Better Days Lie Ahead (Star Wars, Obi-Wan)

[Wolfwings22]

This is a little different than my usual Supernatural infused haze that I am usually in. Star Wars was one of my first fandom and I love it dearly, especially the Prequels and I know that’s not a popular opinion but I love Obi-Wan sooooo much. I wish that we had seen more of Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon’s relationship. So, I had this idea of having Qui-Gon taking care of Obi-Wan a while before Episode 1 where Obi-Wan is 23. It’ll be very fluffy and not overly long, but I hope that all you Star Wars fans enjoy!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

    The fire crackled in front of Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn's feet. He held a sturdy branch and jabbed it at the quickly shrinking fire. He would need to find more wood to feed the fire soon before it completely put itself out due to lack of fresh kindling. It wouldn't have been difficult for the capable Jedi Master to head into the woods to find more, but something was keeping him back. Gentle sniffling reminded Qui-Gon of what that was.

 

    He turned his head slowly to the shivering mess of a young man beside him. His Padawan was sitting hunkered on a small sleeping bag with his cloak hugged tightly against his shivering frame. His teeth chattered despite his best effort to stop it. His Padawan braid seemed to swing as he struggled to keep himself still. Water was still drying on him and that wasn't doing anything to help with the clear chill that he was exhibiting. His nose was red from constant rubbing and his chest heaved with each uneven breath as he tried to will himself not to cough. His eyes were overly bright, alerting Qui-Gon that this was more than a chill. This was turning into a quite worrisome situation when he noticed heat radiating from his Padawan that wasn't from the fire.

 

    "Are you alright, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon questioned, unable to keep the concern from his voice.

 

    Obi-Wan lifted his feverish gaze to his Master before forcing a small smile. "Never better, Master," he announced cheerily.

 

    ‘Typical Obi-Wan,’ Qui-Gon thought. The boy could be practically on his death bed and he would still proclaim that he was fine. It was something that Qui-Gon had been working with Obi-Wan about for the better part of ten years. Yet, anytime Obi-Wan was sick or injured, he would do it best to hide it from his Master until he was ready to collapse from whatever was ailing him. It was concerning to say the least and something they continued to work on. However, now wasn't the time for heroics. Qui-Gon needed to know what he was dealing with and Obi-Wan was making a difficult situation seem hopeless.

 

    Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows as he poked at the fire once more, causing a log to fall and release sparks and ash slightly into the air. "You're going to have to do better than that, my young Padawan," he chided.

 

    Obi-Wan straightened, his shoulders pushed back. "I'm not as young as you think," he responded. "I'm twenty-three years old, Master."

 

    "Ah, so you are." Qui-Gon feigned surprise. "However, you're still my Padawan and have much to learn. Besides, you are much younger than me."

 

    Obi-Wan struggled not to roll his eyes in front of his Master. Before he could report back with a snappish comment to keep the friendly banter coming, he felt a telltale prickle in the back of his sinuses. A frustrated huff nearly rolled in the back of his throat before he halted it. The last thing that he needed was another lecture from his Master about displaying his emotions like that. It was very unbecoming of a Jedi. Besides, Obi-Wan had more pressing concerns.

 

    He lifted a hand to rub at his nose discretely, but it did nothing for the tickle. If anything, it exasperated it. Obi-Wan hadn't been feeling his best before the Council had called him and his Master for a mission. It was a typical negotiation with some miners who were drilling for minerals on an unsuspecting planet and gravely upsetting the inhabitants of the planet. The miners had threatened war and the native creatures hadn't wanted a war. That was when they had called the Jedi for help.  

 

    Normally, Obi-Wan would be excited for a mission. However, he had started to feel the signs that he was rundown. He was tired no matter how much sleep he got, his throat was slightly sore, it was getting harder to breathe, and then there was the unfortunate tickle in Obi-Wan's sinuses. He had managed to disguise how he was feeling in front of his Master during the negotiations. He would've been in the clear if not for an unfortunate detour when the miners changed their mind about the deal that they had made. They had forced Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon to retreat when they turned their entire ship against them. The Master and Padawan team had fled to the planet below, but their escape pod had crashed into one of the many lakes. They were lucky to come out of it relatively unscathed, but the dip in the cold lake hadn't done Obi-Wan any favors. In fact, it had made everything way worse!

 

    Obi-Wan wasn't one to openly complain. He tried to keep those thoughts from his Master, who would just chide Obi-Wan on behavior unbecoming of a Jedi. However, now Obi-Wan desperately wanted to complain, especially when the tickle seemed to torture him and wouldn't give him the release that he so craved at the moment. All he could do was wait patiently and pray that he wouldn't be caught in this ticklish limbo forever.

 

    While Obi-Wan was sitting with his jaw partially slack and an almost comical ticklish and distraught look on his face, Qui-Gon couldn't help but chuckle as he watched. Obi-Wan glanced through a watery gaze as he noticed his Master watching him with an amused look glittering in Qui-Gon's eyes. "M-Master," Obi-Wan complained, his breath breathy and voice raspy.

 

    "Having trouble, my young Padawan," Qui-Gon questioned, unable not to feel a fondness for the young man beside him.

 

    Obi-Wan blinked his eyes quickly in an attempt to halt the frustrating sensation in his nose. Just when he thought the tickle had abated, it quickly overwhelmed him once more. He lifted his elbow to his face, his cloak falling from his head in the swift motion. "HrchrsShsHoo! HrchrsSHsHoo! HrchsSHsSHoo!"

 

    "Bless you," exclaimed Qui-Gon as he looked to his Padawan in surprise. He couldn't remember the last time that Obi-Wan had been sick. Obi-Wan was always super studious and kept a lot of things to himself. In fact, Qui-Gon was fairly sure that if Obi-Wan was ill, he would try and hide it for as long as possible. However, the fact that they were on a mission and that there was nowhere for Obi-Wan to hide how progressively worse he was feeling, wasn't helping matters.

 

    Obi-Wan glanced up embarrassingly at his Master with his wrist still pressed against his nose. "Ub thangks," he snuffled embarrassingly, his cheeks becoming bright red in embarrassment as he tried to pivot away from Qui-Gon to try and clean his nose as quickly as possible.

 

    Qui-Gon felt a wave of pity pulse through him. He knew how private and secluded Obi-Wan could be at the best of times, not counting when he was most vulnerable. When they were on Coruscant at the Jedi temple it was much easier for Obi-Wan to slip away unnoticed even under Qui-Gon's cautious and concerned gaze. Qui-Gon knew how Obi-Wan was and often gave him that time to figure things out on his own. Unfortunately, they weren't in the confines of their shared space in Coruscant.

 

    “You should’ve said something before we left about you not feeling well,” Qui-Gon questioned in his usual calm and calculated tone.

 

    Obi-Wan gave a shrug, tucking even lower in his cloak to make himself seem smaller. “I can handle a cold, Master.”

 

    “Handle, yes, but suffering through it on a mission when we are in a muggy forest is, I doubt, the best conditions for nursing an illness.” Qui-Gon was merely making an observation when he spoke instead of trying to directly scold his Padawan for his actions. Obi-Wan was right that he was an adult and capable of making his own decisions, even if they turned out to be the wrong one.

 

    A sudden barking cough took both of them by surprise. It bent Obi-Wan forward, coughing into his raised elbow that was covered in his cloak, attempting to muffle the sound and keep his Master safe from this onslaught. Each cough shook Obi-Wan’s frame, his Padawan braid swinging back and forth as his head moved.

 

    Qui-Gon instinctively reached up and began to thump on Obi-Wan’s back with a cupped hand between his shoulder blades and then worked his way down. He could feel Obi-Wan’s lungs expand with each cough. A frown deepened on Qui-Gon’s face as worry overwhelmed him for the young man beside him.

 

    The coughing eventually stalled and Obi-Wan was able to take in a raspy breath. Tears collected in his eyes and his face was red from the exertion. His nose slightly ran thanks to the loosened congestion from the fit and Obi-Wan thrust a hand over his nose, embarrassment shining in his overbright gaze.

 

    Qui-Gon felt around his cloak until he found what he was looking for. He produced a lovely silk handkerchief and extended toward Obi-Wan. “Here. This might be softer than your rough cloak.”

 

    “I’m sorry, Master,” Obi-Wan wheezed, taking the handkerchief from his Master and pressing it against the tender undersides of his nostrils. He averted his gaze and craned his head to the side, seemingly unwilling to meet Qui-Gon’s gaze to see the disappointment he thought was there.

 

    Even though Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had become one of the most notorious Jedi teams in the Temple, Obi-Wan couldn’t ignore the fact that there had been a time when he and Qui-Gon hadn’t gotten along so well. The last thing that he wanted was to disappoint his Master in yet another way. They had come a lone way, but Obi-Wan could still remember when things between him and Qui-Gon were less than perfect and he always feared of doing something that would transport them back to where they started.

 

    “Perhaps you should try blowing.”

 

    Obi-Wan nearly jumped at Qui-Gon’s voice. He glanced back, confusion showing on his face as he tried to decipher what Qui-Gon actually meant.

 

    Qui-Gon motioned to his own nose. “Perhaps blowing your nose will do better than the constant sniffling that you’re doing.”

 

    Although Obi-Wan was sure that Qui-Gon hadn’t mentioned it vindictively or to embarrass him, but that was what Obi-Wan took from that conversation. Still, Obi-Wan knew better to argue with Qui-Gon. He cupped the handkerchief over his nose and blew softly, hoping that the crackling of the fire would drown out the sound of it.

 

    Qui-Gon sensed that Obi-Wan was embarrassed and turned back to the fire. He prodded a piece of branch into the fire to stir the ash. It wasn’t a rather impressive fire. However, it gave off heat and chased the chill away from Qui-Gon’s bones. Deep in the woods was not Qui-Gon’s favorite place to be. Spending time with a sick Padawan was also not something that was high on Qui-Gon’s list of enjoyable things to do. They had a mission, though, and a little sickness wasn’t something that they could abandon their mission over.

 

    Qui-Gon opened his mouth to say something about the mission at hand when he noticed that Obi-Wan was looking toward the tree line. Apprehension settled on Qui-Gon’s shoulders as he tried to follow where Obi-Wan was looking to see if there was some sort of danger that he saw that Qui-Gon didn’t. These woods were notorious for plenty of dangerous creatures that would love to make a meal out of two Jedi. There also were rumors of pirates and bounty hunters that freely roamed and took the opportunity to kill whatever they could to scrounge up credits. Almost everyone had a price on their heads these days.

 

    Suddenly, Obi-Wan ducked back down into the handkerchief with a gasp. “HrchshShoo! HrhcShsShoo!” Obi-Wan paused, taking in panting and hitching breaths, snapping forward once more a minute later. “HrhcsShoo! HurchsHsShoo!”

 

    “Bless you, Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon could tell that Obi-Wan was feeling exceptionally worn out by those outbursts. Although it wasn’t like Obi-Wan to complain, Qui-Gon could tell in the way that he held his shoulders and furrowed his brow that he was feeling less than good.     

 

    Obi-Wan nodded slowly. “Thank you.”

 

    “You should get some rest. I’ll take first watch.”

 

    Obi-Wan shook his head adamantly, rubbing at his nose with the back of his hand. “I-I can handle it, Master.”

 

    “I have no doubt that you can, but there’s no need to. I’m offering you a chance to relax and get some sleep. I suggest that you take it.” Obi-Wan was certainly headstrong and didn’t like to be told what to do. It had waned a little as he had grown older and seen the wisdom of other peoples’ decisions. All of that changed when Obi-Wan worried of being percheived as weak. Qui-Gon would never think of his Padawan like that, yet he knew that nothing he said would make Obi-Wan be anymore comfortable with showing weakness. It was a constant battle that Qui-Gon often waged and it sometimes was too frustrating.

 

    “HurchsCHsSHoo! HuCchshsSHoo! HuhRchsHSShoo!”

 

    Qui-Gon watched as Obi-Wan fell into another fit of sniffles, pawing and rubbing at his nose with the corner of the handkerchief meekly. He shivered once more, looking tired and agitated at the same time. He didn’t bother to blow his nose, not wanting to cause anymore attention to himself.   

 

    Stifling a sigh, Qui-Gon shrugged his way out of his thick cloak and draped it around his apprentice’s shoulders. Obi-Wan glanced up in surprise, blinking his eyes slowly at his Master with his reddened nostrils twitching madly as he struggled to breathe through them.

 

    “That should be a little warmer for you,” Qui-Gon murmured softly.

 

    Obi-Wan offered his mentor a slight smile. Being embarrassed in front of him wasn’t going to get them anywhere and sometimes it was better to take what was given and be grateful for it. “Thanks, Master.”

 

    “You are very welcome. Now, get some sleep. Perhaps you’ll feel better in the morning before we continue on our journey.” The chance was slim—very slim—but that didn’t mean that it was impossible.

 

    Obi-Wan gave a tender nod. “Perhaps.”

 

    Qui-Gon turned his attention to the crackling fire in front of him. He patiently waited, ears open and eyes waning to scour the forest in front of him. Safety was his number one priority at the moment not only for himself, but for Obi-Wan as well.

 

    Obi-Wan started to lay down with his feet touching Qui-Gon on the small sleeping bag. The moment that he settled down, a coughing fit gripped him since he was laying on his side instead of upright. The congestion dripped down his throat and prompted a coughing fit that shook his entire body. He forced himself to sit up while rubbing at his chest while he coughed. The sound was thick and bubbled from his crackling lungs, breath coming in frantic wheezes between sputtering hacks.

 

    Qui-Gon grabbed his flask filled with water. He extended his arm over to his Padawan, enticingly shaking the object in front of Obi-Wan’s gaze. “Drink that down.”

 

    Obi-Wan didn’t hesitate to take the offered flask and brought it up to his lips. He drank down a couple mouthfuls, water dribbling down his chin. When the coughing finally eased, Obi-Wan was still left almost groaning at the ache that now settled on his chest. Coughing was painful under the best conditions, especially when the weather was cooler and made breathing itself a little difficult.

 

    “Sorry,” Obi-Wan choked out, voice shot and thick with congestion.

 

    Qui-Gon chuckled. “You don’t need to apologize to me. I have been sick on numerous occasions.”

 

    Obi-Wan’s eyes narrowed in scrutiny as he thought hard. “I don’t recall that.”

 

    “I’m not unlike you when I become ill: stubborn and sullen.” Qui-Gon watched as a fire shone in Obi-Wan’s eyes and he was quick to keep speaking. “So I understand what you’re feeling. It’s no fun to be sick in conditions like this. You’re handling it much better than I may have under the circumstances.”

    

    Obi-Wan was fairly certain that wasn’t true, but he was thankful to Qui-Gon for saying that. It was moments such as these that Obi-Wan felt thankful that Qui-Gon was his Master.

 

    Qui-Gon smiled and patted the space beside him. “C’mere. I’m much warmer than the ground is.”

 

    Momentarily hesitating, Obi-Wan seemed to debate whether or not he should follow his Master’s instruction. He eventually found that he didn’t have a choice and leaned forward, head rested beside his Master’s knee. He could feel Qui-Gon’s warmth calming him shivers, sniffling still into his handkerchief that was growing damp. The cloak that Qui-Gon had allowed him to borrow was warm and took the edge off the chill thanks to the fever.

 

    Slowly, Qui-Gon draped an arm around Obi-Wan’s shoulders and rubbed through the multiple layers of cloak. Obi-Wan coughed lightly, curling closer to his Master. He relaxed against him, sighing in contempt as his breathing began to slow. He was so exhausted that he seemed to drift off without much of a struggle.

 

    “Get some rest, Obi-Wan, and may tomorrow be better than today.”

 

The End

[angora48]

Nice! I'm liking this. Who doesn't love a good mentor-mentee relationship, I'm all about someone who has to sleep outside in the woods being sick and shivering and miserable, and I love the self-conscious angle. Poor Obi-Wan, trying so hard to hide his cold from Qui-Gon! Don't need to be a Jedi Master to see through that one!

[funbusej]

I love these 2 so much!  And there aren't many stories about them, so thank you for this.  

[MoonDuck]

I love this situation you've put them in. Obi-Wan's trying so hard to be a good padawan and Qui-Gon is so caring  

[ellwren]

I love this!

[IveGotRedHair]

Absolutely love it! 

[solitaire-au]

Qui-Gon & Obi-Wan sneezefics were some of the first SFs I ever read, so it’s almost nostalgic for me to read another one. I never get tired of them!

Thank you for this lovely piece of fluffy goodness! 💗