The flames rose, higher and higher, consuming Qui-gon's body completely. The gatherers all lowered their heads in mourning. Slowly, the Jedi, Gungans, and Senate officials that made up the funeral procession trickled out of the area, leaving just two curious figures standing by the cremated body.
One was a small boy with blonde hair and bright blue eyes, who tried, in vain, to stem the flow of tears that cascaded down his face. Tears for a dead man who had showed him only kindness, a rare commodity for a slave. Tears for a mother, still chained by the bonds of slavery.
The other was an older man with red hair and blue-grey eyes, filled with grief. He was the opposite of his companion, in that a single tear had not yet escaped his eye. Yet, everything about his composure, from the slump of his shoulders to the crease of his forehead, conveyed the sense of one who carried a great burden.
This is Anakin Skywalker and Obi-wan Kenobi. Their story started with death, and perhaps that's why it ended that way, too.
Obi-wan Kenobi did not like Anakin Skywalker. Quite frankly, he didn't know what his late master saw in him.
He is willful and disobedient, cocky and impulsive. His former occupation as a slave has led him to despise the title "Master," despise obeying authority figures of any kind. He picked fights with his age mates and refused to follow the rules. There was something else about Anakin too, something that Obi-wan saw and feared.
Attachment.
The boy missed his mother. Missed Padmé. Missed Qui-gon. Missed everyone, and when Obi-wan told him that it was not the Jedi way to dwell on the past, the boy just shot him a glare. Their bond was barely formed, and the two had barely spoken to one another since the funeral.
Obi-wan didn't mind. There was a void in his heart ever since the man that was his father-figure had passed, a void that no one could fill. Especially not Anakin Skywalker. He focused on training the boy out of duty, but would spend many days sitting in Qui-gon's rickety old rocking chair, thoughts dwelling on all the adventures they had shared together. His thoughts were never far from his late master, and without him by his side... Obi-wan felt so cold. Like something was missing inside him, something that could never be replaced.
Worse, he had died before the two could truly reconcile. Reconcile over the issue of Anakin being the Chosen One.
Although Obi-wan knew it was horrible, sometimes he wished Anakin had never come into their lives.
Anakin Skywalker did not like Obi-wan Kenobi. Quite frankly, he didn't know why Qui-gon picked him as an apprentice.
Master Kenobi was cold and aloof, always the first to criticize Anakin if he didn't do a kata right or even trivial things, like if he missed a spot while cleaning. He trained Anakin through the course of the day, and then either retreated into his room or meditated. He meditated so much that Anakin was starting to wonder if he was even human.
At first, Anakin had thought that maybe they could bond over their grief for Qui-gon. However, every attempt of Anakin's to bond with his new master was brushed off. When Anakin tried to sit on his Master's lap while watching a holonet show, like he used to do with his mother, Obi-wan had tensed up and gently removed Anakin from his lap before getting up and leaving.
Moments after Qui-gon's funeral, Anakin tried to hug Obi-wan for comfort, only for Obi-wan to grow stiff and refuse to return it. Anakin had hoped that he and the older man would be friends, like him and Mister Qui-gon, but he couldn't be more different from Qui-gon. Or Shmi, for the matter.
Sometimes, Anakin hated him for it.
Worst of all, this meant Anakin was left with no one. The other padawans thought he was strange because he grew up outside the Temple, and he just didn't fit in here. No one to hold him when he had nightmares. No one to help him tinker with droids.
On Coruscant, Anakin was surrounded by a sea of people, but he had never felt more alone.
And it was all Obi-wan's fault.
"Qui-gon, I wish you were here," Obi-wan whispered in the night, wishing that his old master was there to guide him. He would've known how to care for the young boy. Instead, he had left the slave with a woefully incompetent, recently knighted Obi-wan to train him.
So perhaps it wasn't a surprise when both of them got into an argument just about every day.
But one day was different.
One day, in the middle of screaming about some rule or another, Anakin's nose trickled with blood. Obi-wan thought it was a simple nosebleed... until the boy passed out.
At which point, he started freaking out.
Two hours later, after an agonizing trip to the medcenter, one of the chief healers told him that it was an infection Anakin must've gotten recently, perhaps from Naboo or Tatooine. Either way, Anakin's fragile immune system was struggling to cope with it. He was told to give him some pills and hope that the fever breaks. If it didn't... Anakin had a very low chance of survival.
Obi-wan didn't think he had ever felt more frightened in his entire lifetime.
Anakin was barely conscious, eyes closed and spouting some nonsense. Obi-wan gave him the medicine, but the boy's fever refused to go down. His skin had turned pale and ashy, and his lips were bluish in color.
Fretting constantly, Obi-wan finally picked up the small boy and settled him on his lap, sitting in the rocking chair in a vain attempt to calm himself down. All he could think about was his horrible wish, his wish for Anakin to simply be gone from his life.
"Anakin, I am so sorry. I stayed distant from you, and I didn't accept you because you caused a fracture in my relationship with Qui-gon. The real truth, Anakin, is that I was afraid. What happened on Naboo hurt me so badly, that I never wanted to be hurt again, so I shut everyone out. I shut you out. Please, forgive me. I swear on the Force itself, if you get past this illness, I won't be distant anymore. You deserve a Master who will train you well, but also one who will care for you. I'll try my best to be that Master, just please, get through this," Obi-wan whispered, a tear trickling down his cheek.
Softly, he sang a song that the crechemasters used to sing to him when he was a youngling. A song about a meadow, about happiness and hope. Blissfully unaware that Anakin was hanging into every word, even in his state of semi-consciousness.
Sitting in the rocking chair, listening to the thumping of his Master's heart and the sound of his lilting voice, singing him to sleep, Anakin realized that suddenly, he didn't feel so alone anymore. And neither did Obi-wan.
In the morning, Anakin's fever broke. And yet, neither of them awoke, Anakin nestled in Obi-wan's arms, the older man resting his forehead against the young child's. A vaguely familiar blue spirit hovered over both of them, smiling at the sight. For now, there was no strife or distrust, no promises and bonds of brotherhood horribly broken in fire and smoke on a fiery lava planet.
For now, there was just Obi-wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker.