normal
by
Redex
He was supposed to be meditating.
He had given up a few hours ago and settled for watching people get off the bus across the street. Normal, every day people, just going about their business. Maybe they were company heads or counsel members to be living this high in the city, but they were still normal. They still ihad/i lives.
He, he was something else, someone else, waiting for his master to come back from an important meeting with the Jedi high counsel.
And that certain master was entering the room, disrupting his "meditation".
"You weren't meditating, were you?"
He sighed. Although he had known that he would never get it by Qui-gon, he had still held a little shred of hope. He didn't want to disappoint, but sometimes it just seemed like he wasn't getting anywhere.
Qui-gon was looking at him in that way that seemed to read his very thoughts, and sunk down with a Jedi's grace onto the carpet. When he sighed back and slumped out of his rigidity, even if it was just a miniscule change, it caught Obi-wan's eye. This meeting had been worrying him more than he had let on.
"How did it go?"
"Not well. We've lost two more knights and a padawon in this civil war. They want us to go."
Obi-wan nodded and frowned, but...
"Did you make my petition to become a knight?"
Qui-gon gave him a long-suffering look.
"No. Not know."
The padawon gave a long sigh and looked down at the hands clasped in his lap. To be a knight was everything, and most importantly, he could give to this man he trusted and loved a part of his life, rather than having it just taken. He wanted to prove to Qui-gon that he wasn't as alone as he thought; he wanted to prove he could do something on his own. He wanted to prove that he was worth picking up, despite the fact that Qui-gon hadn't taken a padawon since... that incident. But despite his growing years as a pupil, he was not being given the chance to become more. Equal.
He looked up and asked the child's question. "Why?"
His master always gave a different reason. You get excited too easily, you can't meditate very easily, you need to work on your diplomacy... Today he must have been especially tired, because he gave him a real answer.
When he looked into those earth-dark eyes, he felt his heart lurch at the vulnerability there.
"You aren't ready. You take some things lightly; you don't feel the pride you must uphold no matter what you are doing. And... I don't want to loose you because of that."
How often was it that he felt affection come from his master? He knew it was there, he felt it there, but it wasn't ever said.
He leant forward on his knees, neither pair of eyes ever flinching, and kissed gently the lips surrounded by bristle. There was no reaction, no resistance, no acceptance. He let go and fell forward with a sigh, resting his forehead on the shoulder covered by a formal robe's sleek fabric.
"I wouldn't leave you," he murmured, knowing Qui-gon would hear it no matter how tired he was.
An arm wrapped around his back, tightening their awkward embrace. The body he was leaning against was still stiff, but a little had relaxed.
He straightened his back, still on his knees while his master sat cross-legged, and allowed himself to be pressed against a firm torso in a form of a hug. It didn't help that Obi-wan was taller like this, and he had to cup Qui-gon's cheek to get him to look up. He bent down and met those lips again, feeling them give way a little, just parting the smallest of fractions, but it was enough encouragement for him to continue.
Always, it was like this. Qui-gon would tell him what to do, sit back and watch, and then only sometimes step in to tutor him himself.
"You don't believe me?" he asked, and Qui-gon smiled a little up at him.
"Why shouldn't I?"
One of his hands slid up the back of his loose shirt, feeling the moving muscles there under his hand as Obi-wan kissed him passionately, he finally giving in and kissing back. He didn't usually let it go this far, but... as much as he liked to convince himself otherwise, he needed this.
Muffled cursing as usually-deft fingers fumbled at the dozens of buttons keeping him enclosed in fabric.
If we go all the way the entire tower will be able to sense the change in our relationship, he thought to himself as a last form of resistance. It seemed like he was in a daze as he watched lips travel up his somehow-bare chest, his many scars, made by anything from smictars to phase pistols.
Since when have I ever been considered normal by the temple anyways? he thought, and so in giving in, slid his hands through soft, pale hair, cut short.
"I won't leave you," he heard whispered again and closed his eyes.
"You will have to, some time," he prophesized, sighing at a young padawon's vision of forever.
He shivered none the less when fingers held the clasp holding the last barrier together, staying for a moment to ask for silent permission before continuing their movements.
"Obi-wan..." he murmured, but that was all he could think of saying, his usually quick-wit useless in presenting these emotions that rolled beneath the surface of his skin. Despite that, he knew that his padawon had gotten the message before even he had.
Neither of them were normal, never would be, even despite a knight's attempts to keep a treasured padawon safe.
Comments? Criticism? Complaints?