Co-authored with Aubrey'sMaster.

Grave Tilling 101
Prologue

On the mansion world the roles reverse
A slave becomes a Master
On the mansion world the souls converse
And life moves a little faster
When we unify the universe
To arrive in the ever after
In the mansion world, I might like to know you

Mansion World (Deadsy, Commencement)

A LONG TIME AGO, IN A GALAXY FAR, FAR AWAY…

Anakin couldn't believe it. He couldn't fucking believe it! Qui-Gon had been dead for more than a week, and he still couldn't believe it. Qui-Gon Jinn was dead. His precious, precious Master had left him. Not only that, he'd left him with a nine-year-old child! Not to say that the child was actually Anakin's. Not in the least. The recently Knighted blonde probably wouldn't have minded as much if Qui-Gon had left him with a son. But, no, the bastard had landed him a pupil, then gotten himself killed, effectively leaving his own Padawan to clean the mess up. Again. It was so typical of Qui-Gon, Anakin could have barfed had the situation not been so grave. (Literally and figuratively.)

Looking over at the brown haired boy with a less than subtle look, Anakin's hand automatically reached up to play with his Padawan braid. Or, where his Padawan braid had been, until recently. He could still feel the surreal shiver passing down his spine, as Yoda severed the lock of hair.

The Council had approved his request to train young Obi-Wan Kenobi, on his Master's behalf, but the permission had been given with much reluctance, and many warnings. Quite a few of them, Anakin himself had agreed with. Not that he'd ever admit that aloud. Obi-Wan's midi-chlorian count had been so unusually high that Qui-Gon hadn't been able to resist taking the little tyke home, back to Coruscant and the Temple. Anakin had been against it from the beginning, but it hadn't been hard for Qui-Gon to con him into agreeing, through various methods of guilt and persuasion.

So now here he was: pre-maturely Masterless, at the age of twenty-five, sitting in the very same quarters he had shared so recently with Qui-Gon, in the middle of a staring contest with a young boy, who had still managed to be too old, both vying to outlast the other.

"Master," Obi-Wan murmured finally, trying to ignore the violent flinch it drew from Anakin, (who didn't feel himself worthy of being a Master in the least) "are you alright?"

"Fine," the Knight responded mechanically; rising to his feet in an attempt to, just maybe, get away from those prying blue-gray eyes. "I'm just fine."

"I'm going to miss him too, Master," Obi-Wan informed him simply, and Anakin could feel his intent eyes on his back as he froze and stiffened. What did this child know of Qui-Gon Jinn? This boy who had barely known the Jedi Master for a week, before Darth Maul had taken him back into the Force? What did he know of anything?

"Do not form attachments, Padawan," Anakin murmured finally instead, forcing his muscles to relax before they had a chance to cramp. "Not with me, or Qui-Gon, or friends, or family… Do not form them with anyone. Attachment leads to fear, anger, freed, and hate. These are of the dark side, and Jedi do not tolerate them."

"Master Yoda has told me all of these things, Master." Finally, Anakin spun around to face him. Kneeling down in front of the boy, he almost delicately lifted Obi-Wan's chin up to look into his eyes.

"Apparently not clearly enough."

Anakin knew he was being harsh with his new apprentice. He knew it all too clearly, but he couldn't bring himself to care for the boy. Not yet. He'd care soon enough, but right now caring felt too…raw. Between the deaths of his mother and Qui-Gon, Anakin very nearly feared caring for his little protégé. Releasing the child's chin again, he rose up to his feet and let out a deep breath, turning to walk toward the quarters' door, that would lead him back into the hallway.

"Where are you going, Master?" Obi-Wan's gaze was so warily curious it was almost cute. Anakin would let himself care about him eventually…just not yet.

"To meditate," he answered shortly, before exiting the rooms. He sorely wished the Council had relocated them to another set of quarters, after Qui-Gon had died. Moving into his Master's room so quickly had been potentially more painful than the funeral itself. It would be over his dead body, though, that young Obi-Wan Kenobi slept in Qui-Gon Jinn's bed. He'd make sure of it, just as well as he would ensure the boy be trained. He had made a promise to keep, after all.