Bright Dreams

by OasisMirror

Summary:

Qui-Gon Jinn survives Naboo. Some things are different, some things are the same.

Chapter 1: Prologue

 

Jedi Temple

Coruscant

Night

 

The lone figure of Qui-Gon Jinn sits in the temple archives. His broad shoulders are bent over a paper and pen at a desk. His long, graying brown hair is tied in a low ponytail at the base of his neck. There is no book before him, no holocron, only the blank paper, which stares back at him, reflecting the dull light of the lamp, one of the only lights on this time of night.

It is always quiet in the archive and he often comes here to think. The presence of so much knowledge is a balm for his soul. It has always been this way.

Tonight is the night before a mission will take he and Obi-Wan to Naboo for reasons Qui-Gon himself does not agree with. He knows he has little choice. He has long been a thorn in the Jedi Council’s side and knows he must pick his battles.

This will be the last mission he and Obi-Wan share as master and apprentice, he is sure of it. The young man should have taken his trials to be a Knight nearly two years ago, but the pair of them work well together and have grown close. It is a painful thought for both of them to think of being split apart. They’ve discussed it, far away from the Temple, where it feels safe to talk about their friendship.

This is something he has disagreed with all of the other Jedi Masters on. Feeling love is not a weakness. To deny love is to deny a part of the Force that stands bright against the dark side.

No one is amused by his theology.

He thinks on what he will do when Obi-Wan is a Knight. His first apprentice to be trained to completion. Perhaps he’ll retire, see the universe. Or perhaps he’ll volunteer for nursery duty. None of those futures shine at him. Something dark lays in his path.

Qui-Gon has never been a man to look too far forward, or too far back. But there is something ahead of him...this mission, perhaps….

So this is their last mission. He puts pen to paper, and begins his letter.

“My Dear Obi-Wan…”

Chapter 2: Obi-Wan

Notes:

This is self-indulgent fix-it fic. You've been warned. There is no Anakin, there was no stop on Tatooine. Fate unspooled herself differently here.

Obi-Wan Kenobi remembers little of the actual fight. It was more desperate than any in his life, but even later he will have a hard time recalling it to Master Yoda. A Sith, that’s all he knows for certain, clothed in darkness and hell bent on the Queen, or so they all thought.

He remembers Qui-Gon falling. The blank expression on his face as his knees hit the hard floor, and he collapsed. The softest, kindest soul he’d ever known, taken from him by a monster. By the darkness. He remembers the pain and the anger welling up in him. He remembers using it, failing. Calming - triumphant.

Then he is at Qui-Gon’s side. This conversation too, is a blur. He puts a hand to his master’s forehead as the Jedi Master struggles for breath in his lap. Dying, dying…

Obi-Wan puts a hand to Qui-Gon’s head, one to his heart and wills him to live. Pours the Force into him, pours whatever strength he has left into him, and he’s so very tired from the fight. But this man has been a father to him. He’s loved him when Obi-Wan felt unlovable and wretched, and he will not die here.

“I won’t let you go,” he whispers, tears falling heavy and warm.

“You must…” the soft reply. That beloved voice. A voice that soothed, taught, joked. A voice that is dying.

“I won’t,” Obi-Wan insists.

“You cannot sustain us both. You have to let go.”

“I won’t,” Obi-Wan sobs. A warm, kind finger brushes tears from his cheeks, and then the man in his lap is still. But he still gives, opening himself to the light of the Force, willing it into Qui-Gon’s body. It’s desperate, but he just needs TIME.

The young Jedi’s vision is darkening when the medics finally find them. They pull him away and he feels himself limp and heavy against the cold floor.

“We have a pulse!” one of them yells, but he’s not sure to whom they’re referring. He feels himself taken away by gentle hands. His mind seems unable to rest though his body is depleted. He hears the voice of Queen Amidala, or Padme, as she insists they call her now.

We are friends, after all, aren’t we, Obi-Wan?

Yes, Your Highness.

“Where is Master Qui-Gon?” she asks, but not to him, her voice is worried, but strong. He’s glad she’s alive.

“Going to Intensive Care, m’lady. It doesn’t look good.”

A cool, small hand on his forehead, smoothing his hair. A warm, bright light in the Force. Padme, it must be. Her voice is closer now and her next words are quiet, meant for him, or maybe meant for herself. “Oh, Obi-Wan.” A pause. “Is he injured?”

“He doesn’t seem to be. Exhausted, perhaps. It seemed like he was...keeping Master Qui-Gon alive? Is that possible?”

“He is a Jedi...so I’m not sure, Sen. I think it’s safe to assume anything is possible.”

“Yes, m’lady.”

“Make sure Obi-Wan is near his Master. He’ll want to see him when he wakes.” Obi-Wan is again grateful for her, but her voice is getting further away, and soon he is resting, deep in a dreamless sleep.

Chapter 3: Qui-Gon

Summary:

Memories.

He drifts.

It doesn’t hurt.

He isn’t dead.

Familiar voices echo nearby, but they are muffled, and their words indistinguishable.

What he does have are flashes of memory where he lays, floating in a field of stars.

Master Dooku stern, long face hovered before him.

“You must stop being distracted by any sentient being that you trip over.”

No glow of shame at these words. He’d heard them before and he knows who he is, even at this tender age.

“Yes, Master.”

“Unless they can be used for your advantage, most people aren’t worth bothering with.”

“I understand.”

Dooku sighed. “You say that you do, but then you continue-”

The memory fades and a new one takes its place.

In this moment he was not as young. He stands before the love of his life, the Jedi known as Tahl. She’s a Noorian, and was a librarian in the Jedi Archives before an near-death experience made her re-evaluate her life. She took her apprentice (a girl from Obi-Wan’s class) and began taking missions.

Tahl and Qui-Go pledged themselves to one another not long after, and have been what some might call partnered for years. He rarely sees her, but to know that she is out there, it is almost always enough.

Here she looks to be about 20, so he must be the same age. She has brown skin, and striped green and gold eyes. Her hair was dark and long, put up simply. He took her hands in his.

They were alone in the gardens. He hadn’t remembered this particular talk, but several like it have been had over the years.

“He’s not good for you, Qui-Gon.”

“Better me than you, then.”

She sighed. “That’s not how this works.”

“It is for me. I can handle Master Dooku.”

Her eyes light up with a challenge. “And you don’t think I could.”

He leaned in and kissed her cheek gently to soften the fire he stoked into being. “I would do anything to keep him from hammering you into any shape, and he will do anything to prove himself a better master than Master Yoda.”

“You should tell someone,” Tahl said softly. “Before he takes another apprentice and someone else gets hurt.”

She pulled him gently into her arms and he went willingly. “Am I hurt? Am I different?” he asked curiously, as he wrapped his arms around her.

“No, but he’s not done with you, yet.”

He didn’t laugh at her words. They rang true. He sighed and rested his cheek on the top of her head.

“You don’t get to stoic your way out of this, you lummox,” she said, but her words were gentle.

The memory fades.

Chapter 4: Padme

Queen Padme Amidala has a problem. There are two unconscious Jedi in her hospital and a dead Sith Lord recovered from the depths of her palace. This would be bad enough if she didn’t find that she really rather likes the Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan as people, but the entire Jedi Council is on their way to Naboo from Coruscant to investigate.

She is not a woman easily intimidated. One of the youngest queens ever elected to this seat, she has found many challenges on her way here, but this is nothing she was ever prepared for.

Padme has no time to worry about either of Jedi before the council arrives. She gets reports, of course, worried as she is for her new friends. They had saved her, her planet, and her own government and she owes the two of them everything.

Still, two days passed and she is busy organizing recovery efforts for the city and forging peace with the Gungans, when Captain Panaka arrives with word. His face is lined with worry.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi is awake,” he says softly. “He asks for you, My Queen.”

She takes in a deep breath and nods. “Tell him I will be there to see him within the hour.” A direct request like this, met with the truth that she is busy would be seen as cold.

She finds twenty minutes and goes to see him. The medical wing is full of recovering soldiers and civilians. She regrets that she cannot dress down to be Padme to go to see Obi-Wan but there is no time to change out of her elaborate robes and hairstyle. This too is a sacrifice for the State, for her office. She accepts it as she most things, with grace.

As she requested the Jedi share a private room. She sees Master Qui-Gon first. He is attached to many machines that keep him alive. In the shadow of the technology, Obi-Wan is nearly missed. His cot is tucked into a corner and he lays on his side, his head tucked into the crook of his arm, his face toward the door.

Queen Amidala kneels beside him as best as her dress will allow and touches his warm cheek with the back of her knuckles. “Obi-Wan?”

He stirs and his blue eyes open blearily. “Your Highness,” he says, his voice still tells of exhaustion.

“You called me down here. How can I help?”

“I cannot sense his spirit,” he whispers to her, his eyes moving to Qui-Gon’s form. “Have I done a horrible thing, keeping him here with me?”

She sighs through her nose, and is quiet for a long time. “You made a decision, Obi-Wan. It was life or death...who could fault you for choosing life?”

His pained expression smooths out somewhat, but the turmoil is still there, behind his eyes.

“In case no one has told you, the Jedi Council will be here to see you tomorrow,” she says.

His eyes widen. “All of them?”

“So they say.”

He shakes his head. “They won’t be here for me. It’s the Sith.”

“I thought they were a myth,” she muses.

“So did I,” he confesses with a shudder. She pulls the blanket up around his shoulders.

“You need to rest,” she orders, her voice still quiet. He smiles wanly up at her.

“Yes, your majesty.”

“Call me Padme, Obi-Wan, we’ve been over this.”

His only response is a small hum. She kneels by him for a quiet moment longer, then smooths his hair and stands. “I can’t stay, but I’ll be back,” she promises.

He simply nods, his face haunted, his eyes far away. She leaves him to his thoughts.

Chapter 5: Obi-Wan

Summary:

I plan on keeping the same rotation of character POV here. If you want to see someone else's, let me know and I'll see what I can do. <3

When Obi-Wan wakes again, he feels much better. His thoughts have unclouded themselves and his body doesn’t hurt so much. Someone has cleaned his skin and dressed him in light, white linen.

The room is dark and quiet, and there is the sound of running water from the streams he can see outside the window, glittering in the soft city lights. He takes a deep breath and connects himself to the Living Force around him. It swirls there, as it ever does, comforting and constant.

He rises from his cot and makes his way to Qui-Gon’s still form. He and his Master had seen many battles together. Several injuries between them, though most of them were his own clumsiness. They’d called him Oafy-Wan when he was in classes at the temple. There is some truth to it, or at least there had been. Still, there has never been anything like this. Nothing that has cut as close to mortality as this.

He lifts himself up gently onto the bed, near Qui-Gon’s knee and looks at his Master’s drawn and slack face. He feels a miserable wave of self-loathing rise up in chest. He accepts it, as Qui-Gon had taught him and holds on through the wave of it, then lets it go. The feeling was gone, but the knot behind his heart stays.

He reaches out for his Master’s hand, resting on the blanket. He takes it in his own.

“Why did you have to fight him alone?” he asks in a whisper, the tears he’d been holding back spilling down his face. “We’re stronger together, you’ve always said.”

Qui-Gon Jinn is many things, but a hypocrite isn’t one of them. Obi-Wan knows him better than anyone, and the truth of what he’d done hits him full on. “You were trying to save me?” He tears his eyes from Qui-Gon’s face and looks up at the moon, giving a sob to the quiet of the room. “Master, that’s not fair…”

Some Jedi believed that emotions were the key to the dark side, but Qui-Gon had never been that way. Obi-Wan was allowed his feelings, any of them, all of them. He counts himself lucky to have a human master, and one whose own heart is so tender. So he cries, his fear and pain washing away with the tears. He wasn’t ready for a life without the man who had become his best friend and greatest ally, but perhaps he must be.

There is no sense of life from Qui-Gon’s body. Though it still breathes and its heart still beats, the essence of who his Master is seems to be out of the young Jedi’s grasp. Perhaps the Jedi Masters will have insight on the matter, when they arrive from Coruscant, but for now Obi-Wan is alone. He wipes at his face with the sleeve of his tunic, and holds Qui-Gon’s warm hand in his own.

Whatever will be will be.

He feels ashamed that in that moment of ultimate crisis, when Qui-Gon lay dying in his arms that he forwent everything he’d ever learned about the will of the Force. Still, perhaps Queen Amidala is right and he is to be forgiven for his human-ness. To save this man who has been his father and mentor.

And just like that, he feels a peace come over him with his decision. There really is no choice, is there? He made the decision and it’s done, so now he lives with it, whatever the end result is.

Chapter 6: Qui-Gon

Notes:

TW/CW: Mentions of emotional abuse in this chapter. aka: Dooku is a prick

The Jedi Temple has many gardens. They’re vast and wild looking, despite the tending that goes into maintaining them. It is here that Qui-Gon relives another memory.

He was sitting on a bench, reading a data-pad. It wasn’t work, some frivolous bit of fiction that he was rather enjoying. The sound of running water surrounded him, and the sounds too of Obi-Wan and Bant Eerin talking nearby. She was Mon Calamari, Tahl’s apprentice, and one of Obi-Wan’s best friends. The girl was shy and quiet, but came out of her shell when she and Obi-Wan were alone.

Qui-Gon was glad for her gentle spirit, and her friendship to his apprentice. The two kept in close contact, and she often eased Obi-Wan’s mind. He hoped that he did the same for her.

The two were just out of earshot, talking. He could hear their voices, but not the contents of them. But then a presence he hadn’t felt in years...and a voice he knew all too well. He stood, his data-pad abandoned on the bench.

He rounded the corner to see exactly who he knew he would. Dooku. Talking to his padawan. A flame of anger lit in Qui-Gon’s chest, and as if in response to it, his former master turned to face him.

“Ah, Qui-Gon. I was just introducing myself to your new apprentice…”

“No, you were just leaving,” he met Obi-Wan’s curious gaze and gave the boy a ‘go’ gesture with his head, which, to his credit, the young man made haste to do, taking Bant by the hand.

Dooku watched them leave. “That was rude of you.”

“What do you really want?” Qui-Gon asked, drawing himself up to his full height, his arms crossed over his broad chest. It had been years since he had last spoken to this man. Blessed, peaceful years. What was it about him that made Qui-Gon feel like a kid again?

“I came to give the Council a bit of news and I thought I’d come see you.”

“I never want to see you. I thought I was clear,” Qui-Gon said, and began to walk toward the garden door.

“I wanted to see how your new apprentice was doing. I heard that the last one was...hmm...unsuccessful.” The sound of his Master’s smug voice grated on Qui-Gon’s nerves.

Xanatos had fallen to the dark side, and perhaps it was Qui-Gon’s fault. He’d loved the boy, and perhaps overcompensating for how he’d been treated as a padawan...he’d let him get away with too much. Qui-Gon had spent years resisting an apprentice afterwards, unable to think about dealing with the heartbreak of losing a child to the darkness under his watch, again. It was guilt he had to carry, but it was his own guilt and had nothing to do with Obi-Wan. He had to believe that if he was to move forward.

He stopped in the path, calmed himself and answered, “Perhaps I wasn’t trained properly.”

A beat of silence, a solid hit, then. Good.

“I would like a word with young Obi-Wan - “

“If I see you near him again, or hear that you’ve spoken to him without myself or Master Yoda present, I will tell them every single thing you did to me when I was a boy under your care.” Qui-Gon turned, his voice calm, a small smile on his face. If Dooku wanted to step over his boundaries, he would find carefully laid traps in their place. “Do not test me on this, Count. You will fail.”

The old man got angry then, Qui-Gon could see it on his face. It felt vindicating.

“I taught you everything you know!” he spat.

“Yes, and you taught me well. Stay away from Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

The memory ends and Qui-Gon stirs faintly in the void where he floats. Obi-Wan. He was in danger, wasn’t he? It’s his job to protect the young man from the dangers around him...to teach him how to defend himself...but something is wrong. He has to go back. The Sith!

He began to struggle, and the nothing around him began to tear.

There is someone talking to him and he rips through the nothing into the light again.

When he opens his eyes, it’s Master Mace Windu who looks down at him. He must make a face because the other Jedi smirks and says “Good to see you too. Stay still, you’re still weak.”

“Obi-Wan?” he croaks, his voice dry.

“With Master Yoda. He hasn’t slept for two days. I promised to watch over you in his absence.”

“Hmm,” he says and closes his heavy eyelids.

“I’ll tell him your awake,” Master Windu says, but his voice is already fading as sleep overtakes him.

Chapter 7: Qui-Gon

Summary:

Qui-Gon gets a visit from Plo Koon, and Padme has concerns about the Jedi in her city.

Notes:

This fic will have lots of platonic physical affection. It's something humans need to survive and this isn't Earth and it isn't America, so...platonic physical affection. Men need it too.

When Qui-Gon wakes again, and opens his eyes, he has been turned slightly on his side, and Obi-Wan is tucked into the space on the bed that this movement has left. The boy rests peacefully, his mouth open, his hand relaxed where it lays before his face. Qui-Gon feels his heart melt a bit at the sight. Obi-Wan hasn’t slept in bed with him since he was quite a bit younger and nightmares plagued him.

Slowly and with great effort, he reaches out a hand and rests it on the boy’s cheek. Not a boy any longer though, really, he corrects himself. Obi-Wan has been grown for years now, but it is still right to think of him as his own child. They must have drugged him, because Obi-Wan has never been a deep sleeper and he does not wake to the touch.

“Your Padawan loves you, to your credit,” says the familiar voice of Plo Kloon. The Jedi Master walks into view.

“Hmm,” Qui-Gon hums in affirmative, a ghost of a smile on his mouth. “I’ve been selfish, keeping him close. He should have had his trials years ago.”

“There is a time for all things,” Plo answers softly, pulling the blanket up over Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “He does not begrudge you that.”

Qui-Gon exhales at this and lets his hand drop from his apprentice's warm face.

“How do you feel?” the Jedi Master asks him, resting the back of his hand on Qui-Gon’s brow, a wave of displeasure going through the Force between them at what he finds there. It’s a system they have, one that Plo no doubt shares with many. The kel dor’s face was often hidden by his breathing mask, and so he broadcasts his expressions between himself and other Force sensitive beings. It was something he and Qui-Gon, as childhood friends, had been practiced at for years.

“I don’t feel much of anything,” Qui-Gon answers honestly. They’ve numbed him, and his body feels sore, but relaxed.

“You have a fever,” Plo announces.

“I’m sure that’s normal,” he replies.

“Humans are fragile,” the kel dor answers back, a common worry of his. Qui-Gon’s long hair has come free from its usual pony-tail and Plo gently moves it from his human friend’s forehead. “And you’ve just been run through with a lightsaber. We will let the healers decide what is normal.”

Qui-Gon has to smile a bit at this, “Then you’d better go get them.”

Plo does return soon with a human woman who looks to be no older than the Queen. She meets Qui-Gon’s eye and gives him a little nod, which he returns.

“My name is Raine,” she tells him, her manner professional. “Master Jinn’s vitals are weaker than we’d like, but not in a dangerous range.” She looks up at Plo, inscrutable behind his mask. “Unless there is something going on which you can sense and my technology cannot.”

He shakes his head. “No, only that he seems to have a fever.”

Qui-Gon’s eyes begin to drift shut as they talk. He places his hand over Obi-Wan’s, the connection between them warm and solid and comforting. It is good to not be alone, and better to have your friends with you in your time of weakness. He does, suddenly, with a deep and keening pain, misses Tahl.

~*~

When he wakes again, it’s dark, Obi-Wan still sleeps steadily beside him, but Padme stands over them, her brown eyes lost in thought. He takes in a deep breath, to let her know he’s awake, then gives her a small smile in the dim light of the healing ward.

“I hope I’m not bothering you,” she says softly, her young face is smooth, but worried.

“I’ve nowhere to be but here,” he replies, his voice soft and kind. She looks like a person with a deep problem and playing counselor to the young has never seemed like a burden to him. He gives her time.

“The Jedi want to look through the government documents…” she starts slowly.

This makes sense to him. A Sith is no small thing. He was here for a reason. “Which ones?” he asks, instead of saying this to her.

“All of them, Master Qui-Gon.”

“If I am to call you Padme, I insist you leave off my title as well,” he says quietly to her over Obi-Wan’s head. “What are you going to do?”

She sighs and turns her head in profile to him, her eyes gone distant. “Give them to them, I imagine. What choice do I have?”

“There is always a choice,” he reminds her. “Do you have something to hide?”

“No, but the precedent…” She wraps her arms around herself, trying to self-comfort. “I don’t know what the right answer is, or what it is they hope to find.”

He has guesses, but he knows she does as well, and she isn’t asking for advice, only a listening ear. The Republic has little sway this far out, even on a world that is part of its bulk. “I want to find out why this happened, and who is trying to harm my people...who it was who hurt you. I want to know…”

Her silence stretches on between them until she looks at him again.

“Then perhaps you have your answer.”

“Perhaps I do.”

Chapter 8: Obi-Wan

Summary:

Obi-Wan gets some news.

Obi-Wan wakes to find his hand is enveloped in Qui-Gon’s. He feels heavy and groggy. Master Plo had told him this was common for the ‘stunt he’d pulled’. Apparently pouring your living essence into your friend to try to stop him from dying was hard on a person. Who knew? He smiles to himself at that and opens his eyes.

Qui-Gon’s blue eyes are slit open just a bit, awake maybe, drifting near consciousness, but Obi-Wan is so relieved for it he could cry. Something’s changed in the time he was asleep. His master has come back to him and he’d been aware enough to take Obi-Wan’s hand. He smiles a bit at Qui-Gon and his master’s lips quirk up at the sides. He feels his heart swell.

“You’re awake,” he whispers.

“In a manner of speaking, I suppose I am,” Qui-Gon replies drowsily. “You saved me.”

Obi-Wan feels his cheeks heating up, “You happen to be one of my favorite people.”

Qui-Gon snorts gently at this, his hand tightening weakly around Obi-Wan’s before he moves to brush his long hair away from his forehead where it clings. The apprentice Jedi feels his heart pull at how fragile Qui-Gon seems. No child is ready to see their parent fall, and despite the Jedi tenets, that’s how Obi-Wan has long felt; that Qui-Gon is his father. He’s maybe never put so fine a label on it, but the familial bond has long been there, despite that the two sometimes butt heads.

“Would you rather I hadn’t?” he asks, despite himself, the worry he’s been carrying for days finally finding a voice. That he even gets to ask this feels like a miracle.

Qui-Gon looks at him out of the corner of his eye, his lips still set in that small smile. “It is what it is, Padawan. You did well.”

Obi-Wan lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding and presses his face into the pillow of the large bed, relief washing over him in a wave. There is a familiar, warm hand that settles on his shoulder as he cries, and by the time he looks up he realizes his master is asleep again. All for the better. He’s so glad to see him awake and alive his heart feels like it might explode. He wipes at his wet face and takes a deep breath, struggling to get his emotions under his control.

“Feel them, you must,” comes the familiar voice of Yoda from behind him. “In order to let them go. Grip them so tightly you should not.”

Obi-Wan takes a breath in and a breath out, steadying himself. He feels better.

“Hmm, good. That’s good.”

Obi-Wan climbs out of the bed and stands before Master Yoda who is looking up at him with his big, green eyes and a serious look on his face. “Talk, we must.”

“Yes, Master?”

“Asked the Queen to show us her communications we have. Track this Sith we must. Agreed to this she has, but only one Jedi she has allowed in the review. It is you she requests, young Obi-Wan.”

He tries not to let his surprise show on his face. “Me?”

“Hmm, trusts you she does. Forged a friendship in the midst of battle did you. Only three people will there be, the Queen, her handmaiden and you. Listen carefully you must, to things said and unsaid. A Padawan you are no-longer, a Knight you must be.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Hmm. Good. How fares Master Qui-Gon?” Yoda asks, glancing at the bed.

“He’s...weak, but himself.”

“Good news that is. Recover he will, believe in his strength we must.” Yoda patted Obi-Wan on the knee. “Tomorrow morning the meeting is. Send someone to get you they will.”

He leaves and Obi-Wan is left alone again, frowning at the wall. Still, a puzzle is better than waiting to go back to Coruscant and he too wants answers about the person who nearly killed his Master.