Fog
Summary: Pre-TPM. Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi. A sickness overwhelms Obi-Wan allowing Qui-Gon to finally see their life as a Jedi team for what it can be.
"Master, it feels strange here. I feel... different. Do you sense it?"
Obi-Wan Kenobi slowed his confident steps as he and Qui-Gon Jinn strode into the compact town. They were here only as passers by. A quick meal and a place to rest for the evening was all they sought. But the vibe of this town was unusual. They both sensed it, that feeling of something not being quite right.
"I do. It's not a disturbance in the Force, rather more a dream-like quality? If that makes sense."
"It does," the boy replied, keeping stride with the taller Qui-Gon. Until they knew what was going on, it was best to not be separated. "An earthy floating sensation, though the air is thick and humid. It's very strange and unnatural."
"The humid air is in direct conflict with the other sensations. It's quite... unique." Qui-Gon said as he pondered the area around them. The town, compact as it seemed, was alive with both people and animals. Bustling would be the word he was after. Not insanely so like Coruscant. No, there was no competition with the massive city planet, but this was unexpectedly lively. Every other place they'd been during their planet stay had been farm-based and rural. This place was definitely not.
The late afternoon sun had a relentless intensity to it and fed the humid air. So much so, that Obi-Wan stripped off his cloak in a battle to stop the sweat dripping from his brow. He noticed Qui-Gon had not yet done the same.
"Master, are you not hot?"
Qui-Gon gave him the slightest of whimsical glances. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes.
"Please don't tell me that it's all in my mind. You cannot use the Force to keep cool."
"Obi-Wan, the Force is capable of so much more than you believe it to be. At times, you choose to guide it rather than allow it to guide you. And in turn, you are hot and I am simply... warm."
Obi-Wan doubted the words, especially when he looked up and saw Qui-Gon's hair beginning to dampen from sweat. "Master, you can say what you wish, even if your mind is warm, you are as hot as I am. You've simply chosen not to accept it yet."
With a stop and a stare, Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps... you are not completely wrong."
"So, what will we do? Leave this place? My head feels strange, but I don't know if that's from the heat or that weird dreamy feel. I want to feel badly, but I can't. Not completely. Saying that out loud sounds ridiculous, but do you think that's intentional, Master?"
With a stroke to his short beard, Qui-Gon replied, "Uncertain. It requires further exploration. We are hungry and tired. If there is nothing more here than an odd feeling, then we should be all right." The big man pointed into the distance. "There's an Inn ahead. Let's speak to a local and determine if we should chance an overnight."
The townspeople didn't think much of the two Jedi. They bustled and busied themselves with work or children or chasing loose animals. The Inn, with it's chipped and faded wood facade wasn't large, but appeared harmless enough on the outside. Inside, it was thick with same outdoor humidity, but it did welcome them. Qui-Gon shook the lightheadedness away and approached the stubby-legged desk on the far wall. He towered over it and over the tiny old woman behind. She was neither intimated by his size nor did she back down from it.
"Ah, visitors. Help ya?" Shorter than Obi-Wan, but wrinkled and gray, her long hair fell to mid-back with a single braid down the center. Eyes were a stark green and brighter than her advanced age.
"Yes, miss," Qui-Gon began, always polite and treating people on equal footing as his own, "We seek a room and a meal for the evening. We are traveling and require rest."
The emerald green eyes looked them up and down, taking in appearance, hair, uniform, everything. There was no recognition if she knew they were Jedi or even what a Jedi was. Which wasn't surprising. This was an outskirt planet. Well removed from the politics and battles of the interior. Jedi were generally not well known to simple townsfolk.
"Eh. We got a room. Ain't big, but can do. Bed ain't but one, ya gotta be sharing with ya son there, fella."
Obi-Wan opened his mouth to let her know they were not father-son (a mistake often made by those unfamiliar with Jedi tradition), but Qui-Gon set a finger on the crook of the boy's elbow to silence the thought. The Jedi then set his attention back to the old woman.
"That would be fine. We have dataries. Republic credits. Will that payment suffice for such a pleasant establishment?"
It was a long shot. The outskirts were not always friendly to republic credits and if she rejected them, the Jedi had no additional method of payment and Qui-Gon's favorite pastime of bartering for necessities would not pass go here, as they had nothing to trade. The woman gave them another look-over. It was unclear what she was seeing or attempting to see, but Qui-Gon had laid out a little charm and pleasant smile with his last comment. That, along with a slight pull on the Force to direct her decision toward the right path. The inn keeper accepted his offer.
"Ya got credits. That be good. Cost ya extra though. Gotta convert credits and ain't always easy."
Qui-Gon bowed politely. Her terms accepted.
Next to him, Obi-Wan watched carefully. He couldn't claim to have the same charm as that of his master. At times, he had no idea how the man managed to convince so many with so little. Incidents that should have ended in violence, would end in peaceful conclusion. All because of Jinn's implausible abilities with not only negotiation, but also knowing his opposition.
The boy took note and hoped that one day he could mirror those same qualities.
"Might you offer a hot meal as well, Miss?"
"Ivis. But ya call me Ivy."
"Miss Ivy."
"Just Ivy. Ain't no miss nothin'. I ain't as old as ya think I am."
"Age is but a number, Ivy. And you are wise beyond your enduring years."
More charm. Qui-Gon topped it off with another warm smile that sucked her right in. He hadn't even needed the Force for that one.
"Will cook ya somethin' hot. Bring it to ya room in an hour time."
With a bow, "You are a most gracious host."
—-
The pair strode down the hall to the final door on the left.
"How's your head?" Qui-Gon asked his charge as they opened the door and stood staring at the ridiculously atomic room.
"Still odd, but I'm all right. And this room is... very..."
"Small." The older Jedi finished.
The room had the one single bed pushed against a wall with just enough space on the free side to walk by... if one walked sideways. A stride later was a compact bathroom, which was defiantly not designed
for someone of Qui-Gon's size. There was a chiller with enough room to hold a meal or two. It was flush against the wall at the foot of the bed and sat to a single cushioned chair.
"Well," Obi-Wan began, "We're only here for one night. It's clean and we've been in much worse."
It was clean. Not a spec of dirt anywhere to be found. It was also well lit with a large window on the opposite side of the bed. Qui-Gon let out a "hmm." The boy was correct. They had stayed in much worse. Several nights in the desert avoiding poisonous sand scorpions was one of those that came to mind.
"We can make this work, Master. I'll take the far side, you'll have room to stretch your legs and well... you are actually taller than the bed is long."
"But there are no sand scorpions. I will take that as a positive."
Obi-Wan laughed quietly, remembering all too well the memory that Qui-Gon indicated.
"As long as we can remove our boots, get a decent meal and get cleaned up. I still don't understand the strange feeling this place presents however. And the humidity seems more determined than ever. There are no air cooling units here at the Inn, I suppose."
"Master, I could ask Miss Ivy."
"Ivy."
"That's what I said."
"You said Miss Ivy. She doesn't like to be called Miss Ivy. Simply, Ivy."
"Master, she was keen on you. You charmed her. Sometimes I don't think you even know you do it. It just happens. She'd not have taken your republic credits otherwise."
"You simply have to know how to accept and work with people from all walks of life. If you look past the surface, most are no different than you
or I."
Obi-Wan didn't think that was quite true, but he understood the idea. He didn't have that natural flow with people that Qui-Gon had. That ease of knowing exactly what was needed in any given situation with any given person. Perhaps he'd never attain that level of user-friendliness. For now, he was grateful to serve under a man who could convince many with a well placed smile and gentle compliment.
—-
There came a knock at the door. The little gray woman carried two trays full of food. She balanced them as if they weighed nothing before setting them on the bed.
"Hopin' ya like meat. Bantha steak and some long beans. Drinks. Ale for ya," she handed Qui-Gon a frosted mug. "A non-ale for ya son. Bantha steak is best in town and dunna ya ever let any tell ya different!"
"It looks delicious, Ivy." Obi-Wan replied with a bow. "Your kindness is most welcome." There. Not charming like Qui-Gon, but kind and considerate. It's what he had.
"Ya a good boy, young one. Now, fed ya and housed ya. What's ya business here in Palir?"
Palir. Well, it was good to know the name of the town and that Ivy here was straightforward. Clearly she ran a clean ship and had no need for troublemakers taking up residence in her place. Qui-Gon had their story already worked out, he simply added the father-son aspect to it since Ivy had already taken it upon herself to make that assumption.
"My son and I are travelers. We are on a pilgrimage to seek peace and solitude." That would take care of any follow-up questions about their Jedi robes. "We've had a troubled life and wish to find a respite away from trial and tribulations. We are on our way to Farragem."
Farragem was a location well known for escaping the world. It wasn't their actual destination, but it flowed in the same directional path.
Ivy nodded. "Never been to Farragem. Heard about though. Beauty and quiet. Good place to escape. Now ya eat up and rest up. Farragem be a long ways out."
"We thank you again, Ivy." Qui-Gon closed the door behind the old woman and eyed the food. It certainly looked savory and more delectable than anything they'd eaten recently.
They sat. They ate. Obi-Wan practically drooled. "Oh my. Master. This might possibly be the best thing I've ever eaten. Think we can get a take-away meal tomorrow?"
He was being serious, but seeing Qui-Gon's disapproving frown, he dropped the suggestion. Probably the food wouldn't travel well anyway. Obi-Wan decided against pursing the idea.
They each took a turn cleaning up after the meal. They had no change of clothes so there was little use in showering. Qui-Gon didn't think he'd be able to actually fit in the spot that pretended to be a shower anyway. Obi-Wan set their robes on the chair and crawled to the far side of the bed, against the window. On his back, staring up at the ceiling, the thick mattress sagged as Qui-Gon settled in. The bed was comfortable but not large. The pair were pinned solidly together with Qui-Gon's shoulder laying on top of his apprentice's. They'd make it what they could... as indeed, they had been in much much worse.
"Master?" Obi-Wan asked in the darkness. "Do you think we might ask Ivy about the strange feelings here?"
"I think we get our rest and head east tomorrow, out of town."
"You're unsettled by it." Obi-Wan said in statement. He knew his teacher well enough by now that when something truly bothered Qui-Gon (as rare as that was), he either confronted it or put it behind him.
"Less unsettled, more puzzled. No one else seems bothered. Perhaps we should not be either, but there is no necessity to staying longer than required."
Obi-Wan let his eyes close as he sensed Qui-Gon slipping steadily into meditation. Always, the man meditated prior to sleep. Obi-Wan followed no such pattern, he was young and he craved sleep, so he slept.
With his years as a Jedi and being constantly on the move with Qui-Gon, he'd learned that you sleep when and where you could. Comfort was not all that important. All things considered, this current situation wasn't horrible. For now, he fell quiet, relaxing into the white noise that was complete silence. The walls of the Inn were considerably sound resistant. It was a good sleep.
Until it wasn't.
—-
Kenobi woke slowly. Groggily. His forehead pressed against Qui-Gon's side. The dreamlike sensation was gone, replaced by a heavy sluggishness.
"Ugh." Licking his lips and coughing a dry throat, Obi-Wan tried to blink the unwelcome sensations away. He pushed a few inches from Qui-Gon, the wall being directly behind him. Space limited, which didn't matter much because he couldn't physically move. There was an invisible weight on him, pressing him downward.
Maybe it will pass if I just lay here quietly for a moment. Was his first thought.
Moments slugged by. It didn't pass.
"Master." Came a lethargic attempt to get Qui-Gon's attention.
Oddly enough, the older Jedi seemed to be slumbering in a completely peaceful state. Obi-Wan sensed nothing unusual on their bond. Qui-Gon's breaths were slow and deep. Contented.
Just a dream then. A very…strange… dream.
Obi-Wan tried to move again. No go. Even thinking was becoming an impenetrable obstacle. It was paralyzing. And still Qui-Gon had not moved a muscle.
Okay, I'll try and go back to sleep. Morning will come and everything will be fine.
Sleep did come. Restless, but there. He woke to the familiar voice of his teacher. Qui-Gon was sitting on the edge of the bed, apparently ready to depart. He didn't look anything like Obi-Wan felt.
"Obi-Wan, wake up. We need to be on our way." The man called out.
The boy's head lolled back and forth on the pillow as he tried to obey the instruction. Not a single part of him cooperated. That horrible heavy weighty feeling was still there. Still pressing hard on him.
"Master. You don't… feel that?"
"Feel what?"
"Sluggish... unable to move?"
"I feel normal, Padawan. Are you ill?"
Qui-Gon reached a hand to feel his apprentice's temple for fever. Nothing. His hand moved to his face, neck and forearm. Skin was normal, cool to the touch.
"Not sick, Master. C-can't move. Like m's-stuck."
He reached a hand out. Qui-Gon grabbed it, and in slow motion, Obi-Wan's legs moved just far enough to get him to the edge of the cushion. Vertical was impossible without assistance from Qui-Gon, and that choking dryness had settled in his throat again.
With a flick of the hand, Qui-Gon had a cup of water in grasp holding it to the boy's lips. "Drink. Your voice sounds pained. You must be ill."
The water was cool and refreshing. It helped the dryness of his throat, but not the overall feeling.
"S-something is wrong here. When we arrived it was humid and dream-like and now I'm in… slow motion. Master, I... I can't function. Could it be Ivy?"
Qui-Gon shook his head, a hand still on the boy to hold him upright. "I read nothing suspicious from her. It's possible she could be concealing, but I don't see it. She may be able to offer some idea of what is happening to you. Here." He relaxed his hand and let his apprentice slowly sink back to the mattress, lying on his side. "Stay put. I'll see if I can find her."
—-
After a bit, in his slogging mind, Obi-Wan wondered at the length of time Qui-Gon had been gone. Seemed like hours or days. The room around him was clouded and dense, like he could cut the air with a saber and pick up the piece he'd carved out. Several times, he'd tried and failed to lift his head or find his comlink, only to realize he'd not actually moved at all. There was a numbness surrounding him, a sensation he'd never experienced before.
Then there were voices. Long hair. A man. Familiar. Qui-Gon. Yes, he was Qui-Gon. And the tiny woman was with him. Ivy. Ivy was her name. She would help make sense of it all, right?
"Obi-Wan!" The sharp voice caught him by surprise and his eyes that had been closed snapped open.
Words were lethargic, filled with confusion. "Feels... funny... M'sr. S-slow. Can't m-move."
"Ya, he's got the virus."
The what? Obi-Wan said to himself, then hushed his inner foggy thoughts in order to listen.
"The virus? Ivy, what do you mean?" Qui-Gon asked.
"Hot season. Virus comes round. If ya not been in Palir a year prior, ya gonna get the virus - the Fog. Maybe. Keeps ya feelin' bad for a time. Like ya canna stand and ya canna think. It's gettin' the young ones more. Ya son, prime target. Ya feelin' bad when ya checked in?"
Qui-Gon nodded, at least it looked like a nod, sort of, Obi-Wan decided. It was all in disorienting this dragging slow motion, but his head had moved up and down.
"Somewhat, but we didn't think much of it. Is it dangerous?"
"Mostly, nah. But ya not leavin' town like ya thought. Boy canna walk, hardly move. Few days to clear. I keep the room saved for ya. Half cost for ya troubles. Will bring ya son bowl'a pottage to help the headachin'."
Headache, Obi-Wan heard. But there was no headache, just horribly thick fog and weight pressing into him. He tried to speak the thought. "Head is foggy, slow... not ache."
"Ah, not yet. Will come. Major pain. Ain't gonna wanna get out of bed even if ya could."
Obi-Wan's eyes blinked hard, he wanted to sit up again, to fight whatever this was. He wanted… needed to be a Jedi, not let a small town illness take him down. Ivy suggested otherwise.
"Ya stay down, boy. Betta all around. Canna help pain, but ya get up, room spins and ya spittin' up. Back with pottage soon. Headachin' by then."
The little woman scurried out as Obi-Wan looked up at Qui-Gon, worry and confusion etched on his face. Qui-Gon patted his arm.
"I know. I don't think our Jedi abilities have much power in curtailing whatever this virus is. At least not once it's taken hold. I feel a little of it, but nothing too severe. We will get you through the next few days and then be on our way. Until then, do as Ivy says and stay down. Can't have you vomiting all over the room and messing up her perfectly clean Inn."
Obi-Wan frowned at the slight humor, unable to fight through the dense fog in his head. That same head that started aching - just as Ivy said - before she returned with the pottage. Her speciality, a vegetable soup type concoction. She claimed it would help some, but Qui-Gon figured it was more symbolic than anything. One of those old recipes passed down through the ages said to do this and that, but really more of a comfort food.
Nevertheless, Qui-Gon accepted it and watched her be on her way.
"You want to try this?" He asked his apprentice. Obi-Wan buried his face in a pillow, the ache part of the headache rapidly encroaching.
Two hours later, he was doing his best to not roll in agony as his head felt ready to explode. Ivy said he pain would be 'major'. She hadn't been stretching the truth. The extra blankets she had brought in curled around his now fetal and clenched body. They were warm and soft, but did nothing to curtail the lightening bolts shooting through his head, down his neck and into his back. Moans escaped followed soon by cries each time the sensations pulsed through him. Hours in and already debilitated.
Every so often there were quiet periods. Obi-Wan didn't know if the pain was less or if he was becoming desensitized to it. Didn't matter. The agony returned with force each time after.
Qui-Gon tried unsuccessfully to help the boy. The Force offering nothing in the way of comfort. All he could do was sit next to him on the bed and provide the comfort of contact. Someone familiar. Obi-Wan responded by leaning into the touch and trying to not cry out when the fire imploded in his head. Even that fight was futile. Before long he was curled up, plastered to his master's side, sobbing quietly and knowing without a doubt that the end of this hell would never come.
—-
Two days of the same followed. Qui-Gon occasionally forced Obi-Wan off the bed and into the bathroom. Last thing needed was for him to soil Miss Ivy's sparkle clean room. To his credit, Obi-Wan only vomited when he stood. Though, it did happen every single time that he stood. Thankfully, Qui-Gon was at least able to aim him in the general direction of the commode. Other business done, a cool cloth to clean his face after and it was back to bed.
"Master..." The weakest of protests at movement. Even in his current state, Obi-Wan knew he was a disaster when his only option of communication was to whine. But even just slurring out that one word was excruciating. The heaviness slammed into him once more as he fell fast to the bed. Qui-Gon caught him to softly lower him down and fold the blankets around his shivering body. No fever, but the outlet of pain had him shaking violently for hours.
"If the usual timeline for the virus holds, Ivy says tomorrow should start to get better. You can do this, Obi-Wan."
"Master..."
Qui-Gon squeezed the boy's hand as he closed his own eyes; seeking support and strength from the Force. Certainly, his student had been through painful experiences before. They both had, more than they cared to acknowledge.
But this… this was different. Unseen. Uncertain. And there was nothing to ease the discomfort even for a moment. It was disconcerting and unnerving to see his young charge in such agony. Qui-Gon Jinn didn't hate many things, it was not part of his true self, not part of who he was. But he hated this, he hated seeing Obi-Wan in such a condition and without being able help in any meaningful way.
"It hurts, Padawan, I know. But there is an end. You are extraordinarily strong when you need to be. I've seen it. What's inside you. You'll get there."
"C-can't..."
"You can."
Obi-Wan turned his palm in the hand that Qui-Gon held and clamped hard as the next bolt of pain rocketed through his head. He let out an anguished scream and clutched Qui-Gon until the man's fingers changed color. The older Jedi eased his own discomfort within the Force rather than telling his prone apprentice to release the physical pressure. The last thing Obi-Wan needed was to be chastised for reaching out for comfort.
The boy whimpered, his body shaking. Next to him, Qui-Gon silently wishing that the exhaustion of it all would will him to sleep. He'd tried and failed several times to move Obi-Wan into a Force rest, but the intensity of the pain was far too much. Waiting it out remained their only option.
The grip of their hands stayed tight. Qui-Gon gave up on trying to convince Obi-Wan of his own strength. The boy was too far lost in his suffering to comprehend. Instead he offered words of simple comfort. Something he'd attempted during the infancy phase of the master-apprentice relationship with his former Padawan, Xanatos. Thinking it might have aided the darkness he felt within the boy at the time. Hoping
to counter it with friendship rather than authority. Xanatos had failed
to respond to the words and actions. Seeing it as weakness. Need. Desperation.
Obi-Wan though, he'd always been receptive to it, even craving at times. It did nothing to lessen Kenobi's internal strength, he'd simply thrived off actions that helped rather than hurt. Actions that comforted rather than instructed. Obi-Wan was so much the opposite of Xanatos, it occasionally threw Qui-Gon off balance. Expecting the old evil that was Xanatos and receiving the decency and good intentions that was Obi-Wan.
Now was not the time to think of that old apprentice. The one who had chosen his dark hate-filled life. Qui-Gon refocused on what Obi-Wan needed at the moment. And that was not someone telling him that eventually things would be fine. No, he simply needed the comfort and reassuring words of a friend.
With that, Qui-Gon stood, shed his Jedi robe and draped it over his apprentice. Already covered in blankets, the warmth wouldn't matter much, but the gesture would. Obi-Wan would sense it. Despite the pain, he was still conscious of their bond.
Then the elder Jedi returned to his sitting position on the bed, reached over and pulled Obi-Wan upright to lean heavy against his side. Qui-Gon set an arm around the boy's shoulders so that his hand lay across his chest. From there, Obi-Wan pushed himself into the safe space created, lying plastered to Qui-Gon's rib cage. Somehow - and perhaps it was only in his imagination - the pain lessened just enough.
—-
An hour later and for the first time in two days, he slept. It wasn't restful and there was little depth to it, but it qualified as sleep. Obi-Wan didn't make any effort to move from that position for the next ten hours. In the meantime, Qui-Gon sent his gratefulness into the Force for allowing him to keep at bay any necessary bodily functions. A few hours of discomfort for the well being of his apprentice would be worth it.
At some point, even he managed a brief period of sleep.
It wasn't until Miss Ivy knocked on the door that their attention was on anything but each other.
"Come." Qui-Gon said, allowing her entrance.
The stocky little gray woman waddled in with a tray full of food, her eyes smiling at the pair. "Pottage and sandwich. Ya son gonna start feelin' betta today. Swear it. Feel the air?"
Qui-Gon took a deep breath, prepared for the humid, sluggish air that had greeted them upon arrival days ago. There was none of that. No, today the air whispering in through the open window was clear and crisp and wonderful.
"I don't understand." The Jedi admitted.
"Virus. Funny thing. Comes in the hot season. Lasts short time. Ya timin' was bad, ya know. For ya son. He be betta today. Already skin be less pale. Less eye clinch. Ya takin' good care of him. Some young ones come in, not so much luck. Dealin' on their own. Ya son, got a good folk lookin' after him."
It was all still completely strange how this virus worked, but the Jedi wasn't here to question the yearly happenings of the locals and accepted Ivy's words as complete truth.
Obi-Wan stirred next to him, trying to wake.
"Shh, Padawan. Stay put. It's all right."
Ivy smiled. Her eyes shining with joy. She'd taken a liking to this big man and his son.
"Ya good people. Stay long as need. Less fee I charge ya. Ya good people."
"Ivy, you are a savior. Thank you."
Qui-Gon offered nothing more in the way of repayment or future help. Ivy would not accept it and would have no part in hearing of it. She too was good people.
After she left the room, Obi-Wan moved again, lifting an arm. No weight. No sluggishness. Those feelings had vanished as if they were never there.
"Master?" He asked.
"The virus is past, Padawan. You will begin to feel better. The air is clear again. Breath it in slow. I want you resting longer. The pain you felt was troubling. We cannot travel until you regain strength. There's no hurry."
The air did feel good. And so different from when they'd first arrived. Obi-Wan sucked in a few deep breaths. Already he could feel the changes in his body. His headache was still there, but several times less agonizing than the last days. Movements were still slow, but it was as Qui-Gon said - exhaustion rather than inability. All of that pain, it had debilitated him and even with the aid of Force, it would take a day or so to regain what was lost.
"Comfortable." The boy said to Qui-Gon.
"I see that."
"Master, I felt... I felt Xanatos in your thoughts. My mind was battered all over the place, but in between, I sensed him. Those thoughts hurt you."
"They did. They still do. You and I have discussed him since his death."
"Master, I will never be him. Never. I promise."
Qui-Gon tightened his arm around the boy's shoulders. "I know you won't. You are light to his dark. I've known that for a long time. That he still intrudes on my mind at times, I cannot seem to avoid it."
"Maybe not such a bad thing?"
"To remember the bad?"
"Well, more to appreciate the good."
The older Jedi could sense the smile in Obi-Wan's voice.
"Oh, so you think you're that good, yes?" Qui-Gon chided.
Obi-Wan shrugged in his grasp. "On occasion. Maybe. When I'm not disobeying an order, questioning your decisions or asking when our next meal is."
"Someone," Qui-Gon chuckled softly, "Is starting to feel better. I hear a little snark in that voice."
"A little."
"I'm glad for both - the feeling better and the snark. I worried about you, Obi-Wan. It's never an enjoyable experience seeing those close to you in pain."
"Thank you for looking after me, Master. But… ah, you may need to look after yourself now?"
Silence for a moment as Qui-Gon caught on. Yes. He did indeed need to look after himself. He'd held certain things in for far too long and the Force was only so powerful.
"I do think you are correct, Obi-Wan. If you will excuse me. Perhaps I'll try to squeeze into the galaxy's tiniest shower."
With careful gesture, the big man moved his arm off his apprentice, shaking out the numbness as he stood. The room was still horribly small for someone of his stature, but careful steps were the key.
Obi-Wan wanted no part of the vertical world just yet, so he scooted down to lay flat and tucked himself into the bed full of blankets. It was only then that he noticed the large brown Jedi robe mixed in. Flashbacks of their beginnings entered his mind. How badly he and Qui-Gon began their teacher-student training relationship. The mistakes each made. The differences and misunderstanding and wrong emotions that's almost broke them. Qui-Gon's reluctance to trust and accept him. Obi-Wan's reluctance to let his true self be understood.
And now, here. He'd put his life in his master's hands when he was unable to function enough to even lift his head. In return, his master had looked after him, comforted him.
His fingers fiddled with the robe. Thinking.
How far they'd come. How far they still had to go. It made Obi-Wan smile past the milder blast of pain currently washing through his head. Yes, definitely a lesser pain. This he could handle.
The exhaustion from the last two days on the other hand... not so much. Fingers wrapped around brown cloth and intertwined into the soft blankets, the young Jedi closed his eyes to sleep. Too far gone to notice a familiar calloused hand pressed to his temple, helping to push him there.
Finally, the Force able to offer it's tender touch.
"Sleep, Padawan."
—-
Two days later, Miss Ivy greeted them for checkout. Obi-Wan feeling mostly himself, though still more tired than normal. Nevertheless, they were well enough to travel.
"Ya not goin' to Farragem. Ya want spaceport, ya go due west. Day's travel. Ya... son be all right. The fog for ya both, it be clearin' now."
She knew they were not going to Farragem and the hesitation before the word 'son' was also telling. Then there was her mention of the fog clearing for them both. She'd aimed that mostly in Qui-Gon's direction. For
Obi-Wan, the fog was the virus. For Qui-Gon, perhaps it was that stubbornness he possessed in regards to truly committing his entire self to Obi-Wan as both a Jedi and as family.
Qui-Gon offered no argument. "No, we are not going to Farragem. And Obi-Wan is not my son."
"Nah. Ya Jedi. I know. Know ya Jedi. Ya dress. Ya ways. But ya wrong about the boy. The boy is ya son, maybe ya jus' dunna feel it yet. I see. I know. You will. Is what I say, the fog. Is gone now."
Again, aimed at him. This wasn't the first time that wisdom and wise had come from such a compact package. Qui-Gon thought of Yoda. Truly the only member of the Council that encouraged his pairing with Obi-Wan in the beginning. The only one to believe in it, and that included himself. Ivy reminded him of Yoda. Small in stature and so much more than anyone figured her to be. Not only did she hold that wisdom, but she was knowledgeable and well versed about the galaxy around her, street smart regarding her world, and all seeing when it came to the truth of relationship of strangers that crossed into her life. It gave him a good feeling about the future that he and Obi-Wan would share. He was on the correct path this time, rather than the path he feared when dark memories of the past interfered with the light of the present.
"Thank you, Ivy. I understand. You are one of great wisdom. A friend. This town is fortunate to have you looking after them."
With a brief knowing nod, she bid farewell. In her own unique way. "Ya go on now. Due west." Straight and to the point.
Qui-Gon bowed with a inclination of his head. Obi-Wan followed, still fatigued but stronger as moments passed. He watched carefully, Qui-Gon's actions and words with Miss Ivy. Meaning behind every action. Behind every word. Then he remembered the man's actions with him these last few days.
With Ivy, it was natural. Years - decades - of training, learning, exposure and experience behind him. Instinct too. Qui-Gon was a negotiator and an ambassador. One of the best in the Jedi Order, even if his way often defied the Council and the Code.
As a teacher, he could struggle. Betrayal in his past interfering with trust in his present. It sometimes created a challenge to allow himself to get close to those he was actually close to. But it was there. That ability. Obi-Wan had seen it, he'd been a recipient of it. He knew now without an ounce of uncertainty, that he and Qui-Gon were destined to be a great Jedi team. A team that so many doubted from the beginning... Even the pair themselves.
With each mission, Obi-Wan learned more about his master. With each mission, they grew stronger together. With each mission, they became a more formidable team.
Yet, all of that meant nothing without them being able to reach out to the other for help or comfort when it was most desperately needed.
Life as a Jedi that was often a lonely one. Months on foreign worlds away from what was familiar. From what was safe. That they knew for certain they could rely on the other to be there through whatever, it made that lonely life much more bearable.
Standing at Qui-Gon's side, the fog of recent days and beginning years, finally clear, Obi-Wan had never looked more forward to his future than now.
END