Padawan
Obi-Wan Kenobi was a sixteen year old padawan.

And
he was utterly miserable at the current moment as he sat in nav
class, trying to focus on the lesson that Master Shaak had stepped in
to cover for their unlucky master Frigg, the poor lady coming down
with a nasty case of mate separation as Urudo, her omega mate, had
been gone longer than she should be.

The
issue however Obi-Wan wasn’t quite sure of though Qui-Gon had noted
that Obi-Wan looked rather pale and a bit fevered this morning as
Obi-Wan reluctantly nibbled on some toast.

Maybe
he was coming down with something, he
had to admit he was aching in his muscles so maybe he was coming down
with a cold or something.

And
then he felt something trickle, a sliding sensation from his arse and
oh no.

No
this wasn’t happening.

This
couldn’t
be happening.

Obi-Wan
felt himself pale and flush at the same time, his hands clenching
into fists on his keyboard as
realization hit him like a shuttle bus.

He
couldn’t karking be presenting in class
and certainly not as and omega,
he was suppose to turn into a beta!

That
was what the healers had theorized and projected, that Obi-Wan’s
very slow and late presentation meant that his body just didn’t
have the hormones necessary to become either an omega or an alpha and
all examinations up until this point, embarrassing as they had been,
hadn’t shown the developments in either directions.

But
it was undeniable.

Obi-Wan
was producing a minor amount of slick, as only omegas did. The first
time heat, the one that wasn’t suppose to attract any alphas though
occasionally did, the one to inform the omega of what they were and
that it was time to prepare and take precautions.

And
Obi-Wan was in class,
he was presenting in class,
in front of everyone and he couldn’t bring himself to call for
Master Shaak, couldn’t bring himself to do anything except sit
there in mortification and shame.

Because
Obi-Wan wasn’t suppose to present like this.

“Padawan
Kenobi?” A warm, gentle hand rested on his shoulder and Obi-Wan had
to resist the urge to bite it because his instincts were telling him
to run with that touch and he looked up at master Shaak with wide
eyes, trembling faintly. “Are you alright?” She murmured, her
brows furrowed slightly and her lekkus twitching faintly.

Her
words brought everyone else attention on him, everyone staring at him
curiously and suddenly Obi-Wan regretted sitting in the back off the
classroom.

Shaking,
Obi-Wan opened his mouth only to shut it, his teeth clicking, when
master’s Shaak’s eyes suddenly went wide. “Oh dear, that…
padawan Kenobi, I’ll call your master to escort you back to your
quarters.” She stated sternly, reaching for her comm.

Swallowing
heavily, Obi-Wan opened his mouth to argue only to shut up when she
held up her hand.

“This
is standard procedure padawan Kenobi, omegas first presentation are
not to wander the halls alone in case any alpha’s get… ideas.”
Shaak assured even as Obi-Wan took notice of the other padawans
whispering behind their hands to each other, their eyes wide and some
were starting to discreetly sniff at the air.

The
scent wouldn’t have reached them yet, this was Obi-Wan’s first
time, he wasn’t in the thrall of it yet and this was only the
warning scent to send omegas to their nest and find their mates if
they already had them.

But
even Jedi alphas sometimes got… ideas as Shaak hinted at.

And
so Obi-Wan waited, sinking down in his chair with his face burning as
Shaak had called for Master Qui-Gon, their bond flashing with alarm
when the man got informed and that just made Obi-Wan burn even more.

It
didn’t get any better when the man literally ran into the room,
wild eyes scanning the room before landing on Obi-Wan. Without
stopping to listen to master Shaak, Qui-Gon crossed the room in four
long strides and threw his robe around Obi-Wan, swaddling him in the
protective alpha scent before lifting his padawan up and grabbing the
bag with the holopads to rest on his shoulder. “Thank you master
Shaak, your message has been received and I shall inform the healers.
Thank you and may the Force be with you.” Qui-Gon said briskly,
already heading out the door with the wrapped up Obi-Wan in his arms.

The
man didn’t pause, walking at a near run pace to get Obi-Wan away
from the classroom and with a quiet whine, Obi-Wan wrapped his arms
around his master’s neck to press his face into his shoulder.
“I-I’m sorry.” He whispered against the skin, suppressing the
desire to sob. He wasn’t a child regardless how shocked and upset
he was.

“Shhh,”
Qui-Gon’s tone softened, his arms squeezing Obi-Wan carefully.
“It’s alright padawan, it’s going to be alright kiddo. We’ll
get you to our quarters and have you bundled away in your room.”
The man promised, the deep rumble of his voice soothing despite
Obi-Wan’s distress.

Clinging
to his mentor, Obi-Wan let himself cry quiet tears, knowing Qui-Gon
would do nothing to embarrass him at this moment, the alpha oozing
protectiveness for his cub.