Pairing: Q/O
Rating: R
Category: POV, Angst
Archive: Master and Apprentice--anyone else ask please
Summary: Obi-Wan writes down his personal thoughts in a journal.
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, much less these fine characters--although I own a couple of action figures of them, does that count? Probably not. Oh well, I refuse to make any money off them in any event, so please don't sue me.
Notes: This was originally for a zine, but I've decided to just post it.
Warnings: This story follows TPM canon.


~~~

From the Journal of Obi-Wan Kenobi
by Nicole D'Annais
Copyright 2001


Naboo. A peaceful world, and a beautiful one judging by the pictures I've seen. Not a place the Jedi expect to be sent. We spend most of our time in parts of the galaxy that are known for trouble, not places known for peace.

When I first became a padawan, the journal was my least favorite part. "Helps you to face yourself, it does," Master Yoda said. Precisely why I would have preferred not to keep it.

But he was right, as usual. The journal has helped me over the years; this private one has helped even more than the official journal. Here I can admit things I would not say out loud. Here I can disclose the sense of wrongness I feel about this mission. I dare not bring it up to my Master. Not yet.

If I mentioned it now, Qui-Gon would say I was spending too much time on the future and not enough time on the present. A warning does no good if it is not listened to, much less heeded. So I will wait. If I still feel it when we land, maybe I will mention it then. But not before.

I must be patient. My Master would be amused if he knew it took my attempts to hit him with my ideas at the right moment to teach me patience. Amused, but probably not surprised. He's usually at least one step ahead of me--one of the many qualities I admire about him.

Which makes me wonder why he hasn't sensed this yet. Am I wrong? I realize there are things I still have to learn about the Force--could I be reading this feeling incorrectly?

The captain has just informed us we are about to enter orbit around Naboo. I must join my Master on the bridge and try to reason out this feeling without the luxury of this journal to help me.

I hope I am wrong. We shall know soon.

***

"Trust your feelings." How often have I heard those words? So often I don't need my Master around to be able to hear him. I should have trusted my feelings. There is something going on with the Trade Federation blockade of Naboo, and it has nothing to do with taxation of trade routes.

But what could it be? The Federation has a strong presence, but personally, they are cowards. It goes against their nature to take such an aggressive stance. Naboo's lack of any real armed forces, combined with their location within the Republic makes them an easy target, but it also makes them relatively unimportant. On the surface, there is very little for the Federation to gain by this action.

One thing is certain--any move the Federation makes is for profit. There must be an opportunity for profit here that isn't readily apparent. But what could it be?

And then there's the other problem. Jar Jar Binks. Qui-Gon and I had to fight our way off of the Federation's battleship. We stowed away on different landing craft to get down to the planet's surface, and when we met up again on Naboo, he had found this creature. Or perhaps the creature found him. I'm still not clear on that. Whatever the case, he has become a liability.

My Master is a kind and wise man. He sympathizes greatly with 'lost causes'. Sometimes he sympathizes a little too much. As I write this, he is attempting to free Jar Jar from a tangle of rather strong vines that have wrapped themselves intricately around the creature's leg. Precious moments are being wasted, and we must get to Theed as soon as possible.

Sometimes I think he loses sight of the mission at hand because of his vision of being the voice of the downtrodden. Then again, sometimes he proves me wrong. *Most* of the time he proves me wrong. And on occasion my feelings for him can cloud my judgment. So I will not question him.

Or at least, I will *try* not to question him. Master Yoda may say, "There is no try," but he has had a few more centuries to perfect his abilities than I have.

Finally Jar Jar is free of the vines. I just hope he does not tangle us up further.

***

I hardly know where to begin. Jar Jar Binks led us to his home--or at least, it was his home, until he was banished. His people, the Gunguns, were of little help, but my Master did persuade them to give us a transport. And Jar Jar. The transport, at least, was helpful.

After a harrowing trip through the Naboo planet core, we arrived in Theed just in time to see the Queen and her entourage being escorted to camps. In order to get her safely away we had to fight two separate contingents of droid regiments.

Finally we made it off the planet, only to have the shields on the ship shot out. We would have been destroyed if not for one droid, R2-D2, who managed to survive the Federation attack and repair our shields. Unfortunately, he can't do anything to help the leaking hyperdrive, so instead of speeding off to Coruscant, we are making a detour to Tatooine.

Panaka was not happy with Tatooine as a destination, but I recognized the look on my Master's face when he announced the decision to go there, and I have no doubt that is where we will soon be. Not Panaka, not even the Queen herself will be able to convince Qui-Gon otherwise.

But it will be interesting to watch them try.

***

The Queen agreed with our decision to go to Tatooine, not that she had much choice. I'm not sure she trusts us completely, however. I just saw Panaka hurrying after my Master, Jar Jar and the R2 unit with one of the Queen's handmaidens--the outspoken one, Padme. Something tells me my Master is about to get a lesson in royal commands.

I hope he lets her go with him. She seems to have some kind of control over the Queen, and both Qui-Gon and I agreed that no messages should be sent. If that is to happen, I need to have as much authority on this ship as possible. I have a feeling it will be much easier without Padme on board.

There is more at stake now than just getting to Coruscant. The feeling I had as we waited to land in Naboo's orbit has increased. My Master is now feeling it as well--he said as much before he left. There is a darkness prevalent in the Force, along with something else. A strong pull unlike any other I have felt. A pull with no discernible light or darkness to it. Only strength.

***

Is there anything of value on board? I had to keep myself from laughing into the commlink when my master asked the question. I asked the Queen, but I already knew the answer. No one on Naboo had been prepared for an invasion; the Queen certainly hadn't been prepared to escape her own planet. There was nothing on board worth any credits.

My master's problems only increased my worry. The dark presence in the Force continued to grow stronger, as if it were closing in on us. I hope that isn't the case, but whether it is or not, we need to be off this planet. Soon.

***

Considering the lateness of the hour by the time my Master reported in to the ship, I wasn't sure what to expect, but I don't think anything could have prepared me for what happened. It was a quick exchange. A blood sample, probably from this boy Master spoke of earlier, a midi-chlorian count so high I recalibrated the machine three times before I believed it, and in response to my question about the meaning, nothing more than a cryptic, "I'm not sure." What am I supposed to make of that?

I miss having my master here. We are rarely separated, at least not to this degree. In fact, we have spent most every day together since the mission on Bandomeer where he took me on as his apprentice. Even though I know we will soon be separated when I become a knight, I find it difficult to believe. I have been by his side for half my life, and would like nothing more than to remain there. And I could, too. If he would only loosen up his tight restraints on his own emotions just a little.

No, I must focus on my mission, not on my own emotions. Could the boy be the presence I detected on the planet? If so, why is there no sense of light or dark? Because he hasn't been trained? Or because he's hiding it? And if he's hiding it, wouldn't it likely be because he is drawing on the dark side of the Force? There would be no reason to hide it unless that was the case.

One of the first lessons we were taught was never to cross-examine a Jedi Master. Another one of the first lessons we were taught is to constantly cross-examine ourselves.

Just once, I wish it could be the other way around.

***

I think the suns have finally gotten to Qui-Gon. He plans to enter the young boy into a pod race to gain the parts we need to repair the ship. Nothing against Tatooine, it's very...warm, but I'm sure I would not want to be stuck here for a long period of time. It's a nice place to hide, but I wouldn't want to live here. And that just might happen if this plan doesn't work.

A young boy, one Qui-Gon only just met. He didn't even trust me for weeks when I was 13, yet he trusts this boy of only 9 immediately. I suppose I could look at this as a success on my part--he obviously wasn't disappointed when he finally put his trust in me, or he wouldn't trust this boy so readily. I could look at it that way, if I choose.

Even so, I don't like it. He sees something in the boy, and any creature he sees something in becomes a potential project. We're already saddled with Jar Jar, assuming that one hasn't managed to get lost or killed in Mos Espa. I don't care how high the boy's midi-chlorian count is; we don't need any more projects distracting us from the mission at hand. Too much is at stake.

***

I find myself restless. The Boonta race should be taking place right now, and as I wait for word of the results, I am almost glad I'm not there. Waiting here is bad enough, actually watching would be torture.

One small boy holds our fate in his hands. Not just our fate, but the fate of a planet. If we stay here much longer, we will be destroyed. I am sure of it. Darkness is closing in around us like a cloak, and the avenue of escape continues to narrow.

How long does a pod race take, anyway?

***

They won. I can scarcely believe it. Qui-Gon is on his way back with the parts, and with Jar Jar, Padme and the droid. Hopefully that is all he is bringing back. If we pick up any more passengers we're going to run out of places to sleep.

***

I knew it. My master came back, dropped off the parts, and went back to town to pick up the boy. I have installed the new hyperdrive and am waiting for them to return so we can take off. I hope they hurry. I don't think we have much time.

***

As I look back over my last entries, I realize how optimistic I was. I worried about too many passengers and a nagging sense of danger. The reality is more than I ever would have imagined.

A Sith. Neither of us have said the word out loud; it's not something that's supposed to exist. The Sith live in legend only. And perhaps this is only a former Jedi who turned, not a true Sith.

I wish I believed that. I wish my Master did as well.

So many things are happening that are impossible to believe, even to one raised to believe anything is possible. A child with a midi-chlorian count higher than any being in existence. A member of an extinct sect fighting my master on the dunes of Tatooine.

My master nearly being bested and dying.

Of the many troubling events of the day, it is the last that disturbs me the most. I could handle nearly anything the Force chooses to place in my path. Except for Qui-Gon's death.

Oh I know that I would live on. But there is living, and then there is living. The regrets I would be living with would very likely eat me alive one day.

Perhaps I'm being a bit melodramatic. It's not as if there would be outward signs. But inside...if there is any one thing I would regret were either of us to die today, it would be that I had hidden my feelings for him. I pushed them deep inside my mind, where I could think on them when I was alone without projecting to the every Force sensitive being in whatever location I happened to be in. Most importantly, I tried to keep the feelings from my surface thoughts, worried that I would scare my master with their intensity. He knew how I felt; he did not need to know how much. Not then.

I always planned to discuss it with him after my knighting--planned a little too hard, I think. I have little doubt what his response will be; he cannot shield from me that well, not now. But I have held out for that moment, following my knighting ceremony, in our own rooms in the Temple. The entire scene has been a fixture in my mind for more years than I care to think about.

Today has opened my eyes, and now I must open much more. I refuse to harbor pessimistic thoughts; however, I can no longer ignore the danger closing in. I witnessed evidence of what it can do today. Not only to the Republic, but to my chance with Qui-Gon.

He has been resting for several hours, so he should be awake soon. The time for waiting is over. I must speak to him.

***

I've stared at this damned reader for an eternity, and I can't think of how to start. How do you describe something that changed your life? I don't know how to put it into words.

I went to Qui-Gon, determined to tell him how I felt. The lights were still on low when I entered his room, but I could still see him lying there, asleep. Despite my determination, I walked soundlessly to him and sat on the edge of the bed. He was so peaceful. The lines on his face that had been more pronounced than ever after the fight had smoothed out, and there was almost no sign of tension on his brow save a few little wrinkles from too many years of wearing the Jedi demeanor.

My hand moved before I even thought, tracing the air just above his forehead, down his nose, hovering over his lips. I could feel his breath, soft and warm, ghosting over my fingertips, and I hesitated, wondering if I should just leave, let him sleep, and talk to him later. Why disturb such peace?

Then his eyes opened. Sleepily at first, but awakening in a hurry as he realized I was sitting over him, that my fingers were nearly touching his mouth. "Master...."

"Shhh...." In that moment, I saw it in his eyes. I didn't have to say a word; he already knew. Something that shouldn't have surprised me, but it did. If he'd known, then why had he held back? Waiting for me to make the first move? Or waiting for the right time? I'm still not sure. But then he reached out and took my fingers between his lips, gliding his tongue across them, and I didn't bother to think about it again.

So often I've dreamed of our first time together. In my perfect world it was at home, with candles and dinner and slow loveplay leading up to a joining beyond my wildest dreams. But this...this was so much beyond anything my wildest dreams could have imagined. At the feel of his tongue on my fingers, I moaned, and that was the end of anything slow. We couldn't get clothes off fast enough, couldn't join fast enough. I've performed high-speed katas that were slower than the pace of my hips moving against him as we joined together.

As I lay in his arms in the aftermath, I realized that despite our location, I was at home. With him. I shall never forget the feel of the fine linen sheets--there are definite benefits to being on a royal transport as opposed to in a Jedi temple--or the even finer, silkier feel of his skin against mine. I moved so much to revel in that feeling that he finally asked me to stop squirming. So I just buried my nose in the crook of his neck and filled my head with his scent and went to sleep, to wake up to the most wonderful sight in the world--his head on the pillow next to mine.

Now I sound like a lovesick fool. Well, perhaps the lovesick part is not far from the truth. But I am trying not to be a fool. This will not be easy. And, as before, I sense danger ahead. These things are not forgotten.

But for the moment, they don't seem nearly as important. We have two weeks yet before we reach Coruscant. And I will enjoy every moment I can get in that time, and store them away for whatever the future brings.

Like my master says, "Live in the moment."

***

Normally I hate long space journeys. Weeks of being cramped with others on a small ship, with no sun, or grass, or trees are trying at best. In this case, it is also weeks with no outside communication. Any attempt to communicate with the outside world, and we could be discovered by the Queen's enemies.

This journey could last forever, and I would not be sorry. It is like an alternate universe where there is time to explore options. And explore feelings.

Since leaving Tatooine a week ago, Qui-Gon and I have spent our days attending to various duties. We discuss strategy with Panaka, the Queen, and her handmaidens. We mediate the kinds of arguments that naturally arise when beings are stuck together in a small amount of space. Despite the solitude of our group, our days are surprisingly full.

But the nights...those are what I live the days for.

I try not to let it distract me from my work, and most of the time I succeed. If the change in our relationship were to affect duty, I know that my master would rethink the new closeness between us. I also know that he would not have allowed this new stage to begin if he did not trust my ability to keep the two separate.

Nevertheless, my mind does occasionally drift during the day, and when it does, I find myself longing for the night. For the moment when we shut the door of our room and he takes me in his arms, and the entire galaxy disappears to nothingness.

Speaking of which, I can sense him heading for our room now, and the ship has just cycled down for night.

The day is survived.

***

Only a few days remain until we reach the capital city. I look forward to it, and yet I dread it at the same time. Things will change when we reach the Temple. I believe some of our shipmates are aware of the relationship between my master and myself, though whether they realize it began here, I don't know. Panaka, I think, senses something. And the handmaiden, Padme (if, indeed, that is who she truly is)...I'm certain she knows. She hasn't said a word, it's just the smile she gives us when she sees us together.

We haven't exactly been open about our feelings, but we have not hidden them either. At the temple, however...this type of relationship is not forbidden. It is not encouraged either. There are times when I feel like my love for Qui-Gon is too great to contain inside of myself. I can sense there are times he feels that way as well. How are we supposed to act as if nothing has changed? It will be difficult. But nothing about being a Jedi is ever that easy. We will manage.

Then, of course, there's the boy. Qui-Gon's chosen one--chosen with a great deal less prodding than it took him to choose me, I might add. Not that I doubt my place in his life or his heart any longer. Still, I must admit, if only here, that it rankles. It is clear that the boy has more power in the Force than anyone I've ever encountered. It is also clear, at least to me, that danger surrounds him. His temper is quick to surface, and his moods change faster than the weather on Hrashla.

Qui-Gon is quick to remind me that my temper was just as quick as Anakin's, and at a greater age. I do remember being quick to anger at injustice, and I doubt that Melida/Daan can ever be completely wiped from either of our minds. Still, there is something far more dangerous in the boy's mercurial moods. He does not have the grounding in the Jedi teachings that I had nearly from birth. Without such things, my temper might have very well caused serious problems, and not just for me. How will such a temperament fare with less grounding and far more power?

The night cycle on the ship has begun again, and I feel my master's approach. Time is running short, but we have the night stretched out in front of us. Time once again to live in the moment.

If only the moment didn't have to end.

***

My master went before the Council and requested the boy be trained. I should have known better than to hope that common sense would get in the way of the world according to Qui-Gon Jinn. I admire his willingness to follow his own path, I just wish he weren't so willing to follow it so often.

We arrived on Coruscant, and requested a meeting with the Council. As might be expected, they were less than receptive to the idea that there were Sith Lords wandering the galaxy. I thought, for one brief moment, we might actually survive the meeting without mention of Anakin Skywalker, but then my Master decided he could not leave things alone.

The Council has agreed to test the boy. But they will not agree to his training; that much I know. They agree to nothing that does not fit in their narrow, well-defined view of the galaxy. The Code as it has been practiced for thousands of years must not be tampered with; a view my Master does not share.

Qui-Gon has just gone to take the boy for his testing. I know better than to argue with him on the subject any more. Not that that will stop me.

***

I like my life and my feelings in nice, labelled compartments. Since the change in my relationship with Qui-Gon, my feelings have been anything but. Not that I would trade our new closeness for a simpler life, or anything else for that matter, but I haven't experienced emotional upheaval such as this since Bandomeer. Interesting how Qui-Gon always seems to be at the center of my most emotional moments.

When he returned from delivering the boy to the Council, we went for a walk. Coruscant doesn't have much a skyline, certainly not compared to some places we've been, but there are parts of the Temple with beautiful views nonetheless. Qui-Gon and I went to one of the higher balconies. The sun was just starting to disappear behind the never-ending line of buildings, bathing everything in a soft orange glow. Apparently I have inherited my Master's stubborness after all. I made one last attempt to convince him that the Council would not listen. Of course, it did no good.

Before I could give in to my frustration, Qui-Gon put his hand on my arm, and pulled me into an embrace. In public. In the Temple. We were alone for the moment, but anyone could have walked by. My heart soared. As aggrivating as his willfullness could be, it had advantages. We were not going to hide after all.

He whispered words in my ear, something about going home. I think my instinctive "I already am home," pleased him, judging by the smile I could feel against my temple. He turned me toward the door and I realized he meant our rooms. It wasn't until I walked into his bedroom, however, that I went from happy to bursting with...everything, love, caring, lust...all of it. At some point he'd found the time to create the perfect scenario, the way I'd always imagined our first time would have been. "The testing will take hours," he said. "I would not want to waste that time."

I was in total agreement. Of course, when he kisses me, there is very little I won't agree too. I am fortunate he will not take advantage of that fact. We used every moment of the time to explore each other, mapping each other's bodies with a great need for even the smallest detail--and one day I will get the story about the half-circle scar on the back of his leg, at the top of his right thigh. The amount of amusement in his eyes as I asked about the scar is reason enough to know it's a story worth telling.

The joy and contentment from our loveplay have yet to leave me, which, I'm sure, will not be a good enough excuse when my Master comes back and finds me still naked in his bed. The Council will be done testing Anakin very soon, so once again reality intrudes on my dream world.

Ah, but I must remember that the dream world is part of reality now, and not just a fantasy. My Master is truly mine now, in every sense of the word.

As long as I have that, I can face anything reality chooses to send my way.

***

Insufferable, strong-willed, blind, idiotic fool! I've seen my Master do some insane things, but this *certainly* beats them all. Decide the boy must be trained. Fine. Insist the Council test him. Fine. Dump your Padawan in favor of the boy? Not fine. Not by any stretch of the imagination.

One moment, it's, "You stillf have much to learn." The next moment it's "Obi-Wan is ready to take the trials." And everything that went between those moments makes the whole betrayal that much worse.

How could he do this? How am I supposed to know how to react? One moment I'm the lover, the equal, the next I'm supposed to go back to being the subservient Padawan, only to be shoved into the cold light of the Council's judgement, unprepared to show my preparedness to be a Knight. Did he really think so little of me as to give me no warning? Or did he even think at all?

Was everything that happened over the last few weeks really what I thought it was? Or was it just a goodbye present?

***

One week. We've gone round and round about this for one week. Or perhaps I should say *another* week. The argument is old and stale, and neither of us gets anywhere. But we refuse to give it up. Perhaps it is because if we stopped arguing about the boy, there would be deeper and much harder discussions to face.

Most of my anger has abated. I understand what happened in the Council chamber, truly I do. I have not been Qui-Gon Jinn's padawan for this long without understanding how his mind works, or dealing with the ramifications of his tendencies. This is not the first time I've had things thrown at me out of nowhere in a bad situation.

It's just the first time it's hurt this badly. That, too, has mostly disappeared. I've watched Anakin on this trip, and I must say I've changed my mind. Qui-Gon is right. The boy needs to be trained. And I understand that my Master thought he would be the only one willing. As for my trials, he has been adamant that he had planned to bring that matter before the Council as soon as the Naboo mission was over; would have brought it to them sooner if we had not been diverted to Naboo on the way home from our last mission.

Now if we could only stop this senseless fighting....

***

I have a bad feeling about this. No, the sense of danger on the Trade Federation ship was a bad feeling. This...this is a screaming sense of impending disaster. Qui-Gon thinks I'm borrowing trouble because of my feelings about Anakin, and nothing I can say will change his mind. So I shall have to be extra careful.

We arrive on Naboo tomorrow. The queen says she has a plan, one that requires the assistance of Jar Jar Binks. Perhaps there's something wrong with the air on the ship, because it seems as if insanity has become contagious.

My master and I have finally stopped arguing, for the most part, though neither of us has apologized. It was more of a cease-fire, a silent pact to enjoy what we can of the time we have before we are thrust once again into the middle of a war. I am glad for the nights again, for the few hours in his arms when I can block out the doubts, the problems, and the sense of danger. For those few stolen moments I can still feel as though everything will turn out all right.

***

I apologized, finally, and received in return what mostly amounts to an apology in Qui-Gon's mind. I could not go into battle without having truly made peace, so out in the forrest, under the trees, fresh from the knowledge that Padme was the Queen (the favors Qui-Gon will owe me from that bet will keep our relationship interesting for a long time to come), we made our peace.

As I sit here and wait for time to begin the Queen's plan, I am glad things are settled between Qui-Gon and myself. Now we can focus on the battle to come without personal matters to distract us. We will need all our wits about us, of that I am sure.

***

Qui-Gon is dead.

***

I look back at my last entry, and even now, weeks later, I can still scarcely believe it. But it is true. I watched his body burn, but even before that, I felt his presence leave me as he breathed his last breath.

There is no death; there is only the Force. So where is my Master?

***

This journal has always been a way for me to sort my feelings out for myself. My lack of writing since...since Naboo underscores my inability to get my feelings to a level I can begin to sort out. I am stuck, or I was, caught in a place where I was either numb, or feeling so much, so fast, I couldn't control any of it. Neither state is a good place for training a new apprentice. Anakin has not received my best efforts, I'm afraid.

We returned to the Temple this afternoon. Two weeks on a ship has not decreased Ani's sadness over losing both Qui-Gon, and in effect, Amidala, in such a short time, so soon after the loss of his mother. We have both spent a great deal of time in meditation, releasing our anger and pain into the Force. I confess at this point I think he has done a better job than I.

Tonight, I was more numb than ever, forced to move my belongings from my old room into...I'd always thought that when we returned to the Temple that I would move into this room. I never imagined that it would be alone, and with a new Padawan in the room I called my own for so many years. I had to go through all of *his* things, none of which I could bear to throw out. I was in the process of putting everything into a box to be placed in the closet until I could deal with it properly when I found a letter in a drawer, a letter on actual paper--a rarity on Coruscant. The folded paper had my name on the outside, in writing I recognized, though I'd only seen it a few times.

It was written the day we'd made love here in his room, while we waited for the Council to test Ani. I can only guess that he must have written it while I was in the 'fresher, before he joined me there. He thought there was a chance, even then, that he might not make it back from Naboo, and he wanted to make sure I was not left in any doubt of his feelings for me.

Of all the feelings I have now, numbness is not one. Numbness would be a blessing. Why? Why didn't he tell me? I could have been more careful, I could have stopped him from going into that pit alone. I could have done something. We could have been together. *Should* have been together, for a long time to come. And now all I have are memories and an apprentice who may very well be the 'Chosen One.' Whatever that means--he wasn't kind enough to leave that information in the letter.

It hurts. Knowing that he didn't tell me, that he went to that mission prepared for the possibility he would die. But I know him. Part of me already understands. I hate it, but I understand. And he didn't leave me completely alone. He left me with a Padawan, one that he entrusted to no one else's care but mine. He left me with this honest letter, the good and the bad, the portent of his own downfall, and all of the love and wonder he felt for me.

And as I sit on the bed we shared, if only for a day, I can sense him.

In a sense, he didn't really leave me at all.


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END

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