Brink
By: Syntyche
Two: A Choice That Wasn't
"I think I'll just stay home, thanks."
The definitively spoken words were offered with a tilted grin, an easy humor in the eyes that were both blue and grey; and although right now they only cost him an amused answering smile, it wouldn't be long before the memory of this moment, these scattered handfuls of shared moments, would bring him to his knees as he remembered.
For now, though, with their dark future barely brushing the edges of their lives, Qui-Gon Jinn could allow a twitching smile to cross his expression as he folded his arms tightly against his broad chest and shook his head sternly, though he knew his former apprentice could see the happiness shining through his dour façade.
He didn't care. They could use a little levity after Naboo.
And he so enjoyed their mornings together, while Anakin was in class and Obi-Wan stopped by for morning tea. Had Qui-Gon known such gladness could exist for him, he would have spent his entire life waiting for now, for this time. His former Padawan, now a Knight. And Qui-Gon himself Master to the Chosen One, Anakin Skywalker, recently from Tatooine and now his Padawan here at the Temple on Coruscant.
"No," Qui-Gon responded resolutely, decision already made for the young man. He gestured Obi-Wan should precede him into the kitchen, and with a wry shake of his head Obi-Wan did so, immediately setting to collecting the familiar kettle and busying himself at the small stove.
"You're going," Qui-Gon added, voice muffled as he dug around in the cooler for the cream.
A serene lift to one corner of Obi-Wan Kenobi's full mouth; the half-smile that got him into trouble more often than not as it didn't always convey the impression the young man perhaps intended. Like now, for instance: Obi-Wan clearly was attempting a sort of innocence that was nowhere to be found in his current mood.
"I do not believe you have the authority over me any longer to demand anything, let alone that I accompany you into Force knows what horrors are waiting." Obi-Wan's smile grew, became teasing. "In case you've forgotten, gentle Master, I am a rather accomplished Knight now in my own right … " Obi-Wan breathed across his knuckles mock-proudly before brushing them lightly across the front of his chestnut robes, "with several successfully completed missions under my belt. Including our last," he added pointedly.
Qui-Gon's expression, by contrast, grew graver. "Barely. The Absarti were almost too much for you, little one. But I doubt there will be any "horrors" awaiting us on Etruria, Obi-Wan. It's a simple mission to check out reports of warpstone."
"Etruria?" Obi-Wan was guileless. "I was talking about going on leave with you and Anakin. Just having dinner with both of you is horror enough."
Qui-Gon's skeptical eyebrow nearly buried itself in his greying hairline. "Really? It doesn't stop you from coming by for dinner four or five times a week."
Obi-Wan shrugged easily. "I can't cook."
Qui-Gon nodded at the truth of Obi-Wan's statement: he really couldn't. "It's not that bad, is it?"
"Please," Obi-Wan retorted with a roll of his blue-grey eyes. "I'm the only human who can do it!" he mimicked Anakin easily in a high-pitched tone, having heard the young boy's boast a multitude of times. He carefully measured out cream for Qui-Gon's tea as he added snarkily, "'Obi-Wan can't podrace. Obi-Wan's not the Chosen One.'" The Knight grimaced, shaking his head but still grinning. "'Obi-Wan is not the only human who can do it!'"
"Oh, my gods," Qui-Gon shook his head in disbelief as he settled himself at the table. "Have you always been this bratty and I just didn't see it, or did this come with your promotion?" He gratefully accepted the steaming mug of tea Obi-Wan handed him, stirring it perfunctorily even though it was, of course, already perfect.
Obi-Wan laughed, gently pushing a spoon through his own tea as he lowered himself gracefully next to his old Master. "Oh, I think you saw it plenty of times, Qui-Gon. In fact, I'm certain of it."
"Really?" Qui-Gon arched an eyebrow, sifting through a memory that of course couldn't recall a single incident. "Name one time," he challenged, and when Obi-Wan's mouth immediately opened, clearly ready to rattle off a laundry list of occasions, Qui-Gon lifted a careless hand quickly, interjecting hastily, "At any rate, that's so far in the past it's barely worth thinking about."
"Really?" Obi-Wan returned, taking a careful sip of steaming liquid and sighing just a little at the simple pleasure. "I only had to go as far back as this morning." He tsked at Qui-Gon pityingly. "I think you might be getting old, Qui-Gon."
His comment surprised a bark of laughter from the Jedi Master. "You 'think'? That's an understatement, Obi-Wan, and you know it." Even as he spoke, he could feel it across his back now, the tight bands of age stiffening, slowing muscles that weren't as swift to react as they had once been - and having a new young, boisterous Padawan certainly wasn't helping.
Obi-Wan leaned over to rest a gentle hand on Qui-Gon's arm; humor now in reserve, the wisdom he had garnered over the years settling at the forefront, and Qui-Gon marveled at this young one, this Obi-Wan Kenobi - not the Chosen One, as Qui-Gon firmly believed his own Padawan, Anakin Skywalker, was - but still important, still indispensable to him.
"That's why this trip is so important," Qui-Gon murmured somberly, but still with a smile. "We're just taking a break. A short one, but a break nonetheless." Regret crowded his lined expression; a man looking back on his life and seeing his shortfalls, wanting only to correct them while there was still time.
"You and I never did that," he added softly. "We pushed and pushed until we were exhausted." Even now he could see lines of exhaustion digging into Obi-Wan's young face and his heart twisted, knowing that the Knight was already on the same path that the Council had set Qui-Gon himself on many years ago - to go where sent whenever needed, whatever the cost to self.
"We were always stretched so thin … and there were times it affected our judgment," he finished in barely a whisper. The memory that never left him now was before his eyes, as it always was, never too far from right now. "You shouldn't have had to face that Sith alone."
Obi-Wan's hand was still on his arm, soothing to the tense muscles straining to keep a white-knuckled grip on his mug.
"Will you never let that go?" he wondered softly. "It is done with, Qui-Gon."
"No," Qui-Gon said shortly, resolve firm in his voice. "I should have been there to protect you. I should have been with you."
"You made a choice," Obi-Wan returned gently. "You chose to protect Anakin. There is no shame in that."
"I owe you more than that." There were unshed tears threatening to make his roughened voice waver, and Qui-Gon didn't like it one bit.
"You can't always be there. You know that. Especially now that I'm up for my own assignments," Obi-wan protested, a little uncomfortable by the new and unfamiliar Qui-Gon who was emotional and overly-worried for his safety.
Qui-Gon nodded at the truth of Obi-Wan's statement, but he didn't think the Knight realized that Qui-Gon often used his pull with the Council to get Obi-Wan assigned to his team any time his missions called for more assistance than he and Anakin could provide alone.
"I can so." Qui-Gon gave a small smile. "So, you'll come then?" he asked brightly, striving for a change of mood.
"Come on an assignment that's secretly a vacation with you and Anakin to the backwoods of Force knows where, where we'll be sleeping on the ground and eating food charred over a campfire?" Obi-Wan summed it up mildly, looking - whether for pretend or no - less than enthused about the idea.
"And looking for warpstone," Qui-Gon interjected cheerfully, turning the arm beneath Obi-Wan's hand so he could squeeze Obi-Wan's forearm happily. "Don't forget about that."
"Oh yes, warpstone." Obi-Wan rolled his eyes as he finished his tea and rose, stretching sore muscles. He'd only been freed from the Healer's Wing a few days before; Qui-Gon had been right: the Absarti almost had been too much for him to handle alone. "Made entirely from dark energy, blocks the Light. Yes, we wouldn't want to forget that."
Qui-Gon nodded in agreeable satisfaction. "So glad you can come."
Obi-Wan cast him the longsuffering look of the clearly aggrieved, the downtrodden, the put upon. It was a look he had perfected through much practice during his apprenticeship to the man next to him.
"And my purpose in joining you is to make up for 'time lost', as it were?"
"Exactly," Qui-Gon nodded, the warm light of sincerity shining in his eyes - a look that he had perfected over the years.
"A good old 'get-to-know-you' kind of time?" Obi-Wan leaned back against the counter, folding his arms over his chest, holding on to his humor while quietly wishing that his old Master would just forgive himself and stop fussing over him.
"Mmhm," Qui-Gon agreed. "Just so."
"And not, say, to chase after Anakin while you relax?" Obi-Wan asked suspiciously, a furrow etching deep into his brow.
Qui-Gon spread his arms innocently, still achingly sincere. "Well, he does have a lot of energy, Obi-Wan… " The final twist of the metaphorical blade: "As much as you had when you were that age, and I used to chase you around entire planets without complaining."
"Are you blackmailing me?" Obi-Wan questioned disbelievingly, one light eyebrow quirked as he shook his head ruefully. "You're absolutely shameless, Master, I hope you know that."
It was in these small moments, when Anakin mastered a new skill he had been practicing relentlessly, or - like now - when Obi-Wan slipped into old habits and called him "Master" one more time, that Qui-Gon Jinn found he was content, that he could look back on his life and realize that he had done all he could, and that he had done the best he could; and if he joined the Force this very day he would have no reason to mourn a life unlived, no lasting compunction to pull him back.
Except that one tiny regret. That one time he should have been there.
"Shameless, or correct, little one?" he asked innocently, trying to hide the obvious way his eyes tracked to the deeply furrowed scar that carved across Obi-Wan's neck and disappeared beneath his tunic that wouldn't let him forget that he hadn't been there.
Obi-Wan laughed as he turned to the sink to rinse his empty mug before reaching for Qui-Gon's and repeating the process. "Shameless," he clarified.
Qui-Gon's chuckle slipped past the innocence he'd failed at attempting to portray as he too rose, picking up a datapad from the table and handing it to Obi-Wan. "Here's what you'll need to know; I'll expect you packed and ready to go by sunrise tomorrow. And I've already cleared it with the Council."
Obi-Wan frowned, shaking his head resignedly. "I should be irritated that you still manipulate my life this way, but I know it's just how you show you care," he murmured just a little too sweetly.
Qui-Gon tousled Obi-Wan's ginger hair warmly; it was short still, barely having a chance to grow out from the cropped cut he'd worn as a senior Padawan. Obi-Wan smiled, leaning into the touch with a small sigh of appreciation. Obi-Wan had always been such a tactile person; it was to the young man's detriment, perhaps, that he'd been drafted into an Order that demanded showing as little emotion as possible. Even Qui-Gon could, in discomfort, admit that he had used Obi-Wan's weakness against him many times in the past during the young man's apprenticeship: a hand on the shoulder withheld, a gentle hug not given, to show his displeasure.
But things were different now. He was different. He had learned late, yes, but their final mission together before Obi-Wan's Knighting had opened his eyes. He had chosen poorly, and they had all, in one way or another, paid for it. Qui-Gon was determined not to let it happen again.
His hand dropped from Obi-Wan's hair to the back of the Jedi's neck and he pulled the young man in for a quick, tight hug.
"Please come," he said simply.
Obi-Wan, still not used to the new, more demonstrative Qui-Gon Jinn, nodded slowly.
"Of course I will," he replied.
