My first Star Wars fanfic! A little one-shot that was inspired by a sentence I read somewhere.
Jedi Temple, during the Clone Wars.
"I still think I should go with you, Master."
Obi-Wan paused in the act of filling up his traveling bag to sigh and turn his head around to face his obstinate Padawan.
"We've been through this many times already, Anakin. This is a solo mission that requires the skill of a Jedi Master." Foreseeing a retort before Anakin even opened his mouth, he hastily added, "No, I don't doubt your ability, Anakin. I'd love to bring you along -" Anakin raised an unbelieving eyebrow. "– but you aren't qualified for this mission. It's too dangerous, and that's final." He resumed his methodical packing of supplies.
Medpac, check.
Datachips, check.
Ration bars, check.
Civilian disguise, check.
Anakin paced the living room, arms crossed tightly behind his back like he did when he was agitated, thinking, or, as in more recent months, briefing soldiers.
He reached a wall and turned abruptly to address his Master again.
"I don't see why this has to be a solo mission. You could do with someone to watch your back." Anakin paused, then said: "Need I remind you about the seven times I've needed to rescue you so far?"
Obi-Wan was about to grant himself permission to roll his eyes when he noticed a lack of lightness in Anakin's tone. Odd. Actually, a lot of things were odd about his Padawan today, now that he thought about it. Anakin didn't usually try quite this hard to get his way with something. Something was out of place, but Obi-Wan was expected at the hanger bay soon and he didn't want to tarry, so he brushed that thread of thought off.
"I appreciate your…concern, Anakin, but for the last time, I am going alone. Infiltration is best suited for one person. Besides, subtlety isn't one of your strengths. You know that." He zipped up the full bag. Hefting it up over his shoulders, he added with a wry grin, "And it's six times, my young Padawan, not seven. Not to mention that was usually your reckless actions that landed me in the position of needing to be rescued."
Expecting a playful verbal jab in return, Obi-Wan was reasonably surprised when his ever-disobedient Padawan lowered his head, for once looking appropriately schooled and ashamed. The last time he had sincerely acted so humble was…further back than Obi-Wan could recall.
Dropping his grin and lowering his bag, Obi-Wan frowned concernedly and asked, "What's wrong? You're not usually this conceding."
Lifting his head up, but still not quite meeting his Master's inquiring eyes, Anakin replied, "Nothing. Alright, I won't bug you anymore. Just…stay alive, Master." He added in a rather forlorn undertone, "Please." It seemed to be more for himself than his Master.
Still not comprehending his Padawan's out-of-sorts behavior, Obi-Wan, never one to give false hope, answered truthfully, "You know I can't promise that."
"Try."
Had his apprentice still not remembered Master Yoda's teaching?
"There is no try."
"Then do it."
Slightly startled by the force behind the last phrase, Obi-Wan set his bag down and took a few steps closer to his Padawan. A fierce fire was evident in the azure eyes.
"Something happened," Obi-Wan stated accusingly.
Little wisps of emtion slipped past the tenous shields from Anakin's side of their Master-Padawan bond.
Fear.
Reluctance.
Foreboding.
Anakin seemed to notice his lapse in concentration, because Obi-Wan felt the shields reinforced and the threads of emotion were blocked. But the damage had already been done, and Obi-Wan furthered his line of interrogation.
"You've had a dream."
Anakin remained silent, but his mental barriers faltered again, this time letting stronger feelings escape. In Obi-Wan's mind, the feelings semi-materialized into shadowy glimpses.
"What was the dream about?" he asked gently.
Anakin didn't answer immedietly. He walked stiffly away from his Master, as if to avoid answering the question, but then about-faced suddenly and said bluntly, "You die."
Oh.
Anakin turned his head slightly so that Obi-Wan couldn't see his expression. "Don't worry, it's probably just a dream. All dreams pass in time, right?" A bitterness in the voice revealed that he didn't believe in what he was saying by the least.
"Anakin, if I do die, you can't do anything about it. It would be my fate –"
"Don't talk to me about fate!" Anakin interrupted harshly. Rather rudely, too, but Obi-Wan could hear the desperation and earnesty in his Padawan's speech that set this interruption apart from others of pure spite and pertinacity, so he let the breach in etiquette go.
"Anakin –"
His Padawan cut him off again. "I don't believe in fate." The statement lacked his usual firmness, though. Bits and pieces of memory flowed out through the Force in an uncontrolled jumble.
A crude gravestone battered by the Tatooine suns.
A dying woman in his arms.
A funeral pyre, fires burning what was left of his only hope in becoming a Jedi–
Obi-Wan's own memories were invoked.
A red barrier – a mundane little piece of technology – stopping him from reaching his Master.
A wicked red energy beam passing through the body of the Jedi he admired most –
He felt his Padawan violently squelch his reminders of the past. Obi-Wan, Jedi Master that he was, opted to release his memories into the Force.
With both himself and his Master firmly rooted in the present again, Anakin took a deep breath and continued.
"There's no such thing as fate. Maybe the Will of the Force. Maybe destiny. Fate? Never."
Obi-Wan attempted to brighten the dark conversation with light teasing. Typically, he wouldn't try to draw attention away from a problem, but Anakin also didn't typically have dreams (visions, maybe?) about his Master's death.
"I wasn't aware that your forthright mind could understand the subtle differences, my young Padawan."
It was their long acquaintance, not the Force, which allowed Obi-Wan to easily read the message that was written in Anakin's disdainful and unimpressed expression.
Abandoning the weak start to banter, Obi-Wan reinstated his serious but compassionate Jedi Master Teaching mode.
"Padawan."
Recognizing the well-known tone, Anakin gave him his undivided attention.
"This is war. People die in war. Jedi die in war. I might die in war –"
"– I won't let you –"
"Anakin. Listen to me, for once." Obi-Wan accented every syllable. "You can't stop people from dying, whatever you might think or try to do. Even if you stick to me like a hovercam, my future, whatever decides it – the Force, destiny, fate, any or all of them – you can't change it. And that's what it means to be a Jedi, Anakin. You have to accept these things.
Obi-Wan eyed his apprentice carefully for reactions. Anakin's head was half-bowed again, leaving only his shadowed eyes available for the Jedi Master's scrutinization.
That was enough for Obi-Wan. Eleven years of being Anakin's Master had trained the latter to read his Padawan's ever-expressive eyes like a datapad.
Now, the blue orbs showed a heartfelt fear for his Master's life, a spot of annoyance at his Master's quiet resignation, and a stubborn denial of his Master's possibly impending death.
Obi-Wan often felt that it was nearly astounding how many precise emotions could fit into Anakin's immeasurable eyes.
Perhaps more astounding was the ease with which the Master could identify them.
Obi-Wan sighed deeply, running a hand through his neatly cut hair. He was running slightly late to his transport, and he didn't want to leave his apprentice brooding at the Temple for days with gloomy thoughts.
"That said, the future's not set in stone either. Just don't go out of your way to try and change it." He checked his chromometer. Blast. He was really running late.
"I'll be going now. Just don't forget, focus on the –"
" – here and now. I heard you the first time, Master." The corners of Anakin's lips creased themselves into the familiar lopsided half-smirk that had been missing the whole exchange.
"Well then, may the Force be with you, my young Padawan." Obi-Wan gave him a gentle, encouraging smile before striding out the door to leave for his mission.
"May the Force be with you too, Obi-Wan."
Tatooine, a few days after the establishment of the Galactic Empire.
The great Negotiator rode his eopie calmly up the cliffside to the synstone hut that stood on the border of the the Dune Sea and the Jundland Wastes. Outwardly he showed no more emotion than if he were strolling through the halls in the Jedi Temple.
Inwardly, the renowned Jedi Master dearly wished to succumb to the insistent tug of both physical and mental exhaustion, and collapse on the back of his steed.
But he was still a Jedi, even if the Order was decimated. He remembered his lessons, and he would act upon them, if only to try and make up for his Padawan's failure –
He wasn't going to think about that now.
Obi-Wan reminded himself of the deeply-ingrained Jedi Code.
There is no emotion, there is peace.
Peace….Anakin had claimed to have brought about peace through the new Empire…his new Empire…the Emperor…Sidious…the Sith Lords…Vader –
Focus, Kenobi, focus!
Perhaps the eopie felt Obi-Wan's fustration too, for it decided to rear up and stamp its hooves hard for no apparent reason.
Ignoring the cloud of dust that subsequently rose, the former Council member struggled to maintain the peaceful, neutral face that he had perfected over the years. True, there would be no witness to any vulnerability here, in the middle of a barren desert, but he was so used to displaying the expression –or lack thereof– that it had become second nature.
Besides, Obi-Wan liked the shielding the expression gave him. He wore it as a mask that veiled his true thoughts and feelings from others when he felt the need for it. Sometimes, he even managed to trick himself.
Not many people could see through his nearly infallible mask. Qui-Gon always could, wich rather annoyed Obi-Wan time to time, and so could…Anakin.
He let out a mostly imperceivable groan. No matter what, his thoughts always circled back to Anakin. The boy he hadn't wanted to train. The boy he raised. The boy he loved –
The boy he failed.
Obi-Wan roughly jerked himself out of the well of memories. Qui-Gon would not have been pleased with his present behavior. Focus on the here and now. Yoda wouldn't be, either. Yoda…the only Jedi Master other than him left in the galaxy. Yoda…the back-ward talking evil little grinch –
Blast. He must have picked up those derogatory characterizations from his disrespectful former Padawan.
….Obi-Wan's left hand was twitching to slam itself into the rocky wall beside him. Anakin again. His despairing, beleguered mind would not leave him alone, and underneath the layers of Jedi countenance, Obi-Wan felt like he was starting to go mad.
And he hadn't even managed to get himself into his new home yet.
Taking a few calming breaths, he forced himself to quickly dismount and take the last few steps that led to the long-abandoned desert hut.
Stepping cautiously into the dwelling he had discovered the day before, the Jedi Master stretched out his senses to sweep the dust-covered rooms for danger. It was unlikely, but 23 years of Jedi missions and three years of war had taught him a quite a bit about simply assuming safety.
Satisfied that there were no assassins, Force-sensitive or otherwise, waiting in ambush, Obi-Wan eased himself into the only chair in the room, letting himself relax for the first time in days. Or as much as possible given the tumultuous state of the galaxy.
Fingering his now-ragged beard, he surveyed his bland new residence with little enthusiasm, only a quite resignation. His room at the Temple, however plain, had a certain liveliness to it. As the Jinn/Kenobi apartment, the Living Force that Qui-Gon could touch so easily never failed to brighten the atmosphere. And later, as the Kenobi/Skywalker residence, happiness and light almost always resonated throughout the rooms from the vivacious apprentice.
He should've known not to pursue such lines of thoughts, because lately, they inevitably led the resurfacing of the bitter memories of the past week.
A particular memory came to mind: the last time the Team had talked as friends. Anakin hadn't wanted Obi-Wan to leave alone to hunt down the dangerous mechanical beast that was Greivous. At the time, Obi-Wan had accepted the reluctance as Anakin's lingering attachment to his old Master. And he had been secretly pleased, despite what the Jedi Code had to say.
But now, with his gift of reflection and retrospect, the Master recalled that there had been an uncertainty, a fearfulness, in his former Padawan's clear blue eyes even as he made amends and bade his friend – his brother – good-bye . Permanently.
That fear, Obi-Wan now knew, was actually born of being left alone with a daunting but vital task that he had only reluctantly accepted.
He shouldn't have left him. Just when Anakin needed him most, he had up and abandoned his friend to the company of Palpatine. Palpatine…it was undoubtedly the Sith's manipulation that ensured the Golden Team's splitting up.
Hindsight was not kind.
Obi-Wan was starting to feel crushed again.
Here and now. Here and now. Here and now…
He let Qui-Gon's teachings circulate his mind like a mantra, protecting his battered soul from being subjected to anymore unpleasant, debilitating memories.
He wouldn't think about the past now. First, the hut needed a good cleaning. He would then start furnishing his new dwelling with the neccessities, and repair or replace anything that was damaged. Yes, he would do that.
Feeling marginally better with a concrete plan for the near future to concentrate on, Obi-Wan got up and returned to where he had left his eopie. The beast of bruden was laden with a moderate load of supplies – the ever-careful Jedi Master hadn't wanted to attract any unwelcome attention while traveling through Mos Espa.
The menial task of unloading and arranging his purchases, however, proved too monotonous, resulting in Obi-Wan sinking into a whirlpool of memories once again.
A more recent recollection stole the spotlight.
He watched as Anakin's eyes –still blue, but clouded with dark gray- slid over his figure incredulously. The surprise soon turned into fury, and Obi-Wan looked on, frozen in disbelief as the former Jedi Knight angrily accused his confused wife of treachery and proceeded to Force choke her to uncounsciousness.
Malicious red and Sithly gold rapidly dominated his eyes, drowning the crystal blue. Anger was evident, and it was becoming something more lethal – hate.
"I HATE YOU!"
Obi-Wan felt the tears stinging in the back of his eyes, struggling to pour out and show everything the venerable Jedi Msater was feeling.
He couldn't keep a few drops from distorting his voice into a half-sob as he told his burning friend, "You were my brother, Anakin. I loved you." He slowly turned and walked away.
Obi-Wan was finding it harder and harder to pull himself back to the present.
'I loved you.' Had it really taken such devastating circumstances for him to finally admit that? It was probably the one thing Anakin wanted to hear the most from his Master's mouth. But the Jedi Code had barred him from saying it outright. Presently, though, the famed Negotiator passionately wanted to voice something he was certain his outspoken Padawan had thought on more than one occasion.
To hell with the Jedi Code.
Taken aback by his own audacity, Obi-Wan swiftly berated himself for the blasphemous thoughts.
He struggled to concentrate on his current chore: dusting out the filthy pantry so that he could place his food supplies within.
He should've known that he wouldn't be getting a mental break anytime soon. So far, his memories had dwelled Anakin's fear, anger, and hate. Naturally, his mind felt the need to round if off with the last –and certainly not least– of the steps to the Dark Side. Suffering.
Anakin had great powers. There was no denying that. Which was why Obi-Wan had worked so hard to tame him, to teach him responsibility, so that the pronouced Chosen One could bring salvation, not devastation.
He had failed, and now the the galaxy would pay. Not only did the Jedi Knight's hatred lead to his own suffering–
–the maimed body slid down the black back into the unforgiving lava below–
–but Anakin's ultimate betrayal had practically doomed the entire galaxy, and the Jedi in particular–
–Jedi younglings sprawled lifelessly on the floor, killed by a saber strike–…
Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering. Indeed.
Was it all predetermined, then? Had Anakin's – and subsequently the galaxy's – fate been decided the moment that fear entered his eyes the day that nine-years old Anakin stood before the Council? Was it – Force forbid – the Council's fault that Anakin eventually turned to the Dark Side? Or was it the will of the Force? Or simply fate?
The bearded head shook dejectedly. Obi-Wan wasn't sure what to believe anymore. Still…
Words thrusted themselves into his thoughts, forcing his mind to focus on them.
There's no such thing as fate.
It was Anakin who had said that, wasn't it? Yes, that time he had agonized himself over a vision where his Master died.
Obi-Wan resisted an urge to snort bitterly, despite himself. The same person that had then worried so deeply about his well-being would now give a few planets to see his former Master dead.
And yet….
I don't believe in fate.
Sincere belief had voiced that statement. And Obi-Wan found himself believing it also.
There's no such thing as fate. There is only the Will of the Force.
He couldn't completely trust anymore the teachings of the Order that had raised him as a Crecheling and made him a Master.
But he could truly trust the words of someone who had betrayed that same Order, that had betrayed him.
The Force worked in mysterious ways.
I intended to do a third part after Anakin's redemption, but I couldn't come up with anything. I was also planning writing from Anakin's POV, but somehow Obi-Wan came easier. So, how was it? Did the passages flow? Were there any awkward phrasings? Review, please!
Edit: I changed some formatting, so hopefully the breaks show up now.