#ughghghghg i love these two so much you have no idea ;A;

[novelmonger]

Hiya! It's Windmill from Discord! Saw the prompt meme - could you do Obi-Wan and Qui-Gonn with "I love you. You know that, right?" If you're up for it! Thanks <3

Hi Windmill!

Let Me Count the Ways ask game

(Note that this follows the canon of the Jedi Apprentice books - set right after #8, The Day of Reckoning - but I tried to make it still understandable for those who haven't read them.)

Obi-Wan had already powered down the lights in his room in the Temple and lain down on his sleep-couch when someone knocked on his door. He'd felt a pulse in the Force a moment before, and instantly knew the person on the other side of the door was Qui-Gon.

Strange. They'd seen each other not long ago, for a time of meditation in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. And they were due for a training exercise at 0600.

Slowly, Obi-Wan sat up, pushing aside his blanket. “Enter,” he said, reaching over to turn on a lamp.

The door slid open and Qui-Gon stepped inside. “I apologize for disturbing your rest,” he said stiffly.

Obi-Wan shook his head, shifting to sit cross-legged on top of his sleep-couch. “I wasn't asleep.”

Qui-Gon nodded, then paced back and forth across the small space, hands clasped behind his back. He'd left his cloak behind, Obi-Wan noticed, and his dark hair fell loose about his shoulders. It was as though he'd been in the process of turning in for the night, then realized he'd forgotten something and come directly here.

Tentatively, Obi-Wan quested out towards him in the Force. Their bond had been damaged, fractured, since everything that had happened on Melida/Daan. They were in the process of mending it, and their unofficial mission together on Telos had taken them a good distance down that path, but Obi-Wan knew it would still take a long time before they could restore the deep trust that had once existed between them.

Qui-Gon paused, gazing down at the workbench where Obi-Wan had left his lightsaber after cleaning it moments ago. As he stood there, an answering thread in the Force touched Obi-Wan's, like fingertips brushing against each other. Obi-Wan was surprised at how hesitant it felt as well.

“Tahl reminded me today,” Qui-Gon said slowly, absently straightening the tools on the workbench, “that we cannot simply return to the way things once were. And nor should we. We are not the same as when we first met.”

“Master Yoda said something similar to me,” Obi-Wan said with a wry smile. “'Expect not to tread the same path twice, for a path through sand it is, washed away by the tide.'”

Qui-Gon snorted, but he looked amused rather than annoyed. “And Tahl spoke to me of pottery. We're being conspired against by poets.”

Obi-Wan grinned, just as Qui-Gon glanced up with a twinkle in his eye. Their gazes connected for only a moment, but it was one of those moments Obi-Wan had learned to prize above all else in recent days. It was a moment that reassured him that, however else their relationship might change going forward, the bond between them was still intact.

After a moment of silence, Qui-Gon left the workbench and sat down at the foot of the sleep-couch. There was a deliberate quality to his movements, as though he were about to say something of vital importance. Obi-Wan found himself straightening attentively. This was why Qui-Gon was here.

“Tahl also counseled me to be more open with you, Obi-Wan. Too often, I fall into the trap of thinking that, because I can see a path forward, you will also see it and agree with me.” He shook his head. “It is dangerous when a master forgets that his apprentice is also a being with wisdom to contribute.”

“But I was wrong!” Obi-Wan blurted out, his hands curling into fists on his knees as shame pooled in his gut—just as it did every time he thought of that day. “I was wrong to...to defy you, and steal the ship, and....”

“Yes.” Qui-Gon reached out a hand, settling it on Obi-Wan's shoulder. “You were wrong. And so was I, Padawan. I was the one who put you in a position where you felt such actions were necessary. But perhaps, had we taken the time to communicate more openly...some of that could have been prevented. You are my apprentice, Obi-Wan. Not my servant. We are meant to be a team.”

The warm, comforting weight of Qui-Gon's hand on his shoulder somehow made the shame break apart and fade away into nothing, like mist on a warm morning. Obi-Wan looked into those wise blue eyes, full of the esteem and respect he'd been afraid he would never see again. So unlike that day on Melida/Daan when they had turned icy and forbidding, as Qui-Gon had held out his hand for Obi-Wan to give up his lightsaber.

Confusion. Betrayal. Outrage. That was what they'd both been feeling, on the day their bond had shattered. Neither of them had been able to understand the other's decisions, and neither had been willing to explain or ask further questions. They had each known they were right, and the very thought that the one closest to them could possibly disagree was unfathomable.

And that had made their relationship brittle, too easily broken. Maybe this was what Qui-Gon had been talking about, when he'd said on Telos that he looked forward to their next disagreement. If they argued, that meant they both knew they weren't of the same mind, and they could work together towards a solution. It didn't have to mean they would abandon each other again.

“I'll try to live up to that,” Obi-Wan said quietly, as Qui-Gon's hand slipped from his shoulder. “I want to earn your trust again. I want to be worthy of it.”

Qui-Gon sat quietly for a moment, then got to his feet, his back to Obi-Wan. At first, Obi-Wan didn't think he would say anything, but finally he said, in the softest voice he'd ever heard from him, “I love you, Obi-Wan. You know that, right?”

Obi-Wan stared at him. “I...yes. Yes, I know.”

It wasn't exactly that Jedi didn't speak of love. Attachment was forbidden, but the entire Order was built on a foundation of love—the selfless kind of love that led to thousands of beings devoting their entire lives to aiding strangers across the galaxy. And of course every Jedi had special affection for their closest friends and teachers, not to mention the deeper-than-blood bond between Master and Padawan.

But Qui-Gon had never been one to speak openly of his feelings. His first thought was always for the mission, or for a lesson to pass on to Obi-Wan. He was foremost a Jedi Knight, and secondly a teacher—as it should be. But underneath it all, he was still a man. A man with emotions and cares and, yes, affections too.

Of all people, Obi-Wan shouldn't have been surprised to see evidence of that. He had seen evidence of that, plenty of times before. But it was still strange to hear Qui-Gon speak of it so bluntly.

Qui-Gon was almost at the door by the time Obi-Wan realized he was leaving. Apparently, he'd said what he'd come here to say. “Master, wait!” Obi-Wan sprang to his feet.

Pausing with his hand on the door, Qui-Gon looked over his shoulder.

Nervously, Obi-Wan swallowed hard. He'd never said this to anyone, but when he instinctively reached out to the Force, it rang with the chimes of a hundred golden bells in his heart, and he knew it was the right thing to say. “I love you too, Qui-Gon. I always have. Even then.”

Even when he was angry and hurt. Even when they were shouting at each other. Even when Qui-Gon left him on a war-torn planet. Even when their connection in the Force frayed and snapped, and it seemed pointless to hope they could regain even a fraction of what they'd once had.

Though Qui-Gon didn't move, it felt to Obi-Wan as if he had reached out his hand and grasped his. The Force wrapped around both of them like a warm blanket, and Obi-Wan found himself aware of Qui-Gon's breathing and heartbeat, in a way that normally didn't happen except sometimes in the heat of battle, when all of their focus centered on their movements synchronizing and complementing each other.

For a moment, Obi-Wan thought he caught a glimpse of the future. All of his worries about whether they could mend the rift between them faded away, because he knew they would be together. Perhaps not always—eventually, Obi-Wan would grow up and leave Qui-Gon's side. One day, he would become a Jedi Knight. One day, he would take on a Padawan of his own.

But nothing would come between them like this again. Not really.

“Yes, my Padawan,” Qui-Gon murmured, turning once more to the door. “I know.”