Summary: Obi-Wan disappears and Qui-Gon is compelled to recover
his former Padawan. But there are some tasks that are too much,
even for a Jedi Master.
Disclaimer: George Lucas created Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, Yoda and the
Jedi. No copyright infringement is intended.
Notes:
1) This story has also been known, in an abbreviated form, as
"The Passage of Time".
2) The story arose from musings that Obi-Wan at 25 is too old
to be a Padawan. I had a wonderful time writing it.
3) Thank you Trinity for the beta of later parts!
It had been five years since Qui-Gon Jinn lost his apprentice,
and the pain was almost as fresh as it had been on that most
nightmarish of days. The horror still haunted him, and it was
apparent just to look at his face: dull eyes, heavy lines, no
sign of the spark that once lived in the great Jedi Master.
He sighed heavily, looking out over the young temple initiates
in the arena before him, not really seeing any of them. More
than ever, Qui-Gon wanted to leave this place and embark on
another solo mission, something he had become exceedingly good
at in recent years. He had no desire to take on another
padawan. None whatsoever. Qui-Gon knew it would only end in
disaster again.
But Yoda was sitting beside him, threatening to keep him planet
bound for months unless he at least looked at the young
students. There was a sage expression on the green one's face
as he too surveyed the spectacle below them. Pairs of students
fought with their lightsabers, trying their hardest to impress
the masters who were watching.
Almost against his will, Qui-Gon found his eyes drawn to a pair
of young men duelling in the centre of the arena. One was much
taller, yet they seemed equally matched, fighting with an
intensity quite above that of their peers. There was no doubt
that both were strong in the Force - but how could one ever be
sure they would remain in the Light side? How could Qui-Gon
ever be sure that they were safe?
"Trust in the Force," Yoda advised, perhaps picking up on his
sudden interest. Qui-Gon scowled. He refused to look at the
pair again, even as he felt his interest being drawn back to
the floor, to the shorter of the boys, the one with golden hair
and a laughing smile when he abruptly gained the upper hand
against his opponent. The boy whirled and spun, and suddenly
there was no doubt that he was one with the light side of the
Force; he was almost dancing with his lightsaber and a wondrous
spectacle to behold.
No, he would not watch! A pang shot through Qui-Gon's heart;
the boy's motion wasn't familiar yet it was intently so at the
same time, the attitude, the charisma, the things he missed so
much and he could only rage at himself for being so damn
careless and as a result, losing his padawan.
Qui-Gon leapt to his feet and, ignoring Yoda's outraged
protests, strode out of the hall. He was a frightening figure,
countenance so stern, and no one dared oppose his passage as he
stormed back to his quarters. Once inside, he sank into his
favourite chair and placed his head in his hands. Feeling so
alone. But knowing that he did not dare take another
padawan. Too much was at stake, the future of a potential Jedi.
He would not lose another.
Even though something inside him yearned for it. The part of
his mind, long empty of the training bond, was dead, cut off so
abruptly several years ago. Qui-Gon knew that as long as he
lived, he would never forget that day, or the days that
followed, the fear which turned into horror and then a deep
depression when nothing could be done except accept the truth
of what had happened. And try and move on. Missions, endless
missions, doing the work of the Council in an attempt to
distract him from the past.
Yet despite all of that, Qui-Gon still missed him. And by now
he was accepting that he always would. Perhaps Yoda was right,
perhaps he should take on another padawan. But not yet, he
wasn't quite ready.
He closed his eyes, and the image of the initiates sprung into
his mind. The boy, the star of the arena....
...and there was a tingle in the back of Qui-Gon's mind. The
faintest brush, the most distant of sensations, yet there was
no belaying the fact that it was there, in the place of
the training bond, and Qui-Gon's eyes snapped open in a mixture
of wonder and outrage.
A bond? Already? It wasn't possible, he didn't even know the
boy's name, and he'd be damned if he'd be forced into taking
another padawan without making a conscious decision. Qui-Gon
wasn't ready for this and as he fought against the bond, he
felt it slipping away, diminishing into almost nothingness.
Which was good. When only the tiniest of flickers remained,
Qui-Gon got to his feet and sought out Yoda. Despite the joy
the revival of that part of his mind brought to him, he
would not take another apprentice. Because taw
apprentice would be doomed.
"Master, I-" Qui-Gon began, sinking to his knees, but Yoda
immediately interrupted him, a smile creeping over the wizened
face.
"Sense it, I do," he almost chuckled. "The beginnings of a bond
you have."
"I do not want this!" burst out Qui-Gon in response. "And
today, of all days! It is sacrilegious to his memory!"
Yoda hobbled forward until he stood almost eye to eye with his
former student. "Today?"
"Yes, today. It is five years today since I lost him. He would
have been twenty-one. He would have almost been a Jedi."
Shaking his head, Yoda sighed. "You mourn him still."
"Of course I mourn him, Yoda. He was the brightest student I
had ever seen. The Force flowed through him, he was filled with
light and laughter and..." Qui-Gon's voice threatened to break,
"...he brought more joy into my life than I ever thought
possible. He was my best friend."
Yoda grunted. "Let go, you must." A comforting hand reached out
to touch Qui-Gon's forehead, sending the vaguest images and
suggestions, suggestions which Qui-Gon violently objected to. A
vision of a memorial ceremony, to formally lay Obi-Wan Kenobi
to rest.
"I refuse to believe that he is dead!" Qui-Gon burst out, his
heart aching. He'd rejected such a ceremony time and time
again, always wanting to hold on to the hope that his
apprentice would someday return.
"No other explanation is there," Yoda said sadly.
"But I did not sense his death!" protested Qui-Gon. His eyes
closed, the memories of that terrible day flooding back once
again. There had been no warning. Nothing. Just a growing
terror and horror that would never leave him.
He had been in meetings with the Council for most of the day,
giving Obi-Wan the rare day off, even as both of them had known
that Obi-Wan would spend most of the day in training anyway. He
was the best young man Qui-Gon had ever known.
The Council meeting room had Force shielded, as it was when
matters of utmost secrecy were discussed. As a result,
Obi-Wan's bond with his master had been blocked for most of the
day. And when Qui-Gon exited the chambers, somehow, he had
forgotten to actively look for it.
By the time he'd realised the bond was dormant, it was late
evening and Obi-Wan had not returned to their quarters as
expected. Surmising that perhaps Obi-Wan was in a
Force-shielded area, Qui- Gon had attempted to contact him on
his communications device. No answer. Nor was there an answer
from the libraries, or the training arenas, or anywhere that
Qui-Gon quickly contacted to locate his apprentice.
Not that he was panicking just yet. He trusted Obi-Wan, and
what could possibly happen to a Jedi on Coruscant, home of the
most talented Jedi in the galaxy? Besides, Qui-Gon reassured
himself, he sensed no pain along their bond. Not even the
fuzziness of unconsciousness. And there certainly wasn't
the searing pain that would have resulted if Obi-Wan was dead.
There was just nothing. Emptiness. As if Obi-Wan had not just
vanished out of Qui-Gon's life, it was as if he had never
existed.
And when he realised that, Qui-Gon began to get
extremely worried indeed. He raced through the temple, then the
gardens, then the surrounding area, madly asking every person
if they had seen Obi- Wan at all that day. Many had, and
Qui-Gon was eventually able to reconstruct Obi-Wan's last day.
Lightsaber practice with Bant. Time spent in the library
researching a project Qui-Gon had given him. Lunch. Then
presumably meditation for several hours, until he had gone out
into the gardens about mid-afternoon.
After that, no one had seen him. Qui-Gon searched the gardens
time and time again, both physically and using the Force, but
always, there was nothing. Even if Obi-Wan had been taken
against his will there should have been some sign, or sense of
a struggle.
Anything. Growing more frantic with each passing hour, Qui-Gon
roused the entire Jedi Council from their beds to help him
search as the hours of the night turned into dawn.
No trace of Obi-Wan Kenobi was ever found.
But to the present day, Qui-Gon refused to believe he was dead,
even after so long had passed. Even as each long day had turned
into a week, or a month, and the investigation was called off,
no evidence or motive ever being found. Even when Obi-Wan's
name was taken off the assignment roster. Even when Yoda
suggested Qui-Gon remove Obi-Wan's things from their quarters
and pack them away.
Qui-Gon had refused to do this. The door to Obi-Wan's room
remained closed, but inside it was intact, right down to the
hastily made bed and datapad thrown on top of it.
And that, in part, was another reason Qui-Gon could not take on
a new apprentice. Accepting a new padawan meant that Obi-Wan
was truly gone; and that was almost enough of a reason within
itself.
Yoda sighed heavily, picking up on Qui-Gon's thoughts easily.
"A tragedy it was," he agreed, "but insist I must that
you move on. Already, the Force has willed that take on a new
apprentice you shall."
"But what if I doom him as well?" Qui-Gon asked, more to
himself than Yoda. "I have already lost two."
"And how many do you think I have lost?" returned Yoda,
exasperated. "Happens, it does. Accept the will of the Force,
we do, and move on." He harrumphed. "I move on. You must too."
Qui-Gon bowed his head, recognising the truth behind Yoda's
words, and the pain. Even Yoda, the greatest of them all, had
lost apprentices during his 800 years of training them. Perhaps
it was time for him to begin over.
"I will listen to the Force, Master," Qui-Gon acquiesced, again
feeling the faint tingling in his mind. "But it will take
time."
"Have time you do," Yoda said, "but that boy down there is
waiting."
"I shall consider it."
Yoda managed one more heavy sigh before turning from Qui-Gon
and shuffling back to his chair. Qui-Gon took this as a signal
to leave and did so, bowing low before he left.
His mind was whirling as he walked down the corridors,
wondering if Yoda's advice had done him any good. It seemed the
new bond was not to be denied. But how could he accept it?
Perhaps it was time to put the past behind him. Time to
stop hoping and accept the truth. His heart heavy with loss,
but a spring in his footsteps, Qui-Gon returned to the arena
where the children still played. Suddenly he had a reason to go
on.
Qui-Gon greeted Mace Windu with a smile, and the surprise on
Mace's face was obvious.
"Has it truly been so long since I smiled?" Qui-Gon asked him
and Mace nodded gravely in response.
"It is good to see you here, Qui-Gon," Mace said, subtly
conveying much more with the message. "Would you like to meet
the students?"
"Yes, I think I should like that very much." Mace led him over
to the master's area where they could converse quietly for a
moment before formal introductions were made. The Council
member pointed out several promising students to Qui-Gon and
Qui-Gon found himself really listening for once, despite the
fact that his attention was drawn to the blonde boy who
reminded him a little of Obi-Wan.
"Ca-Bral Randis," said Mace, finally giving him a name. "He is
the most promising student we have seen for years. Many masters
are interested in taking Ca-Bral as a padawan, but I feel he is
still a little young. He is only ten."
"He carries himself with the authority of one much older,"
Qui-Gon noted.
"Yes," Mace quietly agreed, shooting an intent look at Qui-Gon
which Qui-Gon ignored.
"I believe you said something about introductions?"
The two masters left the safety of their area and joined the
students who had just completed their levitation exercises.
"Good afternoon," Mace said. "I would like to introduce you to
Master Qui-Gon Jinn, who has been offworld for several months."
A chorus of polite responses reached Qui-Gon's ears and he
smiled at the children, his eyes on Ca-Bral and his friends. "I
would like to spend time with you all," he said. "Would you
show me what you were doing?"
Throughout the rest of the afternoon, Qui-Gon immersed himself
in the children's' exercises as masters often did when they
were seeking a new padawan, or just getting to know the temple
initiates. A master was always welcome, as he could teach them
many things they did not fully understand.
Qui-Gon kept a subtle eye on Ca-Bral the whole time, not
wanting to single the boy out, but carefully assessing his
abilities and his interaction with the others. There was no
doubt that Ca-Bral was special. However, Qui-Gon did not dare
to reach into the beginnings of the bond in his own mind,
because Ca-Bral was completely unaware of it and Qui-Gon
refused to accelerate the process until the time was right.
As the afternoon drew to a close, a small girl crept closer to
Qui- Gon with a shy smile on her face. "Thank you, Master
Qui-Gon. It was fun this afternoon," she said softly, before
reaching forward and embracing him tightly. As the small arms
slipped around him Qui-Gon smiled. He had missed this, the
simple closeness of another person, and the innocent love of a
child. He returned the hug gently, saying, "I was honoured to
be with you all."
"Will you come again?" Jessi-myn, the little girl, asked.
"You can be sure of it," promised Qui-Gon, his eyes on Ca-Bral.
Ca-Bral steadily smiled back.
And Qui-Gon left the training rooms with a the hints of a grin
on his face, light in his eyes. So long he had been closed away
from everyone, yet a little girl had broken down his defences
so easily. Qui-Gon realised how much fun he'd had with the
children, it was something so different from what he'd done for
the past few years. Obi-Wan used to encourage him to spend time
with the temple initiates, but Obi-Wan was gone.
And Qui-Gon resolutely put that thought out of his head,
concentrating instead on the future, and the promise of
bringing up one special person in the Force. His search was
over. It was time for life.
He dined with the masters that evening and was heartened to see
Jessi-Myn smiling and waving at him, and Ca-Bral gave him a
respectful nod from across the room. Yoda obviously sensed Qui-
Gon's mood change and gave him an approving glance.
"You were right, my master," Qui-Gon acquiesced. "I have been
wallowing in the past. I shall endeavour to focus on the moment
from now on, the moment which shall lead to the future."
"Good," Yoda granted, and nothing more on the matter was said.
For the first time in what seemed forever, Qui-Gon laughed with
the other masters, enjoying the tales of their padawans'
mishaps instead of resenting them. Soon, perhaps, he could add
his own stories to theirs.
And the tingle in Qui-Gon's mind repeatedly brought a fresh
smile to his face. He could not deny it, he felt alive again.
He could not go back to his quarters that night, they were
dull, filled with ghosts and memories, and so he went to the
gardens, to think. He had a lot to consider; it was impossible
that his life could turn around in one day but it was certainly
the beginning of something new.
Qui-Gon paused at the gardens' entrance and inhaled deeply,
detecting the sweet sense of jasmine mixed with the sultry
fragrance of a warm night. This was one of the most beautiful
places on Coruscant, and deeply in tune with the Force. Peace
could be found in here.
His feet found a familiar path and he wandered, quietly,
silently, revelling in the quiet made possible by shields
around the area. It wasn't dark, for that was near-impossible
on Coruscant given the amount of illumination from both the
orbiting ships and the moons, however, it was most certainly
night. A night to embrace, a night to revel in.
He wandered through the wooded area and came to a clearing,
pausing to study the night-blossoming Itini flower. The smell
was heavenly and he breathed it deeply, accepting, living in
the moment. He was dully aware of the tallness of the trees
behind him and the edge of the park before him. Children played
there during the day, on the swings and the slides and the
"castle", but for now, it was silent.
And there was a man sitting on the swing.
Qui-Gon froze. His eyes were riveted to that spot, the tall
figure with his back to Qui-Gon sitting comfortably, arms
holding the ropes, feet trailing in the sand as he rocked
backwards and forwards.
The longish golden-red hair, highlighted by the nightly glow.
The braid trailing over the back shoulder. The cloak, clearly
three sizes too small, stretching over his back.
And the sound of his breathing, or was that his beating heart,
or was it Qui-Gon's own that Qui-Gon was hearing?
Qui-Gon stared, refusing to believe what he was seeing,
refusing to hope, refusing to accept the knowledge that every
part of his body was screaming was true. He should turn, close
his eyes, and the apparition would disappear, it was nothing
more than a cruel trick of the light.
But his heart was singing and the tingle in his mind was
bursting into full bloom and Qui-Gon suddenly recognised what
it was. The bond. It wasn't with the temple initiate whose name
Qui-Gon could no longer remember. It was with the person who
sat, unaware, before him.
Half petrified, half overjoyed, Qui-Gon took a tentative step
forward. If this was an illusion he didn't want to destroy it.
But he had to speak, he had to say something. As he opened his
mouth, Qui-Gon realised he was trembling and the words would
not come.
A step forward, and then another, the soft crunching of his
footsteps on the grass had to reach the ears of the man
on the swing, didn't it? If only he would turn, if only he
could see the face, those eyes, to know that it wasn't a
phantom.
And he turned.
And Qui-Gon looked into those familiar blue-green eyes and felt
his heart stop.
And Obi-Wan stood and walked over to him, steadying him with a
firm grip on his arms and the universe was right again.
"Hello, Master," Obi-Wan said softly, formally.
A thousand questions raced through Qui-Gon's mind. Where have
you been? Are you all right? How did you get back? When did you
come back? Are you real? Why did you leave?
But in the end, he could say nothing of this, only managing to
enfold Obi-Wan into his arms and murmur, "Padawan."
Obi-Wan awkwardly accepted the hug and Qui-Gon reflected how
different he felt. Five years ago a boy had gone missing and
now, a man had returned. Obi-Wan was much taller and had gained
a sturdy, muscular frame. No longer gawky, he was a beautiful
young man and even as he recognised that, Qui-Gon felt a flood
of confusion. It was Obi-Wan back, but was it his
Obi-Wan? Or was it a strangely different person in a familiar
form?
Finally, Qui-Gon felt strong enough to let go, but still he
trembled and nothing could stop the pounding of his heart. He
was too old for a shock like this...
"You are not old, Master," Obi-Wan said easily, and then
Qui-Gon froze with the surprise of the old bond being restored
so quickly. It didn't make sense, none of it made sense,
because for the past five years there had been nothing
in his mind! Qui-Gon stared at Obi-Wan and his former
apprentice stared back at him. Obi-Wan's eyes were open wide
with confusion as he seemed to take in Qui-Gon's appearance,
and then his own, for the first time. One hand tugged uselessly
at a sleeve which was far too short for his arm.
"I-" Obi-Wan began, and then seemed lost for words. He looked
around at the gardens in bewilderment. "You-"
"Obi-Wan, tell me," Qui-Gon finally found his voice. "How do
you feel?"
"I feel fine," he answered, slowly, deliberately. "But I am
very confused." He swayed slightly and Qui-Gon took Obi-Wan's
hands in his own, the contact providing an anchor for both of
them. "How is it that I come to be here?"
Qui-Gon sighed. "I was hoping you could answer that question
for me. Obi-Wan, where have you been?"
The gaze that met his was empty, lost and frightened.
"Nowhere," he said softly. And then he frowned, closing his
eyes. "I have been away," Obi-Wan realised. His grip on
Qui-Gon's fingers strengthened. "But there is nothing in my
mind - Master, it's nothing but an empty black hole!" His voice
rose, desperate, so frightened and again Qui-Gon pulled him
forward into a comforting embrace. One hand rubbed up and down
Obi-Wan's back as Obi-Wan buried his face in Qui-Gon's
shoulder, and Qui-Gon could feel how very very scared Obi-Wan
was.
"It will be all right, Padawan," he soothed, pressing a soft
kiss to the top of Obi-Wan's head and reflecting that even that
gesture was now different. "I am here for you. Together, we
will find out what has happened, but for now, rest assured that
you are safe."
Yet with the icy feeling that settled over his heart, Qui-Gon
found that he could not yet believe it.
He held Obi-Wan closer, although it hardly seemed possible, but
even that contact was not enough. It could not erase the
gnawing emptiness within Obi-Wan which was reflected across
their bond, the hollow space that threatened to draw Qui-Gon
down into it. And there was no denying the utter sense of
wrongness about it all.
They stood together, breathing, existing, alive. Living in the
moment with no reason to speak, for what could be said? More
useless assurances? Words did nothing against forces that could
not be seen, let alone comprehended. Yet for some reason, as
they stood together, Qui-Gon felt a little safer. He was
protecting Obi-Wan and he would never let him go again. And if
they had to stand there all night to convince themselves of the
fact, Qui-Gon was quite happy to do so.
After a time, Qui-Gon forced his eyes to open, looking beyond
this strange new Obi-Wan to the peaceful gardens which
surrounded them, the gardens which had, for all intents and
purposes, stolen five years of Obi-Wan's life. Five years. How
could anyone go on after that? And Qui-Gon's fear that Obi-Wan
could now never be a Jedi returned.
Despite the bond, he barely knew the young man, and Obi-Wan
could not know him anymore. Qui-Gon had changed, each
experience on his own had made its mark on his psyche,
adjusting his perceptions on life and the universe in general.
He found himself wondering if Obi-Wan would accept that, until
he remembered that it was foolish to be worrying about himself.
It wasn't his future which was at stake.
"Master," Obi-Wan finally spoke, using the familiar title, the
only one he knew. "What is going to happen now?" He did not
release his hold but Qui-Gon was nonetheless aware that Obi-Wan
was quietly reviewing his new state.
"We will complete your training," Qui-Gon answered with as much
confidence as he could muster.
"But-" and the muffled words coming from Qui-Gon's chest held
more than a hint of despair, "I am too old. I must be too old.
If a Padawan is not knighted by the time he is twenty-one, he
is not suited to the path. I am nowhere near ready!"
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said firmly, taking the younger man's face
in his hands and forcing him to look up, "there are always
exceptions. I promise, you will become a Knight. You have spent
your entire life working for it."
Tears filled Obi-Wan's eyes as he roughly shook his head,
forcing Qui-Gon to loosen his hold. "No. I haven't."
"You have, Obi-Wan. You must listen to me."
The traumatised eyes closed and pain again crossed Obi-Wan's
face. "There is a hole in my mind, Qui-Gon! Who knows
what I have been doing? I must be tainted, I cannot be a Jedi
now.
"It isn't fair," he continued bitterly.
"No, it isn't fair," agreed Qui-Gon, attempting to soothe his
former padawan. "However, we must accept that it has happened.
Obi-Wan, please believe me when I tell you this - your return
has brought me the greatest joy and I refuse to presume it
could be something bad." Again, he caressed Obi-Wan's cheek and
he noted that it was smooth, freshly shaven, but by whom?
One of Obi-Wan's hands released its hold on Qui-Gon and came up
to cover the hand on his cheek. "Master, I cannot believe that
until I understand what has happened." Changeable eyes met
steadfast blue, yet it seemed each of them was clinging to the
other through the gaze. "How long have I been gone?" Obi-Wan
finally asked.
Qui-Gon swallowed nervously, wondering if Obi-Wan's tenuous
hold on his composure would last through the revelations that
followed. "You have been gone for five years. You are
twenty-one years old."
Obi-Wan nodded, almost distantly. "Five years," he repeated,
and then stepped back to look down at himself. "I have no
knowledge of this body, and yet-"
"What?" Qui-Gon pressed, eager to encourage memories to
surface.
"And yet it seems intimately familiar. You, Master, I do not
recognise."
It hurt to hear those words, but Qui-Gon bore them with
stoicism. All that mattered was that Obi-Wan was back, and
whatever changes resulted in their relationship, he could still
draw comfort from the fact that Obi-Wan was alive and
Qui-Gon hadn't necessarily failed after all.
"Please understand, Master, I mean no disrespect. I am
attempting to explain that," he paused for a breath, "- that
even though the last thing I recall is sitting on that very
swing while you were in meetings with the Jedi Council, part of
me also knows that I am older." Again Obi-Wan surveyed his new
body, one hand tugging on the extraordinary length of the
padawan braid. "My memories end at age sixteen, but my mind is
older."
And that was both a relief and a frightening thing to hear.
Relief, because Obi-Wan was not a boy trapped in the wrong
body, but fear, because it revealed that Obi-Wan had definitely
experienced something during the missing time and there was no
guarantee of a good effect on his psyche. Qui-Gon intently
watched Obi-Wan, saying, "Please, continue."
"And you, Master. I know you but I do not." Obi-Wan frowned, as
if trying to decide how to put it into words. "Your physical
appearance is changed slightly but you are still my master.
Your sense in the Force is the same, you feel the same, and,"
Obi-Wan looked down, seemingly a little embarrassed, "you smell
the same. But there are parts of your mind that I have never
touched before and things that are so different and it just
feels wrong!"
"You will have much to get used to," Qui-Gon said. He glanced
around, noticing the night was wearing on, but having no
particular desire for sleep. "And much to learn. There have
been many changes during your absence."
"I know," Obi-Wan said soberly. He turned, looking at the
swing, and shuddered. "I felt so safe on that swing before but
now I find I am unable to go near it."
"Then walk with me, Padawan," Qui-Gon invited, taking Obi-Wan's
hand in his. "Ask all the questions you want to and I will
answer." Together, they began down the forested path, leaving
the eerily rocking swing far behind them.
The first question was also the one at the front of Qui-Gon's
own mind. "Will the Council allow you to continue training me?"
At Qui-Gon's hesitation, Obi-Wan looked at him with wide,
frightened eyes and Qui-Gon could clearly see the traces of the
boy he had lost.
"Have you taken another apprentice?"
And those words brought Qui-Gon's entire day rushing back to
him. "No, Obi-Wan," he immediately reassured. "I could not, I
was convinced I would never find another padawan to replace
you."
Obi-Wan picked up on the past tense. "And?"
Sighing, Qui-Gon wondered again at the mysterious workings of
the Force. "Today Yoda convinced me to consider it. Not to
replace you, but to train another young mind in the ways of the
Force. I admit that if you had not returned, I would be on my
way to accepting another apprentice."
"Oh."
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, his voice low and fierce, "I could
never have replaced you in my heart. You are the best person I
have ever known. I mourned your loss for the entire time and
every day I hoped that you would be returned. And now that wish
has been granted."
"Granted how?" Obi-Wan returned. "As much as you may wish it, I
am not the boy who went away and you are not the
master I remember. Things are different." Obi-Wan, now angry,
increased his pace so that Qui-Gon had to hurry to keep up with
him. "You said I was the best person you knew. That was
then. I am no longer so innocent, Master. Somehow, I
have become an adult and with that comes an entirely new side
to my personality!"
"I will accept that," Qui-Gon quickly said, tugging on the held
hand to make Obi-Wan slow if even a little. "And I will make
every attempt to get to know this new part of you."
"Part?" Obi-Wan frowned. "What if it is all of me that has
changed? How can you stand to have a bond with a stranger?" He
shook his head, violently. "I want to scream, Master!"
"Then do so."
Obi-Wan gave into the frustration, his howl more of an
anguished shout than anything else. "I just wish I could
remember something! There's not even a deliberate piece
of my memory missing; I have to hunt for it. My mind tells me
that this morning we dined in our quarters, this afternoon I
went to the park, and I sat on that swing for several hours
until you found me.
"I was waiting for you, Master, but I do not know why!" He
kicked at the ground, viciously. "For hours I just sat
there, and part of me wondered why I didn't bother getting up
and moving, but the rest of me just...sat. Do you know how
useless I feel because of that?"
Qui-Gon chose to overlook Obi-Wan's accusing words. "I felt
your return," he realised, dismayed at his earlier ignorance.
How could he possibly have confused it as a bond with another?
And a more frightening realisation arose from that: perhaps
Obi-Wan was truly different. "The tingling at the back of my
mind. We are still bound to each other even if we do not know
the other's true heart." Qui-Gon took a deep breath, calming
himself with the sensation of Obi-Wan's touch, strange though
it was. "Will you trust me, Obi- Wan?"
"And that's the problem, isn't it," Obi-Wan spat bitterly.
"Every fibre of my being is screaming yes, I trust you with my
life. But my mind knows that you couldn't save me from whatever
happened and that I don't even know you anymore so how can I
trust you?"
"The bond-" Qui-Gon tried.
"The bond could be nothing more than a remnant." Obi-Wan tossed
his braid over his shoulder in an attempt to appear confident
but it only betrayed his aloneness. "I do not know what I am
capable of, Qui-Gon Jinn. I suggest that the question should
not be do I trust you, but do you trust me?"
And with a growing horror, Qui-Gon realised that Obi-Wan was
right. He tried to reach out through the Force to touch
Obi-Wan's mind but now there were fragile walls around the
swirling confusion as Obi- Wan's strength and confidence
returned.
"The Force will guide us," said Qui-Gon almost by rote, hoping
that the words he'd been taught were truth. Obi-Wan only
laughed bitterly and pulled his hand from Qui-Gon's, severing
the link between them. Qui-Gon felt everything spinning out of
control.
"I gave my life to the Force and look what happened." Obi-Wan
stalked ahead, then paused and turned back to look at Qui-Gon.
He had nowhere to go.
"It is late," Qui-Gon tried, his voice calm, not betraying the
inner turmoil he was experiencing because everything Obi-Wan
had said was right. "We should sleep, and go see the
Jedi Council tomorrow."
A flicker of a smile at that, for Master Teluna, who had
discovered Obi-Wan's Force sensitivity and brought Obi-Wan to
the Temple, was on the Council. Or more correctly, she had
been. "Obi-Wan, I don't know how to tell you this..."
...and it seemed Obi-Wan again picked up on his thoughts.
"She's dead, isn't she." The words were flat and bitter.
Obi-Wan seemed resigned to the pain. "I suppose I will have to
get used to finding out that everything, everyone, I knew and
loved is gone."
"I will help you," Qui-Gon offered, feeling useless. "Come with
me now, Obi-Wan. You should rest. You have been through a great
deal today."
'Today', what did that word mean to Obi-Wan anyway? But with
nothing to do and nowhere else to go except wander the cursed
gardens, Obi-Wan followed Qui-Gon to the exit. Into the
buildings which were the same, yet different. To his former
quarters he shared with Qui-Gon, yet he felt as if he had never
left them.
"I know," Qui-Gon said softly as Obi-Wan paused at the door,
for Obi-Wan's mental shields had been down. "This is still your
place, for as long as you wish it to be."
Tiny rooms but to Qui-Gon they had never seemed better, because
despite the confusion and the pain, there was no denying the
fact that Obi-Wan was finally home.
There was a stranger in his house. That was the first thought
Qui- Gon had as he opened his eyes on the next day, some part
of his mind noting distantly that it was quite late in the
morning already, but this thought was overridden by confusion
at the sounds coming from the tiny kitchen.
Yet before the bewilderment could take firm hold, Qui-Gon felt
the comforting presence in his mind and he remembered Obi-Wan
and he smiled. No matter what happened now, he could rest easy
in the knowledge that Obi-Wan was alive.
Idly, Qui-Gon rubbed his neck and reflected it was quite sore,
with good reason. After ensuring Obi-Wan was safely tucked in
bed (and carefully not mentioning the fact that Obi-Wan's feet
hung over the edge, something they were both glaringly aware
of), he had sat by Obi-Wan's bedside, not saying a word, just
being there as a comforting presence. And to hear Obi-Wan
breathing deeply in sleep had been just as comforting to
Qui-Gon.
He didn't know how many hours he'd sat there before he'd
dropped off to sleep in his sitting position and woken with a
very stiff neck. A quick check on Obi-Wan revealed that he was
still sleeping peacefully with no hint of a nightmare, so
Qui-Gon felt confident of returning to his own room. Besides,
there was still the ever- present bond between them that would
alert him to Obi-Wan's distress should it arise.
Another clanking noise distracted Qui-Gon from his thoughts and
he supposed he should get up. He quickly pulled on his robe,
usually, he would not have bothered with such a gesture but
there was a new person in the house, one who might not have
been comfortable with seeing Qui-Gon in nothing but his
sleeping pants.
He needn't have bothered, because the first step out of his
door reminded Qui-Gon that he was overdressed in comparison to
Obi-Wan. The sight was almost comical. None of Obi-Wan's old
clothing fitted him, including the clothes he'd reappeared in.
The previous night Qui-Gon had lent him a tunic and pants but
despite Obi-Wan's new height, they still did not fit him.
Obi-Wan had rolled up the sleeves of the tunic but had not
managed (or bothered) to make it stay shut at the front.
Likewise, the pants were rolled up at the ankles and were slung
dangerously low on his hips, exposing a tanned, taught abdomen.
And Qui-Gon realised he was staring.
He dropped his eyes quickly just as Obi-Wan looked up from the
coffee he was preparing. "Good morning, Master Jinn," Obi-Wan
said formally.
"Good morning," Qui-Gon returned, not quite sure what to call
Obi- Wan. 'Padawan' seemed the most natural but neither could
be sure of returning to their former relationship and in the
light of the day, all the insecurities and problems suddenly
seemed much more real.
He crossed the room and inhaled the scent of the proffered
drink. A small smile crossed his face, obviously, Obi-Wan had
not forgotten how he liked it. "Thank you," he said sincerely.
Obi- Wan merely shrugged.
Qui-Gon walked to the table and seating himself in his
customary chair, noting that the other chair didn't have to
remain empty on this morning, and thankfully, Obi-Wan soon slid
into it. He moved with a bewitching grace, no longer a gawky
teenager insecure of his body, and Qui-Gon reflected that it
was another change he approved of.
"When will we see the Council?" Obi-Wan suddenly asked,
startling Qui-Gon out of his reverie.
The master paused, frowning. "I should contact them."
A moment's hesitation, and then Obi-Wan offered, "I could call
them." Qui-Gon saw a trace of the old Obi-Wan, the apprentice
who had always been so willing to take on what he perceived
were adult tasks and therefore important. He flashed a warm
smile at the younger man.
"I appreciate the offer, Obi-Wan, however I feel they would be
more than a little surprised and offended to find a holo of
someone they consider dead speaking to them."
"Oh." Obi-Wan drummed his fingers on the tabletop. "I expect
many people believe I am dead."
"I am sure you will enjoy proving them wrong," Qui-Gon said by
way of encouragement. "I know I certainly will."
"Yes Master," Obi-Wan replied, the words a method of locking
away his true emotions.
The knocking at the door startled them both. Qui-Gon took one
more sip of his drink before rising to answer it, noting that
Obi-Wan too had half arisen before uncomfortably settling back
down. The knee-high figure that greeted Qui-Gon should not have
been a surprise.
"Right I was," Yoda said, nodding sagely as he peered in at
Obi- Wan. "He has returned."
"Come in, my master," Qui-Gon said, gesturing inwards but Yoda
resolutely shook his head.
"No, Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan must come with me." He beckoned and
Obi-Wan was compelled to respond, shooting a quick glance at
Qui-Gon which projected a mixture of hesitation, confusion,
fear and relief.
Qui-Gon was almost afraid to ask his next question of Yoda, but
he pressed on. "You knew Obi-Wan was alive?" He tried to make
it sound as if it wasn't an accusation.
"Not until last night," answered Yoda. "Felt a pulse in the
Force, I did, when your bond rejoined. Felt the fear and
confusion." His eyes narrowed, staring intently at Obi-Wan.
"The Council must learn what happened to your padawan before we
can be sure."
The sentence was deliberately cryptic and Qui-Gon chose not to
pursue it, convinced that Yoda was not saying more for fear of
hurting Obi-Wan. Which was entirely reasonable. Still, Qui-Gon
did not appreciate the implication that Obi-Wan was unsafe to
be around, that Obi-Wan had been touched by the dark side.
"I will accompany you to your meeting with the Council,"
Qui-Gon said quickly. "If you would give me a moment to
properly dress..."
"Unnecessary, that is," Yoda interrupted, thumping his gimmer
stick on the ground. "We will speak to Obi-Wan alone."
"At least allow me to find him some clothes!" Qui-Gon
protested, stalling for time as he picked up on a wave of fear
emanating from Obi-Wan.
"Clothing matters not. Judge me by my clothes, do you?"
The words did what they were intended to do, to make both
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan smile at the oft-repeated, in various
permutations, phrase. "Nonetheless, please allow me to find a
robe at least for Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon tried again. He lowered his
voice for Yoda's ears only. "Otherwise I fear many will stare
if they can see that it is truly Obi-Wan who has returned."
Yoda grunted, but granted Qui-Gon this. Qui-Gon quickly went to
his room and selected the smallest of his robes, not that there
was much difference between it and the largest. He returned to
the outer room and cautiously draped it around Obi-Wan's
shoulders, careful not to enforce any unwanted touch on the
younger man. After the initial intimacy of the previous night,
a gulf between them had arisen from their strange new
relationship.
However, it seemed Obi-Wan was grateful for the gentle touch,
or at least the robe. He wrapped it around himself and pulled
up the hood, hiding himself. Qui-Gon nodded in satisfaction and
even Yoda appeared to approve.
"You will contact me as soon as you learn anything?" Qui-Gon
urged, not wanting to let Obi-Wan go.
"When the time is right, contact you I will," Yoda granted and
again returned his attention to the silent, robed figure. "Obi-
Wan, leave now we must."
Obi-Wan bowed in acquiescence and, not even giving Qui-Gon a
parting glance, trailed after the small Jedi Master. Qui-Gon's
heart went with him, hoping desperately that the Council could
unlock the secrets of Obi-Wan's mind and discover that there
was nothing to fear.
Even if there was darkness, Qui-Gon knew that the Council would
help. There was no other possibility. Or more correctly,
Qui-Gon would not consider any other possibility.
For the thousandth time he told himself, this time aloud,
"Obi-Wan is alive. That is all that matters."
Yet this time, he found he could not quite believe it.
He walked, alone, through the corridors of the Jedi Temple, the
cloak wrapped tightly around him, his face veiled by the cowl.
It gave him comfort to be so enshrouded: it was another method
of hiding the truth of what had happened to him. Obi-Wan didn't
want to be aware of his body, of its new size, or the new grace
he slunk around with.
In some ways he was grateful for having missed the awkwardness
of the later teenage years, because the fevered urges he'd
spent much of his time suppressing were now truly a memory.
However, Obi-Wan also knew that it was his right to have
experienced that along with every other part of growing up, the
absence of these things could have permanently damaged his
psyche.
He bit back a bitter laugh, not wanting to attract the
attention of those he passed. The Council clearly thought he
was already damaged and Obi-Wan half-believed it himself, that
he was ruined beyond repair.
His head hurt.
The entire day had become one agonising cycle of struggle, from
the very first interviews to the more invasive procedures as
Eeth Koth had delicately tried to extract what was in his mind.
Yet what had begun as a questing probe had soon become a more
personal intrusion even as the Council had cautioned Obi-Wan to
remain strong because "it had to be done".
Like hell it did. The only reason Obi-Wan had borne the pain
was because of his own desire to learn the truth, yet at the
same time he was terrified of what they might find. Which,
after the first day, was nothing. The black hole was clearer
now, more defined, and more able to suck other minds, including
Obi-Wan's own, down into the madness. After a particularly
intense session, only Ki- Adi-Mundi had been able to bring both
Eeth and Obi-Wan back from the brink.
His head hurt.
Obi-Wan didn't know if he could handle another day of such
assault, and yes, that was the word to use for it: assault.
They were almost raping his mind and whilst Obi-Wan knew the
Jedi Council had the best of intentions, Obi-Wan wondered if it
would be better to just leave him alone.
Only that would mean his permanent rejection from the Jedi
Order and that was something Obi-Wan did not dare consider. His
entire life had been built around becoming a Jedi and there was
no other path for him. It wasn't fair that it could be taken
away by a freakish accident...
He caught the thought, tugging desperately on it. A freakish
accident? The very notion was more than he'd had to go on so
far, it meant that whatever had happened wasn't deliberate, it
was more of a matter of him being in the wrong place at the
wrong time. Chasing the notion, Obi-Wan skirted around the edge
of the hole in his mind, looking for any sort of confirmation
but as always, there was nothing and perhaps the thought had
been little more than a random whim. There was no evidence.
A muted gasp caught his ears and Obi-Wan returned his attention
to the living world. Two teenage girls were whispering
together, glancing at him in shock. "So it's true, he has come
back!"
How did they recognise him? Obi-Wan pulled the cloak still
tighter around him, yet even the familiar scent of Qui-Gon in
the soft material provided little comfort.
He strode onwards, not before hearing a last giggle, "I always
thought he was cute; I wonder what he looks like now." Knowing
he shouldn't, Obi-Wan reached out with the Force to hear more.
"Kel-lun, he's far too old for you! Besides, maybe he grew
horns while he was away. I heard he was abducted for
experimentation and they wiped his mind before he came
back...."
The voices trailed off, but not before the damage was done.
Obi- Wan didn't know what to feel. Outraged? What right did
anyone have to make his life the subject of idle gossip and
speculation?
His head hurt.
Others walked past, perhaps it was mealtime although Obi-Wan
had no particular desire to eat anything. The Council had
instructed him to stay close to the Chambers while they
discussed his 'predicament' as they so eloquently put it, and
Obi-Wan found that the endless monotony of the corridors was
wearing on him. And while he hadn't been explicitly forbidden
to meet with people, Obi-Wan knew that his interaction with
others wasn't encouraged. He was tainted.
The part of his mind that was stuck in the past ached for
Qui-Gon and the comfort his former master could give him. The
new Obi-Wan wasn't so sure. Qui-Gon was the only person in the
galaxy he felt he could trust and at the same time, he was the
last person Obi-Wan wanted to harm. Still, it didn't stop him
wanting to run to Qui- Gon and bury himself in his arms, safe
from the darkness and the monsters. Once, a long time ago on a
stormy world, Qui-Gon had promised to always protect him from
the dark.
Obi-Wan had learnt the hard way that such promises were
inevitably broken.
Another group passed him and this time the stares were obvious.
He recognised a few of the group: they had been classmates of
his but the stark realisation that shocked him was the absence
of their padawan braids. Many were now Jedi Knights. It wasn't
fair.
"Don't talk to him!" he heard the fragment of the conversation,
punctuated by an elbow in the ribs of the unfortunate young
Knight. Obi-Wan lifted his head to meet the eyes of Bant, his
one-time best friend. The young woman could withstand his gaze
only a moment before she deliberately drew up the hood of her
cloak, obscuring much of her face and her large eyes.
"What's wrong with me?" Obi-Wan whispered, knowing that she
wouldn't hear him as she hurried to catch up with her friends.
He kept walking, his bare feet sinking into the plush carpeting
of this corridor, one of the nicer areas.
Irrationally, he wished for boots. But there was no one who
would be looking out for him in such a manner as to provide for
him, if this solitary walk proved anything it proved he was
alone. Qui- Gon's cloak dragged on the floor behind him and
Obi-Wan wondered how long it would be before he had to return
it.
The light on the roof above him flickered out. Obi-Wan glanced
up at it, this part of the corridor was suddenly in shadow and
he shivered at the sensation of coming home.
His head hurt.
A single apprentice wookiee passed him, deliberately avoiding
even looking at Obi-Wan. An illogical urge to grab the padawan
surged through Obi-Wan, he wanted to be acknowledged! He was a
person and he was alive, he wasn't a ghost any more than
he was a memory. He was here, breathing, and he deserved a
future.
Almost as if he sensed the murderous thoughts, the wookiee
hurried on and Obi-Wan sighed sadly, resignation sweeping over
him. He took another step and another. The next light went out.
He ignored it, perhaps there were power fluctuations or a
faulty connection might have finally corroded through. Again
his mind replayed the events of the previous day, the only day
he could remember. In the morning he'd been a hopeful
apprentice, by the evening he'd become a failure and there was
nothing in the space of those between hours but a damnable
swing.
Obi-Wan shivered, knowing that he never wanted to go near the
gardens again. The next light went out as he passed beneath it.
Obi-Wan whirled, staring accusingly at the roof. Four lights
were out now, in a row that seemed to mock him. He closed his
eyes and attempted to calm his breathing, perhaps his own
negative thoughts were sucking Force energies from the lights.
Yet there was no sense of the Force at all; the typical
sensations were tightly locked down within him. Nothing had
escaped, he was sure of it.
Now walking backwards, Obi-Wan took another step. The expected
incursion of shadows did nothing to calm his fears. Five lights
out now, and then six, and suddenly he was running as fast as
he could in an attempt to escape the darkness that was surely
stalking him.
With every step another light went out, softly, quietly, the
brilliance simply evaporating as the lost Jedi passed beneath
them. Obi-Wan reached the end of the corridor and pounded into
the wall, breathing heavily, tears burning at the corners of
his eyes. He refused to look around at the frightening
evidence, if he could just hug the wall forever then maybe he
would never have to face anything again.
But he had to turn, and when he did, he was faced with the
stark reality of a black corridor stretching before him into
eternity.
"No," Obi-Wan whispered, balling his hands into fists and
fighting the truth before him. An overwhelming sense of despair
washed over him and he sank to his knees, again murmuring,
"No."
The Jedi Council found him in that position two hours later,
still repeating the word "No," over and over without end. And
when they did find him, the lights were blazing.
"I must see him," Qui-Gon demanded, frowning with the famed
gravity that caused even the most experienced of padawans, and
a good many Knights and Masters, to flinch under the gaze.
"Not possible," reiterated Yoda.
"Kenobi is tainted by darkness," Mace Windu said evenly,
steepling his fingers together as he surveyed his associate.
"He is a danger to both himself and others. We cannot allow him
to expose others to the fear he holds within him and that
includes you."
"We must expose his fear for what it is and assist him in
facing the darkness. Only through this can it be conquered,"
added Ki- Adi-Mundi.
"But surely I can be of some comfort!" Qui-Gon protested, only
to be met by several shaking heads.
"To comfort the boy would only set him back," explained Mace.
"He must not avoid his fear. He must face it and in facing it,
we are confident that his memories will return."
"Only then can we assess his capability to become a Jedi."
Qui-Gon's jaw dropped at the statement. "You mean to tell me
that you are considering removing Obi-Wan from the Jedi Order?"
"If the Force deems so, then yes," Yoda said gravely as he
soberly nodded. "Sense a dark future, I do."
Almost speechless with outrage, Qui-Gon retorted, "How can you
take from Obi-Wan the one hope he has left? How can he
be expected to conquer his fear if he has nothing to hold
onto?"
Impassive faces met his outburst. "That is the greatest
challenge of all," Mace granted. "If he succeeds then he is
obviously one with the light side of the Force."
Snorting in disgust, Qui-Gon said, "This is more difficult than
the Trials. It's almost impossible and I demand that you return
Obi- Wan to me. I will assist him in his search for his memory
and we will succeed."
"Obi-Wan is not yours, Qui-Gon. Your formal partnership was
dissolved quite some time ago," reminded Mace with a steely
gaze.
For the thousandth time, Qui-Gon felt as if he wanted to kick
some sense into his old friend. The Council - they seemed to be
detached from the human condition and it was beyond
frustrating. How many lives had been hurt by the Council's
inability to accept a perspective other than their own? And
this time it was Obi-Wan's life in the balance, a life Qui-Gon
had sworn to protect.
He had to be rational. He focussed on Yoda, knowing that if
anyone would understand his side of things it would be his
former master. "There is the training bond." Qui-Gon swallowed,
being diplomatic was always inherently difficult in the face of
such irrational opposition. "The bond still exists - our minds
rejoined the moment he returned."
"A training bond cannot survive such a separation," said Eeth
grimly.
"I think you will find you are mistaken," Qui-Gon quickly
countered. "The bond with Obi-Wan does indeed exist."
"Feel him now, do you?"
That caused Qui-Gon to pause. There was the ever-present sense
of aliveness in the place where the bond began, but besides
that - there was nothing. His eyes flew open as he realised the
break in the link. "He is shielded from me," he said by way of
explanation.
"As it should be, for he must conquer this alone,
Qui-Gon. If he depends upon you or your link, forever will he
become dependent upon you," offered Mace. He leaned forward,
attempting to connect with Qui-Gon.
"I understand," Qui-Gon granted. "Yet I still fail to see why
Obi- Wan cannot be permitted company. I assure you, I will not
attempt to heal him as I respect your stated wishes. I will
provide comfort, nothing more." Even saying the words pained
Qui-Gon, as he felt driven to help Obi-Wan in every possible
way he could.
"An incident yesterday, there was," Yoda revealed. Qui-Gon
stared hard at Yoda, sensing what no one had dared tell him.
And beyond that....
"You're sending him away!"
"Qui-Gon, the matter is in our hands. You are dismissed."
How could Mace, his friend, be so cold? How could they keep
everything from him? Obi-Wan was his responsibility and
he had a right to know what was happening to the young man.
"Please," he tried one last time, "for my own peace of mind
tell me what is going to happen to him."
"He is being taken to a place strong in the Force where he may
face his fears. That is all you may know," Mace granted. When
Qui-Gon still refused to move, he got to his feet. "Don't make
me have to remove you from this room."
Qui-Gon met his gaze, staring evenly for a long moment. He
wasn't backing down, but in a room full of the most powerful
Jedi of the Order, it was foolish to resist. Not saying
anything, Qui-Gon bowed yet there was no respect whatsoever in
the motion, and Qui- Gon knew that his discourtesy would have
unfortunate future repercussions.
He did not care. He strode from the room, feeling so angry and
frustrated that he could hardly see the corridor before him,
knowing that once again he had failed to help Obi-Wan and Force
be damned if he was going to do nothing.
Only the warning tingle in his mind slowed his steps, Yoda,
projecting sympathy and a gentle reminder that anger was the
path to Darkness. He should accept what was.
It didn't stop Qui-Gon from returning to his - and Obi-Wan's -
rooms and packing his possessions in preparation to find and
follow his former padawan. Was it guilt which drove him? he
found himself wondering. Partially, yes. But in addition to
that guilt he cared for Obi-Wan a great deal, more than anyone
else he knew, in fact. It did not matter to him that Obi-Wan
was a changed man, because part of his soul recognised
something, knew something, and knew that the bond between them
was right, both in the past, present and the future.
He could not accept the Council's wisdom when someone he loved
was hurting so much.
Obi-Wan opened his eyes, confused. Everything around him seemed
to be shaking, the floor itself was tilting at an impossible
angle as the ship's stabilisers struggled to cope. His hands
flailed to catch on to something but no purchase was found and
Obi-Wan thudded heavily into the wall.
The wall. Of the docking bay. Right next to the bay's
decompression controls. Obi-Wan shook his head, trying to erase
the fogginess and the terrible dread that was settling over his
heart because he had absolutely no idea of how he had
come to be here.
The last he remembered was retiring to his small room onboard
Eeth Koth's private ship after another day in session with the
master and Master Yoda. They seemed no closer to finding a
solution to the hole in his mind, so the two Jedi had been
tutoring him on relaxation techniques and higher forms of
meditation.
Nothing had helped. Five days into the journey and Obi-Wan was
still at a loss to explain what had happened to him. The
headaches came frequently, and the fear never quite left him,
and all the while there was the dreadful sense of urgency
beneath everything else which told him that if he didn't
understand the truth soon, he would... He would what? Obi-Wan
didn't quite know, but he sensed that his fate would be very
dark indeed.
A dark fate. Perhaps he had been programmed to be an agent of
the Dark Side. It certainly seemed possible as the ship
shuddered again and Obi-Wan took full stock of his position. He
had been next to the controls which would have expelled all air
from the docking bay, thus destabilising the entire ship and
quite possibly destroying it.
The panic rose within him again and he closed his eyes,
focussing on his breathing as Yoda had taught him. He was okay.
He was alive. He was living in the moment, he was in full
control, and he was not suicidal even though his actions
seemed to suggest that, actions of which he had no memory.
It was another blackout, and Obi-Wan was suddenly struck by a
feeling of horror. What if more time had passed? What if he
were now twenty-six years old and had been gone again? What if
this sort of thing was going to happen for the rest of his
life? He couldn't take it, and perhaps it would have been
better if the airlock had opened and he'd been sucked out into
the oblivion of space. He was quite positive that there would
be no Qui-Gon to save him now, if Qui-Gon had ever even saved
him. He missed his former master desperately but had been told
by Eeth that he had to move on with his life.
Move on with his life - what a statement that made. As far as
he knew, he no longer controlled his own life and therefore how
could he be expected to deal with emotions and events in a
rational manner? Perhaps he should trust the darkness which
lurked, embrace it, and meet his destiny....
"Obi-Wan!"
Almost blind with panic, Obi-Wan instinctively turned to face
the voice. "What year is it?" he gasped.
Yoda shuffled forward, bracing himself as the ship's internal
gravity fluctuated momentarily. "Encountered a minefield, we
have. The ship has left hyperspace but some damage was done." A
whirring as the air recyclers clicked back on - Obi-Wan hadn't
even noticed that they had stopped functioning and that was a
very dangerous thing indeed for any Jedi. If he even was a
Jedi.
"What year is it?" he managed again, even as the rational part
of his mind noted that Yoda's appearance was the same and his
own body had the same feel about it as he remembered.
Yoda told him, his ears drooping sadly, and Obi-Wan was
relieved to hear that apparently he'd only lost a few hours.
"Why are you here?"
"I-" And Obi-Wan paused, torn with indecision. Was it better to
admit his failure to Yoda and jeopardise his future by proving
the dark taint, or should he hide it? But to hide the truth was
akin to lying, which was the path to the dark side regardless.
"I don't know," he admitted. He sank to his knees. "Master
Yoda, I don't know! I remember retiring to bed and then the
ship shook and I woke up here."
His hands came up to cover his face. "What's wrong with me?"
Yoda shuffled forwards, leaning heavily onto his cane until he
was mere inches from Obi-Wan's face. "Look at me, you will."
Obi-Wan could not refuse. He met the wizened eyes, seeing
compassion, pity and strength. "You must be strong, Obi-Wan.
Create your own future, you do."
"Are you saying that I did this deliberately?"
Yoda closed his eyes, seemingly reaching out with the Force.
"Difficult to see," he said. "You must trust your feelings." A
hand crept out to touch his shoulder and Obi-Wan leaned into
it, the simple touch once again grounding him in reality.
"I am trying so hard, Master Yoda," he said sadly, "but nothing
I do seems to make any difference. Not even the entire Council
could help!" A shudder passed through his body as he remembered
the first few days on Coruscant, after Qui-Gon had found him.
Even though he knew the Council had his best interests at
heart, it still felt as if his mind had been shredded as they
probed every tiny spark of memory, of life, that was Obi-Wan in
a mad search for the key to unlock the mystery of the missing
time.
And it had hurt.
A pulse of healing came through the contact point between
himself and Yoda, it soothed the memory. "Sorry for your pain,
I am," Yoda said. "Necessary it was."
"I understand, Master."
Yoda sighed, staring intently at Obi-Wan. "Tomorrow we reach
our destination."
"Will I find healing there?" Obi-Wan was hopeful, almost
desperately so, for it was his last resort.
Yet Yoda did not respond. He turned, muttering, "Rest, we must.
Come."
Obi-Wan followed, and when he had returned to his room, he
locked the door shut and thanked the Force for the mine field
which had knocked him out of his sleepwalk. He then placed a
chair against the door as a barrier, but in his heart, he did
not believe that anything could truly stop the darkness or the
horror of his own mind.
And in the darkest hour of his sleep, he felt a presence. "Obi-
Wan?" it asked softly, serenely, it was a gentle brush against
his mind. It brought him comfort, it reminded him of home, if
he even had a home in the universe. He smiled, knowing that
there was somewhere he belonged.
Dagobah. Of course Yoda would take Obi-Wan to Dagobah, Qui-Gon
realised, as the direction of the trail he was following became
apparent. It was a place which strongly pulsed with the Force
through the sheer amount of life on the planet. It was a place
strongly allied with both light and dark, dependent upon one's
mood and the inclination of the local trees. It was a terrible
and good planet at the same time.
Qui-Gon reached out along his link with Obi-Wan, smiling at the
familiar brush of Obi-Wan's mind. He doubted Obi-Wan was aware
of his presence, and he also feared that Obi-Wan would reject
his advances had he known of them. Qui-Gon reflected that the
new Obi- Wan, like the old, had already proven himself to be
honourable and protective during those few short hours they'd
had together.
He missed him. Qui-Gon wanted to get to know Obi-Wan, he wanted
friendship and comfort and love which the bond between them
hinted of, and which surely the Force decreed was right. Yet
they were separated by an event which was no one's fault, and
Qui-Gon knew they could never come together until Obi-Wan had
accepted and conquered the incident.
Touching a control switch, Qui-Gon smiled as Obi-Wan's
holographic image sprung from the counter. This, taken from a
security camera in the Jedi Temple, along with his own
memories, were all he had of the adult Obi-Wan. He found
himself studying the younger man in detail, knowing that
appearances did not matter, but fascinated nonetheless. He
ruthlessly quashed the spark of desire that tugged at the very
edge of his mind. There were hundreds of beings who considered
Obi-Wan extremely good looking and the last thing Obi- Wan
needed was to have Qui-Gon on that list. Never mind that he was
a Jedi Master and should not be lusting after someone half his
age. Someone whom he loved.
Qui-Gon closed his eyes and again brushed against Obi-Wan's
mind, sensing that the younger man was sleeping. They connected
best when Obi-Wan was slumbering, during the day the presence
of Eeth and to a lesser extent, Yoda were so prevalent in
Obi-Wan's mind that Qui-Gon knew even the merest touch would be
detected. Such a revelation would result in the immediate
condemnation of Qui-Gon after being so explicitly ordered to
stay away, but it was an order he could not follow.
"You will heal, Obi-Wan," he whispered, hoping Obi-Wan could
hear him. "You will discover what has happened and you will
conquer it. You will conquer it."
A sigh of contentment whispered back along their bond.
"I will train you to Knighthood. This I promise you." It was a
promise Qui-Gon intended to keep regardless of what happened on
Dagobah. Even if Yoda and Eeth decided that Obi-Wan was not for
the Order, Qui-Gon would train him. It was the least he could
do for his failure to keep Obi-Wan safe.
Obi-Wan slipped deeper into sleep and Qui-Gon reflected that
perhaps he should do the same. It would require the most alert
of minds when he finally arrived at Dagobah to shield both
himself and the hired ship whilst being as close to Obi-Wan as
was possible. He wanted to be right there if Obi-Wan
needed him, or the more optimistic point of view, he wanted to
be there the moment Yoda declared Obi-Wan a Jedi and contact
was once again permitted.
After checking the autopilot one last time, Qui-Gon leaned back
in his chair and succumbed to sleep.
The tree.
It loomed before Obi-Wan, by all appearances it was a normal,
hollow trunk, but his Force sensitivity told him otherwise. He
shot a fearful glance back at Eeth and Yoda and the two Jedi
Masters merely folded their arms and regarded him impassively.
A Jedi does not fear, Obi-Wan told himself over and over, but
fear was the overriding emotion he'd known of late and this
tree, pulsating so blatantly with darkness, heightened his fear
to a new elevation.
"Master Yoda, must I?" he asked, already knowing the answer. He
also knew that this, the tree, was his last resort. If he could
not conquer it then surely he would succumb to the madness. Or
perhaps he would discover his true destiny within the tree: it
had the potential to unlock the dark side within a person and
convert them to an agent of evil.
In the past, once-pure Jedi had been slain by their comrades
upon leaving the tree.
Obi-Wan could only hope that it wouldn't happen to him.
Wild eyed, he glanced around again, longing for something,
anything, to get him out of the trial which lay ahead. He could
not even sense the comforting presence which occasionally
hovered at the edge of his mind, something he imagined to be
Qui-Gon. Obi- Wan understood the Jedi Council's request to keep
him away from Qui-Gon, the last thing Obi-Wan wanted to do was
corrupt his former master and friend as he had possibly
corrupted others, but he still longed for the comfort of
someone who cared for him. Someone who'd treat him as something
other than a specimen to be purged of darkness.
As the thought crossed his mind he looked back, musing that the
reflection wasn't entirely true. Yoda had been kind. Yet it was
a kindness mixed with the steely determination of a Master who
had seen much suffering in the past near-millennium and cared
for all beings, not just one.
The tree beckoned.
"What will I find in there?" Obi-Wan asked.
"Only that which you take with you," replied Yoda, and Obi-Wan
knew he should not have expected a more concrete answer.
"I take my memories with me," he declared, falsifying boldness.
"I take all of my memories."
Nothing but intent stares met his words. Obi-Wan sighed,
twining his braid around his fingers in a nervous gesture. "I
will go."
He turned and stepped forward. It almost sounded like the tree
laughed, but it was nothing more than the wild call of a swamp
creature. Obi-Wan sucked in a deep breath, the fetid scent of
the swamp paling in comparison to what the tree promised. He
swallowed his fear, whispered goodbye to all sanity and
rational thought and Qui-Gon in the same moment, and stepped
forward again to accept his fate.
Once through the opening Obi-Wan could see that the tree opened
up into some kind of cave. Whether it was a true cave or some
Force distortion he could not be sure, either was equally as
frightening. It stretched beyond him forever.
"I am here to recover my memories," Obi-Wan called into the
darkness. "I am not afraid." The answering silence mocked him.
Could the truth be found there, or was it within himself? More
steps forward into the all consuming darkness and he could no
longer see the exit, he could not even be sure that the exit
even existed. Surrounded by inky blackness, the wild idea
crossed his mind that he had always been in such a place and
Yoda, Qui-Gon, the Jedi, were nothing more than figments of his
imagination.
He breathed.
A plethora of images suddenly surrounded him, of the past, the
present, and a multitude of possible futures or destinies. He
saw an old, grey Obi-Wan sitting on the Jedi Council yet just
as he reached for the image, it vanished to be replaced with a
funeral pyre of an Obi-Wan his own age. Even worse, an Obi-Wan
slit open from shoulder to hip, lying on the ground with blood
foaming from his mouth as a red and black creature stood above
him, laughing.
Old Obi-Wan shuffling through a desert, watching over a young
man of approximately 20 years of age. Middle-aged Obi-Wan in
formal robes at a wedding of a similar young man and woman he
did not recognise. Qui-Gon rejecting Obi-Wan, casting him out
of the Jedi. A young girl whispering, "my Master," her eyes
filled with hero- worship.
Obi-Wan leaving the tree, his eyes blazing darkness and fury,
and Eeth ignited his lightsaber and sliced off his head.
Obi-Wan making love to Qui-Gon, a tangle of sweaty limbs. Being
Knighted by Yoda. Older Obi-Wan carrying a baby away from a
blazing palace. And the Obi-Wan as he was today, laughing,
standing atop the ruins of the Jedi Temple and proclaiming
allegiance to the Sith....
He whirled away from his doppelganger and the images faded,
leaving him confused and troubled by what he'd seen. Which of
the possible futures were real? All of them? None of them?
Which did he want to be real?
"I want to feel the light side of the Force," Obi-Wan whispered
to reassure himself. Again it was dark, black, silent save for
the eerie creaking noise that sent a tingling down his spine
because he knew that sound. He knew it intimately.
The dimmest of lights began to diffuse the darkness and Obi-Wan
peered forward, terrified of what he would see, knowing exactly
what it was. First the ropes filtered into view, and then the
seat, rocking backwards and forward accompanied by the eerie,
unending creaking.
The swing. The damnable swing. And even as he stared, a ghostly
figure upon it appeared, becoming more substantial with each
oscillation. Although the person's back was to him, Obi-Wan
recognised himself instantly.
"Hello, Obi-Wan," said the figure, the voice hollow and empty.
Obi-Wan found he could not answer.
"You seek the truth. I am the truth. I am the other half of
your mind and in me are all the answers." A pause, punctuated
by more creaking as the swing rocked back and forwards. "All
you have to do is embrace me."
"Embrace you?"
"Yes," said that oddly calm, familiar voice. "I am everything
you are not; I am your weird brother hidden inside. Only
together we can be whole." The other Obi-Wan turned to face
him, and Obi-Wan gasped. The man stood tall, proudly, aware of
his beauty as he arrogantly lifted his own padawan braid and
ripped it from his head. "We do not need this. We are stronger
without it."
The dark creature sauntered forwards, swinging his hips, and a
stray ray of light caught the inky black orbs which were his
eyes. "Come to me, Obi-Wan," he hissed.
The swing still rocked.
Obi-Wan knew he was looking at absolute evil.
His doppelganger opened his arms for the embrace, smiling, and
it seemed as if saliva dripped from the mouth in delicious
anticipation. "Love me." It threatened to consume him whole.
Indecision waged a war inside Obi-Wan. The part of him that was
so scared of everything that had happened since his awakening
wanted to run screaming forever and forget this had ever
happened. The rest of him knew that if he was ever going to
conquer the darkness, he had to embrace it, yet there were no
guarantees he could be saved.
Holding an image of Qui-Gon in his mind, the only person he
associated wholly with lightness and good, Obi-Wan stepped
forward.
He let the evil hands come up to his head and tug him forwards
to that waiting mouth in a parody of an intimate kiss. The
fetid breath of not-Obi-Wan passed into him and he spasmed at
the invasion, now the darkness was crawling within him
as well. Perhaps it had always been there.
He bore it stoicly as the lips melded with his own, feeling an
infusion of sorts as the other Obi-Wan exhaled, a deathly kiss
which lasted forever. Images, feelings, dark, racing
into him and consuming him, until finally the flow stopped, and
the reverse began.
His head feeling light, Obi-Wan opened his eyes to see the dark
creature watching him, hands holding him so tightly that he
could not escape even if he wanted to. And he did want to, he
had to get away as he realised, in horror, that his
doppelganger was now sucking the light out of him. "No,"
he managed to moan against the mouth and the grip of the hands
on his head grew stronger, crushing his face to the other.
No! his mind shrieked as he struggled to get away, his hands
and legs flailing but to no avail. He felt something rip at his
head and noticed almost numbly that his braid had been torn
away; sticky blood now trickled from its former position.
Absolute terror coursed through him: the braid had been his
last connection to the Jedi way of life and now it was gone.
His last connection to Qui- Gon.... Master! It was a mental
shriek more than anything else and Obi-Wan's last resort, the
only thing he could cling to as the monster raped his mind and
body.
And following the shriek came a wave of support and love,
enough for Obi-Wan to tear himself away from the beast that
wasn't him anymore and ignite his lightsaber. Clinging to the
touch of Qui- Gon in his mind, Obi-Wan desperately plunged the
blade forward and not-Obi-Wan screamed. The eyes changed from
black to blue-green and a pained smile drifted over the face.
"You killed us both..." he whispered, slumped to the ground,
and vanished.
Obi-Wan stood there, stunned, breathing heavily, dimly aware of
the fact that his head was bleeding and that he should leave,
but part of him was elated for he had won. He'd won, he'd
beaten the dark creature, he'd proven he wasn't evil.
And the swing creaked.
And he screamed.
Qui-Gon burst through the forest, clearly shocking the breath
out of Eeth. Yoda merely turned to greet him calmly and said,
"Expecting you, I was."
Qui-Gon didn't dignify the statement with a response. "Obi-Wan
needs me," he gasped, taking quick stock of the surroundings
and the tree. "I must go to him."
Yoda sagely lifted one hand. "Wait. He must finish this
himself."
"No," protested Qui-Gon, a chill coursing through him as he
heard the anguished scream of his former padawan. He pushed
forwards past the two Jedi and closer to the tree. "I heard him
call for me. You must let me help him!" He wasn't going
to lose Obi-Wan again, he'd already been through that hell and
he knew he could not endure such a loss again. If Obi-Wan died,
Qui-Gon silently vowed that he would never take another
padawan, and he would never let anyone get close to him again.
It hurt too much. And if that was the only lesson the past five
years taught him, it was enough.
To be in a world without light, without love, would be tragic
indeed, yet Qui-Gon knew he would endure it as best he could
because he did not want to be hurt again, and he did not want
to betray Obi-Wan's memory. To hold Obi-Wan in his heart would
be enough - it had to be enough! For there was now no sound at
all to be heard, nothing along their bond, just emptiness, and
the evil tree loomed beyond.
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon whispered, wondering why the pain was
suddenly different, it seemed to attack him from more angles
than the pain of the loss of his padawan. The pain whispered to
him that there was something more, something intangible at
present, yet it promised sweetly in his ear and heart...if only
Obi-Wan was alive.
And to his complete and utter surprise, Obi-Wan emerged from
the tree-cave. Scratches covered his body, chunks of his hair
had been torn out, and his robe was soiled and dirty. Yet he
stood tall and proud, there was a steadfast serenity in his
eyes as he nodded his head in greeting. "Masters," he said
evenly. He lived.
"Obi-Wan!" gasped Qui-Gon, grasping Obi-Wan's shoulders gently
and intently studying the face he knew and loved. "Are you all
right?" He reached for their bond, only to find Obi-Wan shying
away from his mind touch.
"I have been better," Obi-Wan managed a wry smile, "but yes, I
am all right." Pulling away from Qui-Gon he knelt before Yoda
and Eeth. "I have conquered the darkness, Masters," he said.
Yoda surveyed him seriously. "Defeated it, you have," he
finally granted. "Knew you would, I did." The barest hint of a
mischievous smile crossed Yoda's face before he turned,
beckoning to Eeth to accompany him, leaving Obi-Wan alone with
Qui-Gon.
Obi-Wan shot a troubled glance back at the tree. "I should feel
better if we leave this place," he murmured and Qui-Gon quickly
agreed. Despite the fact that Obi-Wan had survived, the tree
was still strong with the Dark side and the tendrils pulsed
through the Force, reaching for those nearby. Qui-Gon
suppressed the urge to shiver, feeling glad Yoda had never
presented him with the Test of the Tree.
They chose a random direction which took them alongside the
swamp, yet it was an alive swamp and pleasant to look at; a
welcome change. Neither said anything for a long time.
Finally, Qui-Gon paused. "Your head," he said, lightly touching
the soft hair yet careful to keep his distance from the
strange, silent man. "I fear that a stray leaf or branch might
catch on the wound and cause it to re-open. Will you allow me
to heal it?"
Obi-Wan stopped by way of acquiescence. Concentrating on the
task, Qui-Gon gently placed a hand above the wound where the
braid had been and sent healing energies, extending his use of
the Force to cover other minor abrasions too. Obi-Wan accepted
this, his eyes wide open.
"Thank you, Master," he said when Qui-Gon was finished.
"You are most welcome...Padawan?" The term was a question,
because from all appearances, Obi-Wan had torn out his own
braid and to do such a thing meant the rejection of the Jedi
way of life. The thought pained Qui-Gon. To lose now through
choice was almost incomprehensible.
Obi-Wan sighed. "I do not know," he admitted. "The Council may
not permit me to rejoin the Order."
Qui-Gon was stunned at how calm, how distant Obi-Wan was being
about all of this. Was he in shock? Or was it something more?
"Obi-Wan, tell me," he implored. "What did you learn in the
cave?"
Swallowing hard, Obi-Wan tugged on Qui-Gon's arm and pulled him
over to a large rock, upon which they both sat. Obi-Wan stared
straight ahead as he began to speak, his hands clenched
together in his lap. "I learnt that I need you in my life," he
admitted. "Perhaps it is a weakness of mine, but only by
calling to you did I have the strength to...." His voice
trailed off and his eyes clouded as he relived the horror.
"Thank you, Qui-Gon."
"I did nothing more than send support through our bond,"
Qui-Gon hastily reassured. "It was you who did the work,
you who conquered your fear."
"Then why am I still so afraid?" The voice sounded oh so young,
so innocent, as if it were a child sitting next to Qui-Gon. He
noticed that Obi-Wan was trembling. Wanted to reach out to him,
but didn't dare.
"Obi-Wan, tell me what's wrong."
And in response, Obi-Wan whirled to face him and threw himself
into Qui-Gon's arms, holding him so close, still shaking
violently. As his arms automatically closing around the younger
man's back, Qui- Gon soothed, "Everything is all right,
Obi-Wan. Just close your eyes and rest in me."
Obi-Wan did so for a long, long while as Qui-Gon stroked his
back, comforting him as if he were a small child again and
perhaps it was exactly the comfort Obi-Wan needed. It was a
second homecoming, one that spoke of the trust that now and
forevermore bound them together.
"It will take time for you to accept what has happened, but I
will be here for you," Qui-Gon promised when Obi-Wan's
trembling finally subsided.
A head lifted from his chest to look at him directly, and a
thousand emotions swirled in the blue-green eyes. "You don't
understand," he said dully.
Qui-Gon stared at him blankly, not daring to probe their bond.
Already, his mental support for Obi-Wan had done damage despite
the fact of his good intentions. It was not right that Obi-Wan
should rely on him so, yet he was oddly comforted by the
notion. He also knew that he had to listen to Obi-Wan
now, no matter how painful the truth was to hear. "Tell
me, Obi-Wan," he invited. "Tell me so that I can understand.
The tree, the cave-"
Shaking his head violently, Obi-Wan protested, "It's not that!
The tree was a means of facing my fear, nothing else.
Despite the promises of Master Eeth, it did not return to me
what I had lost."
"Obi-Wan," protested Qui-Gon, "it did. You have found
yourself, I sensed it the moment you left the tree. You are in
control of yourself and your emotions - the dark cannot take
you-" A sharp intake of breath caused him to break off.
"Don't you understand?" Obi-Wan burst out. He was crying now,
tears pouring from his frightened eyes. "I don't know what
happened to me and I never will!"
"There is still...?" Qui-Gon dispensed with words and felt bold
enough to reach into Obi-Wan's mind, knowing that he was
needed. He tread lightly through the new-found peace and the
even newer confusion, down to the layer of memory. The hole
remained.
"It doesn't matter," Qui-Gon whispered into his hair. He held
Obi- Wan close, feeling relieved that Obi-Wan had finally
dispensed with the struggle for serenity and let go. The
younger man sobbed into his shoulder, pouring out his
frustration and agony and despair which Qui-Gon accepted, and
in doing so, diminished. "The memories are not important,
Obi-Wan," he repeated, hoping Obi-Wan would believe him. "The
incident in the cave proved that you are not tainted, therefore
the past is only that: the past.
"We must live in the moment," continued Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan was
still crying, but it seemed the tears were lessening somewhat.
"I grieve with you for your loss and at the same time, I look
forward to the new memories you will create. Every instant of
every day grants us the chance to experience the wonder of
life, we can appreciate the world or do something meaningful.
The past does not matter," he reiterated.
Finally, Obi-Wan's tears subsided. "Do you really mean that?"
he asked, the aftermath of crying causing small sobs to break
up his speech.
"With all of my heart," Qui-Gon declared. "It is you who
is important to me, not your past. I will always cherish our
early years together and I do regret the time you were not with
me, but believe me when I tell you this, Obi-Wan, those missing
years just are. They aren't good, neither are they bad."
"They just - happened," Obi-Wan concluded for him. He noticed
the wet patch on Qui-Gon's shoulder and looked faintly
embarrassed. "Here I am, twenty-one years old, and crying like
a child."
"Sometimes we need to cry, my Obi-Wan." The endearment caught
them both by surprise and Qui-Gon realised that his arms were
still wrapped - rather tightly - around Obi-Wan's body, as were
Obi-Wan's arms wrapped around his. Qui-Gon managed a half grin.
"It seems were are still bound to one another, Master," Obi-Wan
said lightly and Qui-Gon was gratified to see the smile on the
young man's face.
"Indeed we are."
The trip back to Coruscant was a decidedly happier affair than
the trip out. For one thing, Yoda and Eeth had elected to leave
ahead of Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, something which caused Obi-Wan to
remark that he was sure Eeth and Yoda would find plenty of
excitement in each other's company. Qui-Gon had responded with
a teasing reprimand.
There was much light banter between the pair now that the heavy
issues had finally come to light and been discussed. Obi-Wan
knew it would take him a while to fully accept the truth that
he would probably never know what had happened to him, but with
Qui-Gon as his master and friend he felt confident that he
would not only survive, but succeed.
His friend. The early days were very much about friendship,
learning about the other person all over again. Obi-Wan
reflected that Qui-Gon hadn't really changed at all, or perhaps
it was the return of his padawan that caused him to revert back
to the kind, gentle and just a little rebellious man he always
was.
However, Obi-Wan recognised changes within himself: no longer a
laughing, dancing padawan, he had matured into a man more
subdued and cautious but still possessive of a wry sense of
humour. Obi- Wan was never more glad when Qui-Gon said to him,
in all seriousness one night, that he enjoyed the adult
Obi-Wan's company even more so than he'd loved the company of
the child.
It had been a wonderful moment between them.
"Master!" exclaimed Obi-Wan, the excitement in his voice
obvious as he looked up from the communique. "The Council has
granted you permission to train me."
It was the last day of travel and the agonising wait for
official word of their status had been weighing heavily on both
minds. Qui- Gon immediately dropped the report he was making
and read the message over Obi-Wan's shoulder, a smile breaking
out over his face as he did so.
"Well, then, it seems that you have been right and I have been
wrong."
"In what manner, Master?"
There was a twinkle in Qui-Gon's eyes. "You have been calling
me 'Master' all this time, but I am afraid I have been remiss
in calling you padawan...Padawan."
To finally hear the word was a joy to both of them. Obi-Wan
spun around and his eyes, too, were shining. "There is just one
thing missing," Qui-Gon continued.
Obi-Wan watched as Qui-Gon reached to his own head and, using
the Force, disconnected a lock of hair which he quickly plaited
into a braid. "Padawan?" he asked, Obi-Wan's smile granting him
all the permission he would ever need.
He very gently attached the new braid to the side of Obi-Wan's
head, not quite in the position of the old one but a little
higher, knowing that Obi-Wan's own hair would grow in time. But
this braid would do for now.
"Thank you, Master," Obi-Wan said, his voice coloured with
sincerity and love. He closed his eyes, opening his mind fully
to his master as he was now permitted, and felt a wave of
admiration and love come over him, decorated with the vibrancy
of the Force. It was a true bond.
He reached out and pulled Qui-Gon into a tight embrace, knowing
without needing to check that Qui-Gon was there in front of
him, and the return of the hug was a promise of fervent nature.
Something new and strange pulsed between them and it was right.
A blissful smile drifted over Obi-Wan's face as he realised
that many years lay ahead of them during which they could
explore the bond and all the possibilities it promised. But for
now, after five long years, he had finally come home.
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