Spoilers: Post-TPM. There be spoilers here. Watch your step.
Summary: Obi has issues dealing with what happened at the end
of TPM, at which point the Jedi Council, in their infinite
wisdom, makes a really freaking big huge mistake. Insanity
ensues.
Feedback: Pretty please.
Disclaimer: The boys belong to Lucas. I'm just borrowing them
for some nice fun angst. I can't promise they'll be returned
intact.
"I don't like it." Mace Windu rubbed the side of his face,
scowling. "I really don't like it."
Master Yoda, as always, was implacable. "Do it we must."
"There has to be another way!"
"No other way," Yaddle said, a bit impatiently. "Lifebond they
had. Unfinished it was. Great pain the boy has. Pain that
deep...lead him to the Dark Side, it may."
Ki-Adi-Mundi shifted in his chair. "I can't say I like doing
this, but I don't like doing nothing, either. If we allow this
to continue, he'll either die from grief or go mad; and the boy
he insists on taking as his apprentice can only do the same."
Mace's mouth was a hard thin line. "That doesn't excuse messing
with his mind."
"For his own good it is," Yoda said.
Several heads nodded. Mace looked from Council member to
another, and finally sighed. "If this is the Council's will,"
he said tightly, "I will abide by it. But I will not
participate. Qui-Gon was my friend." The words rang out
a bit too loudly in the Council chambers, and Mace swallowed.
"Qui-Gon Jinn was my friend, and he was a damn good Jedi. I
won't just pretend he never existed. I can't."
Yoda made a soft chirruping sound. "For the Padawan's sake we
do this. Not yours."
"Do we know it will work?" Adi Gallia asked quietly. Her
narrowed blue eyes were full of a politician's distant,
cautious sympathy. "We are not erasing the lifebond, only
eliminating in his mind the other end. The bond will still
exist in him, even if apparently untethered. Will this not be
just as destructive?"
"It should be more bearable," Ki-Adi-Mundi said. "The boy
cannot grieve for someone who never existed; an imagined friend
cannot die. He will feel half-forgotten sorrow, but not know
for what. I do not think the grief will destroy him."
"These are just guesses, though? You do not know for certain?"
Ki-Adi-Mundi bowed his head. "We cannot know."
"Decide we must." Yoda raised one hand. "Do, or not do."
"I still think this is crazy," Mace Windu said in a low, angry
voice. "I vote no."
"Abstain," Adi Gallia said.
"I...vote yes." Ki-Adi-Mundi didn't look at Windu.
One by one, the Council members voted. Yoda was the last, and
he sat quietly for a moment, as if pondering a vote that would
affect the outcome. Finally he stirred, ears flattening a bit.
"Vote yes, I do," he said. "Ten yes votes there are. One
against. One abstention. Decided we are. Do this we will"
Mace Windu stood up, eyes narrowed. "That is the Council's
will," he said with a tight bow. "I wish it were different."
Whirling, he stalked out, robes flapping after him like some
landbound bird.
Yoda bowed his head. "Wish that also, I do," he murmured.
Obi-Wan knelt in the Temple gardens. He held very still, like a
perfectly painted cold-marble statue, barely even breathing.
The Force whispered quietly around him, almost as if he weren't
there.
He liked it that way. Alone, without even the whispering
sympathy of the Force, he had only to endure himself. Alone, he
could feel numb.
Slowly he became aware of footsteps approaching him, stopping;
a pace more, and stopping. The Force could have told him who it
was, but he didn't want to listen to the Force, not right now.
"Obi-Wan?" It sounded like Mace Windu.
Go away, Obi-Wan wanted to say. Go away and leave me
alone. I don't want you. You don't want me. But aloud, he
said only, "Yes?"
"I wanted to talk." Mace knelt next to him, arranging his robes
carefully. "To see how you were doing."
How do you expect me to be? I've lost my Master. I should
hurt. I should be more than numb. "Fine."
"You've closed yourself off from the Force." It was a
statement, not a question. Obi-Wan could feel the Jedi Master's
gaze, direct and unblinking.
I don't want the Force. Qui-Gon was Force. Qui-Gon...
Obi-Wan shrugged. "Yes."
There was no response Obi-Wan could think of to give, so he
gave none.
"Obi-Wan?"
Go away. Leave me alone. goawaygoawaygoaway. "Yes?"
"What would you want, if we, the Council, could give you
anything?"
"Anything?" To have Qui-Gon back. To have had the chance to
give my life for him. To have been there, fighting by his side.
To die, so that the pain might leave and I go to the Force with
my Master. Haltingly, he said the only thing he could:
"To...to forget."
Mace Windu nodded slowly. "If you need anything...I will be
here."
I don't want anything. I just want to be left alone. I just
want peace. "Thank you, Master."
Mace Windu stood, and slowly, very slowly, walked away, leaving
Obi-Wan alone with the emptiness of a silent Force.
"I thought you weren't going to involve yourself," Ki-Adi-Mundi
said softly. Under different circumstances, he might have been
teasing. Now he just looked at Mace Windu solemnly.
Mace looked back equally solenmly. "I am a member of this
Council. I must be here. Even if all I do is watch."
Ki-Adi-Mundi bowed. "It is good."
"No," Mace said. "It isn't good. None of this is good."
"Kenobi is here." The murmur flew around the Council chambers
even before Mace Windu saw the Padawan. Obi-Wan looked like a
lost child, standing alone in the middle of the chamber floor,
hands tucked up inside the sleeves of a robe that looked too
big for him.
Had he ever appeared alone before the Council? Mace wondered,
thinking back. No memories came to mind. Always, either Qui-Gon
had been with him, one as the other's shadow, or he had been
speaking for Qui-Gon and could affect his Master's presence.
Saesee Tiin stepped forward until he was a few paces away from
Obi-Wan. "Padawan Kenobi, do you know why you are here? Do you
know why we have summoned you?"
Obi-Wan flinched back a bit from the tall, scowling Jedi
Master. "No," he said, so quiet it was almost inaudible, "but I
expect you will tell me."
"It is rare for a Padawan to lose his Master, or for a Master
to lose his Padawan." Tiin's voice was gravelly but even-toned.
"But when it happens, adjustment is hard. To achieve the proper
balance with the Force, the proper peace, is hard."
"And you think you can help me." Obi-Wan tilted his head to one
side.
"Yes. We do. We can." Tiin started circling around Obi-Wan,
moving like a hunting predator. "Pain is healthy to a point,
but beyond that point... It shuts you off from the Force, or
turns you to the Dark."
Obi-Wan stayed silent, but Mace thought he saw a tremble within
the large sleeves.
"We do this to help." Tiin's voice had dropped to a low,
hypnotic rumble. "You have taken Skywalker as your apprentice;
you cannot help him as you are. If we have your approval, your
help, this will go smoothly. Will you allow it?"
Obi-Wan shrugged. "If that is the Council's will." There was no
emotion to the voice. No fear, no worry, no pleasure, no
sorrow. Mace Windu shivered at the flat, empty sound.
"Then listen to me." There was a strange ring to Tiin's words
as he focused his telepathy, an overtone that sounded in the
back of the head. "Padawan Kenobi, listen. Listen to my words,
and believe. Listen and believe, because what I tell you is the
truth, is your truth. You must believe what I say. The
man you know as Qui-Gon Jinn, the man you knew as your Master,
does not exist. He never existed. You have no memories of him;
you have no knowledge of him. He does not exist to you. There
is not and never was such a Jedi. Do you hear?"
Obi-Wan was silent.
Tiin turned to the Council. "He is blocking me by reflex," he
said. "I need your help. Add your strengths to mine."
One by one, all but Mace complied. The air in the Council
chambers was thick with resonances of the Force. Tiin met
Mace's gaze and nodded slowly, then turned back to Kenobi.
"Listen to me, Padawan Kenobi," he said, and the telepathy was
so strong it made Mace's head hurt. "There is no Jedi Qui-Gon
Jinn. There never was. Believe it. Believe me."
"No!" Obi-Wan cried suddenly, falling to his knees and then to
his side. "I cannot. I'm sorry. I can't."
"You must." Kiin stood over the Padawan. "Listen. Believe. Yoda
is your Master, and always has been. Qui-Gon does not exist.
You never knew him. You have no memories."
Obi-Wan started sobbing, hands over his face. "No. No."
Kiin knelt, touching his hands to Obi-Wan's, concentrating the
telepathy by thought alone, without words. A Jedi's mental
training was powerful, but Kiin, with the power of the Council
behind him, was stronger. At last, Obi-Wan stiffened with one
long silent shudder, and then relaxed suddenly. Kiin stepped
back. "It is done," he said. "He will not remember."
There was a long moment of silence. Slowly, Obi-Wan got to his
feet, looking as shaky as a newborn colt. "My head hurts," he
said quietly, plaintively. "May I have the Council's permission
to leave?"
Saesee Tiin nodded. "You may."
"Padawan Kenobi," Eeth Koth said, leaning forward. "If you wish
another Jedi to take the teaching of Anakin Skywalker--"
"No. I must. I must, because..." Obi-Wan stopped, brow
furrowed. "Because...I promised...someone..." He shook his
head. "There's a reason, I know there is, but I can't quite
recall. My apologies."
"None needed." Koth leaned back again. "If you wish to keep him
as yours, you may."
"Thank you, Master." Head bowed, Obi-Wan left.
It took time for a Jedi's essence to accustom itself to not
having a body. Learning how to talk, how to project sound
through the Force, was a step. Projection, the appearance of a
body, took longer.
Blind, isolated, feeling only the threads of emotion from his
Padawan, Qui-Gon Jinn fought against the Force, fought against
the time it took. Patience was trained into the Jedi; patience
was a lesson the Force taught, over and over again. But it was
hard for him to be patient when he could feel his Padawan's
sorrow, sharp spikes of grief masked by dullness.
In time, the dullness grew, until all Qui-Gon could sense
through the bond was a grey dullness. Angry, he chafed at his
own slowness, chafed at the despair which was threatening to
swallow him as it was threatening his Padawan.
//Obi-Wan,// he sent through the Force when he could.
//Obi-Wan. Can you hear me?//
The only response was a sense of quizzical listening. Qui-Gon
tried to calm a sudden panic. //Obi-Wan, can you hear me?//
There was a hesitant //Yes...?// but no sense of welcoming.
//Obi-Wan, I am with you. I will always be with you.//
Quizzical, impersonal denial.
Qui-Gon chafed. He didn't know whether Obi-Wan couldn't hear,
couldn't recognize him, or was showing anger. He had to be
there. Focus, he told himself, forcing the memory of a body. It
was like so; and he appeared so; and it was done.
He had no thought other than Obi-Wan. There was the child,
Anakin, but there was also a promise that Anakin would be
trained properly. Anakin could wait. Qui-Gon focused on Obi-Wan
through the Force, and went to him.
Obi-Wan was sitting alone when Qui-Gon appeared. "Can I help
you?" he asked, politely if distantly, squinting at the
shimmering blue Force-ghost.
Qui-Gon blinked. "I...you don't recognize me?"
"Should I?" Obi-Wan's brow furrowed a bit. "I'm sorry. Who are
you?"
"Obi-Wan..." Qui-Gon stopped, uncertain of what to say, and
frowned. "Your Master, Qui-Gon Jinn."
"Yoda is my Master," Obi-Wan said dully, looking away. "I do
not know you. I'm sorry."
There was a moment's baffled silence. "Obi-Wan, I am your
Master. I have been your only Master." He spoke gently, as to a
stubborn frightened child. "Listen to the Force, Obi-Wan,
Padawan. It will tell you what you need to hear." He took a
cautious step forward. "I'm here, Obi-Wan. I can help you--"
"Stop!" Obi-Wan put his hands over his head, forearms pressing
against his ears to shut out all noise, and closed his eyes
tightly. "Yoda is my Master," he repeated, rocking back and
forth. "I do not know you. Yoda is and always has been my
master. I do not know you. I do not want your help. I do
not..." His voice caught, and he looked like he was about to
cry. "I have dreams about you," he whispered. "I have
dreams...are you real?"
"Force, yes, I'm real." Qui-Gon wanted to hold his Padawan, to
rock him and comfort him and do all the things that one really
needed a body to do properly.
Obi-Wan laughed brokenly, still rocking, still with his eyes
closed. "I don't know what's real any more. I have dreams about
you, but I've never seen you before. Yoda is my Master, but you
say you are my Master also. I don't know. I don't know. I don't
know."
Qui-Gon watched him for a minute, scowling with concern, and
then disappeared to track down Mace Windu through the Force.
There were some questions he needed answered.
"Sith!" Mace yelped, as Qui-Gon appeared practically under his
nose. "Qui-Gon, dammit, don't do that. Give me some
warning."
"Sorry," Qui-Gon said, and cocked his head. "You recognize me."
"Of course I do."
Qui-Gon nodded slowly. "Then it isn't me. Mace?"
"Yes?"
"What the hell is wrong with Obi-Wan?"
Oh, dear. "I...I'm not sure what you mean, exactly," he
said, stalling. We should have seen this coming. A
Master gone to the Force would contact his Padawan first. And
in this case, the Padawan wouldn't be able to know his Master.
"I spoke to him, and he wouldn't listen-- he shut me out, I
don't know why. I appeared to him, and he didn't know me. Yoda
is his Master and always has been, he insists." Qui-Gon was
bright-blue with agitation. "He has dreams about me, but he
doesn't know who I am and doesn't think I'm real."
"I see." Mace closed his eyes, trying to think.
"I know my Padawan; I know what he can do, and what he can't
do. He's not dealing with this, Mace, not in the way he should
be. There's something wrong, and he's cracking. This isn't like
him. I need to know what's wrong with him. I need to know how I
can help."
There was hollow pain in Qui-Gon's voice, and Mace swallowed
hard. "You...you can't help, I don't think." There was a bench,
set in a recess of the wall. Mace sat down and stared at the
floor. "You and he had a lifebond."
"I know," Qui-Gon said quietly.
Just tell him, Mace told himself. He needs to know;
and he's going to find out, at some point. "Obi-Wan was
having...difficulty dealing with your death. There are ways to
heal...ways to grieve...but he was shutting out the Force,
shutting out anyone who would help. Possibly shutting out your
voice."
Qui-Gon crossed his arms, waiting.
Mace took a deep breath and continued. "The Council decided
that it would be best if he didn't know you existed...if he
didn't have anything to grieve for. They..." Mace gestured
vaguely. "...made him think that he was never yours."
"I see." Qui-Gon sat down on the bench. "Well. I hadn't
realized they were capable of such utter idiocy."
"Neither had I." Mace shrugged. "I voted no."
Qui-Gon looked at him sharply. "Did any others?"
"One abstention. That was it."
Qui-Gon muttered something under his breath. Mace couldn't hear
it, and wasn't sure he wanted to. "Thank you," Qui-Gon said
stiffly, standing up. "I think it's time for me to have a talk
with Master Yoda."
"Good luck. And...Qui-Gon? I'm sorry."
Qui-Gon nodded, smiled thinly, and disappeared.
"I can't believe the Council was stupid enough to do
this."
Yoda looked impassively up at Qui-Gon. "Stupid, were we?"
Qui-Gon sighed. "It isn't a personal thing, Master. And I
know...I assume...you were acting as you thought best. Master
Yoda, have you seen Obi-Wan lately? He's not even sane."
"Saw him before we acted, I did. Dying inside, he was. Is that
better?"
"Grief heals, Master Yoda. Time, and the Force, they are good
for many things. What did you do, take his memories of me? Take
away part of what made him who he is?"
Yoda's ears flattened. "Think a lot of yourself, you do."
Qui-Gon growled softly. "I am his Master. For better or for
worse, all Masters shape their Padawans. It is a consequence of
the relationship."
Yoda bowed his head.
"What you have done, it is not something the Force can mend.
Why did you do it, Master? The Force is not something given to
us to play God, to shape another man's mind."
Yoda pulled himself up to his full height of a little over two
feet. "Lecture me, you do? Lecture me on what proper is, on
what the Force is used for? Hmm?"
Qui-Gon didn't back down. "Yes, I do, dammit, because obviously
you don't have enough sense to recognize what right is."
Yoda looked furious for a moment, and then suddenly calmed
down. Somehow, the calm was more frightening. "Master Jinn."
"Yes, Master Yoda."
"Did you acknowledge the lifebond? Hmm? Chose another Padawan,
you had. Alone your Kenobi felt, even before your death. Force
does not heal everything, Qui-Gon. Do what we can, we must.
That is all. Wrong we are sometimes. Still, we can do no more."
Qui-Gon sighed as the anger deflated out of him, swallowed by
the Force. "I'm sorry, Master. My anger...perhaps it is at
myself, not you, not the Council. I want Kenobi-- my Padawan--
I just want him to smile again. I want him to live. And I
want...wanted...him to remember me, as he is my only legacy."
Yoda's eyelids drooped a bit with sympathy. "Understand, I do."
"Master Yoda?"
"Hmmm?"
"Is there a way to heal him?"
"...I do not know."
Qui-Gon flinched and closed his eyes. "I need him to live,
Master Yoda."
"As do we."
"Will you help?"
"Do what we can, we will. It is all we have ever tried to do."
"Try harder."
Yoda almost smiled. "Yes, Master Jinn."
There was a garden in the Temple full of delicate-looking white
flowers that made a soft chiming sound with the slightest
breeze. Obi-Wan walked slowly through the garden, brushing his
hands against the thin plants, listening to the almost harmonic
laughter of the flowers as he passed through.
Somehow, this garden made him comfortable, almost peaceful. He
wasn't certain why, but he didn't question it.
In the center to the garden was a ring of flowers bred to be a
translucent red color. Obi-Wan knelt inside the circle,
thinking about the two Jedi who both held claim to him as
Master.
Did he dare believe the one who called him Padawan? No one
could lie through the Force. But what he said went aganst
everything Obi-Wan believed.
Yoda is my Master. He says this, and I must believe him. But
this other-- Qui-Gon? If he is who he says he is, why do I not
remember it? If he is not, why do I dream of him?
Believe your instincts. That was what the Force taught. But
what when instincts were divided? Obi-Wan bowed his head.
I don't know what to believe. Not any more. And,
plaintively: I don't understand. I don't understand at
all.
"You weren't meant to have reason to question your beliefs," a
deep gravelly voice said behind him. "For that, I apologise."
Obi-Wan didn't turn. "I didn't hear you coming, Master Tiin."
"I walk softly," Tiin said with a bit of self-deprecating
humor. "And you don't listen to the Force."
"Master Tiin?" Obi-Wan asked quietly.
The Iktotchi knelt in front of him. "I am here to apologise,"
he said hesitantly. "On behalf of the Council. I do not like to
admit this, but we erred in our judgement with you."
Obi-Wan folded his hands in his lap and looked down at them.
"Is it true, then, what Qui-Gon says?"
"He says he is your Master, I imagine."
"Is he?"
"Yes."
"Then why do I think Yoda is my Master? Why do I not
remember--"
"Because we made you forget." Tiin was silent for a moment.
"He...died in battle. You were there, and afterwards, you...you
lost the Force. You were in danger from your grief."
"So you took the memories."
"We thought you would be more stable."
Obi-Wan looked up at Tiin for the first time. His hands were
trembling with a rage he couldn't even feel fully. "How could
you do this to me? What right had you? You took my memories, my
knowledge, part of my life. What gave you the right?"
"It was what you wanted. We thought it was what you needed."
"If what you say is true, I needed my Master. You could not
give me that. But you did not try. You took away even the
little I had of him, and gave me a Master that was never mine."
"It was an error. We can only apologise. I know it is not
enough." Tiin sighed and stood up. "If there is anything we can
do to help..."
"I have had enough of your help."
Tiin nodded and left with a rustle of robes brushing against
the bell-flowers. Obi-Wan closed his eyes, bowed his head, and
very quietly gave up trying to understand the universe.
"Saesee Tin said I would find you here."
Silence.
"He also said he'd told you what they did to you."
Obi-Wan turned his head enough to see Qui-Gon's Force-ghost,
but still didn't speak.
Qui-Gon spread his hand over the tops of the bell-flowers.
"This was my favourite garden," he murmured, almost to himself.
"I brought you here to heal, when you were sick with Xerxian
flu. You said it...made you smile. Made you hurt less."
"I didn't remember that," Obi-Wan said. His voice sounded thick
and uncertain. "There...is much I don't remember."
"I know. I'm sorry. I wish I could have come to you
sooner...wish I could have stopped them."
Obi-Wan half-smiled. "Master?"
"Yes?"
"If the Council has taken my memories of you, what else is
missing?"
He sounded lost. Qui-Gon felt a pulse of sympathetic grief, and
a following pulse of anger at the Council. "I don't know.'
"Neither do I." Obi-Wan covered his face. "I don't know
anything any more. I don't know who to trust. I don't even know
what's real, what's imagined, what's dream, what's...sanity."
"Oh, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon closed his eyes.
"Master...I'm sorry. I'm sorry this happened. I'm sorry I've
forgotten you. I'm sorry I can't be your Padawan any more."
"It's all right."
Tears were running freely from Obi-Wan's eyes, but his voice
remained steady. "Master, if you are the one I promised, could
you find another Jedi to train Anakin?"
"You won't?"
"No," Obi-Wan whispered. "I don't know how to think any more. I
don't know what's real. How can I keep him sane? How can
I win his trust if I can't trust even myself?"
Qui-Gon nodded slowly. "I will see to it."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
Obi-Wan reached out as if to touch Qui-Gon. "I wish I could
remember," he said softly. "You seem nice."
Qui-Gon tried to smile. "I, also, wish you could remember. You
were...are...the best Padawan I knew. You will make a fine
Knight."
"No. I won't."
Qui-Gon frowned. "I don't understand."
"I will not be a Knight. I will not be a Jedi." Obi-Wan looked
up at him. "I can't live if I don't know what to believe. Every
moment, every memory, might as easily be a product of the
Council's 'gift' to me. Please forgive me."
There were ways of killing opponents with the Force, ways that
cause instant, almost painless death. Qui-Gon had never heard
of these ways used for suicide, so it was a moment before he
understood what was happening. In that moment, Obi-Wan looked
up at him, eyes dimming, and the corners of his mouth twitched
upwards in the attempt at a smile.
"No--" Qui-Gon concentrated on using the Force to keep Obi-Wan
alive, but the damage had been done. "No, please..."
An annoyingly rational part of his brain wanted to point out
that the Obi-Wan that was now dead was not the Obi-Wan he had
known; that the Padawan was in some sense dead when the Council
had tried to save him.
Would it have hurt less, he wondered, watching him
exist, driven mad by his own memories?
"Does life ever fail to hurt?" Tiin said quietly behind him.
"You sensed this." Qui-Gon said, gesturing at Obi-Wan's still
body.
Tiin bowed his head. "I am sorry this happened. It was not our
intention."
"Mine neither," Qui-Gon said, touching his Padawan's cheek. The
hairs on Obi-Wan's arm bristled at the closeness of the
Force-ghost. "Mine neither."
Silently, Tiin plucked an already-broken stalk of bell-flowers
and placed it in one of Obi-Wan's limply outstretched hands.
"He will be remembered."
Qui-Gon looked at the Council member, and said nothing.
~~ Turning and turning in the widening gyre
~~ The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
~~ Things fall apart; the center cannot hold;
~~ Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
~~ The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
~~ The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
~~ The best lack all conviction; the worst
~~ Are full of passionate intensity.
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