Letting go
Characters: Siri Tachi, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Adi Gallia, Qui-Gon Jinn
Timeframe: JA Obi-Wan is 18. After Secrets of the Jedi by Jude Watson
Genre: drama, rated G
Summary: Obi-Wan and Siri aren't getting along. Their masters want to help.
Notes: this was for a POV challenge - write the same scene from two points of view. I was paired up with obsessedwithsw for the challenge. I've since rewritten the dialogue that she had written as part of this challenge so it is entirely my own work. It was fun working with her!
Disclaimer: I do not own Qui-Gon Jinn or Adi Gallia or Obi-Wan Kenobi or Siri Tachi or the Star Wars concept; Lucasfilm and Jude Watson do. I am very respectfully borrowing them with no intent to profit. No credits have changed hands. No copyright infringement is intended.
Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation. - Kahlil Gibran
The noise in the Temple dining hall was deafening.
His meal finished, Qui-Gon sat back, delighting in the sounds of Jedi at play - the squeal of high-pitched youngling voices rising over the din, the undertone of base and tenor as Knights and Masters argued about news from the Senate or the latest edict from the Council. Good-natured laughter skidded across the room as Padawans jostled their agemates in the endless celebration of children turning into adults - all jokes and posturing and gossip. Behind him, Qui-Gon could hear the boot-heel clack of Jedi scurrying in and out, gathering food and friends in this busy place.
It was noisy and chaotic and, he had to admit, very welcome after so much time away from the Temple. Too long. It had been too long since they had had enough time to relax into much needed rest, to meet again with friends and colleagues, to replenish their battered spirits in the warm clear currents of the Force.
But there was one person who was not enjoying himself.
Not for the first time that day, Qui-Gon looked over at the Senior Padawans' table and trying not to frown his concern at the scene.
Obi-Wan was the calm center in a storm of activity. He was surrounded by lively friends - their
arms akimbo, tentacles waving, and exoskeleton appendages clicking rapidly as they exchanged news and tall tales about their latest missions. Smiling faces, shouts of exhilaration peppering the air, the padawans were clearly excited to be together again. But not Obi-Wan.
There was no wry grin, no sparkle in his grey eyes, no hints of mischief planned or shared secrets, no indication at all that he was happy to be home. Instead, his padawan sat there, seemingly the perfect example of Jedi detachment, nodding politely when pressed but otherwise untouched by the chaos around him.
More importantly, Obi-Wan refused to look at anyone. Instead, he stared down at his food, occasionally stirring the mound of greens whenever someone sent a question his way, or else spent his time gazing off into the distance, his eyes unfocused, his face pale and disturbingly blank. Even from his vantage point, Qui-Gon could see that he was unhappy. In fact, his spirit seemed to be wounded, almost uncaring.
It could not continue.
Before Qui-Gon could signal that he wanted a word with his Learner, Obi-Wan's sometime rival, Siri Tachi, entered the hall and sat down at the far end of the table. She was greeted with enthusiasm by everyone except his padawan.
Instead, Obi-Wan's mouth tightened into a thin line. Frowning, he made one final stab at his food and then shoved it aside, ignoring the looks of concern from the other teenagers. A few seconds later, he stood up, shaking his head at some query from his boisterous friends and left.
For a moment, the occupants of the Senior Padawans' table were silent, apparently astonished at his apprentice's strange behavior. They were sitting there, staring after Obi-Wan, watching him hurry out the door, all of them - except for one scowling girl.
Padawan Tachi never looked once at Obi-Wan.
Qui-Gon knew then that something had to be done. To allow it to fester one more day would do Obi-Wan or Siri no service.
Pushing his own food aside, he sat there, amidst the roar of greetings and gossip and laughter, hearing none of it, and thought about what would be the best approach. Adi Gallia, Council member and Siri's Master, might have some insight into the dilemma; after all, they had talked about it at length when the problem first arose and they had agreed to allow their padawans time to make it right. But time had run out. The teenagers needed to face this thing between them. Before it got any worse.
With one final displeased grunt, he stood and began walking towards his quarters, waiting until the din had quieted down to a distant rumble before he pulled out his comlink and thumbed it on. "Adi, it's Qui-Gon. I believe that problem we discussed has worsened. It's time we helped things along."
The voice at the other end of the signal let out a long, unhappy sigh. "Very well." Master Gallia paused for a moment and then said quietly, "I had hoped that Siri and Obi-Wan would have settled things by now. But considering the pair, I suppose it was too much to expect. What do you suggest?"
"I talked about this with Obi-Wan. Even Master Yoda tried to reason with him and all it did was push him into hiding behind platitudes and silence. Lectures will not work. Siri, I believe, would balk at a direct confrontation and so would my apprentice. Both of them stubborn, no matter how we might couch the discussion in gentle diplomacy. We need to come at them from a different direction."
"I agree." Adi sounded almost disheartened. "Siri claims that there is no problem. We both know better."
"They have always been competitive. I suggest a sparring match between them. They will focus on the competition and not on their regrets. And get them talking again." Frowning as he reached his destination, he hesitated before entering. "One of the smaller salons in perhaps an hour?"
"Very well. Salon AA23 is available. I'll send Siri down and meet you there. An hour, then. Gallia out."
Tucking the comlink back into his belt, Qui-Gon straightened and took a deep breath to center himself. He would need balance, to be both sympathetic and firm, if he was going to help his apprentice. Beyond the door, in their quarters, Obi-Wan was likely berating himself for being less than the perfect Jedi while trying to come to terms with his choices. And, Qui-Gon thought wryly that his padawan was very like his stubborn master, in those choices and in the struggle as well.
As he opened the door, he could see Obi-Wan at the far end of the room, standing by the transparasteel window, looking out into the distance. His back was stiff, his arms tight around his chest. But it was the aching sorrow in the air and the way the Force swirled about Obi-Wan as if to comfort that tore at Qui-Gon's throat.
His padawan did not turn as he walked over to the window and stood beside him. For a few moments, Qui-Gon said not a word, trying to give Obi-Wan a chance to talk about what was bothering him, hoping that he would take this opportunity to connect with his old Master, not as student to teacher but as friends.
Instead, Obi-Wan seemed to curl inward; the slump of his shoulders spoke volumes of his hurt. He kept sending little side glances toward Qui-Gon and then looking away again, as if he was waiting for censure or a lecture and dreading it. The frown was there too, and the grief. It made his apprentice look years older and haggard and very unhappy.
At last, Qui-Gon said gently, "I've arranged for a salon in an hour. Sparring may help clear your mind."
Obi-Wan nodded abruptly. Then as he stared out the window, blinking rapidly, his grey eyes liquid in the afternoon light, he said softly, "I'm sorry about the way I behaved in the dining hall, Master. It won't happen again."
"It's the choices we make that define us, Padawan. I know that it has been hard."
"Harder than you know," Obi-Wan said, his voice raw with emotion. "I just didn't think it would hurt this much."
His apprentice was wrong, of course. Qui-Gon knew all too well how much pain loving another could bring. Especially when a Jedi is not allowed to love.
Not so long ago, Qui-Gon had also done the forbidden - with his friend and creche-mate, Tahl. They had been friends longer than lovers and lovers only long enough to share one sweet kiss before her death. Oh, yes, he knew just how much pain there was in love.
And now his padawan had made the same mistake. With Siri Tachi.
Qui-Gon should have seen it sooner, the growing emotion between the two and yet he had not. He had been distracted with missions and duty, never expecting his serious and dedicated student to fall in love.
But a lingering glance between Obi-Wan and Siri and Qui-Gon was suddenly aware of the way they seemed to orbit each other, the undernote of longing in their conversation, the hesitant graze of hands when they thought no one was around. The profound tenderness in their silences.
It broke his heart to have to remind Obi-Wan of the rules and strictures of the Jedi Code, that central to a Jedi's life was duty and selfless service. Attachment was forbidden, absolutely and irrevocably. The Jedi would not change their rules for Obi-Wan, no matter how he might wish it were so. If his padawan chose attachment and Siri, if he refused to abide by the Code, he would have to leave the Order.
Intellectually, his padawan knew the Code well; he had learned the dictates of the Order with the same distant concern as he would have memorized the size of Coruscant's sun or how to make fire from stone and kindling. And before this affair, Qui-Gon would have said that his padawan agreed with the Code - all of it - following the rules in spirit as well as mind, understanding the reasons for each and every one to the point of arguing in favor of some with his Master - much to Qui-Gon's chagrin.
But the heart could lead even the most devout astray. Obi-Wan had not truly realized the extent of his sacrifice to the Order until that moment.
The two of them, young Jedi in heart and mind, had only one choice to make, and in the end, it was not a choice at all. And now they were paying the price.
"The pain will ease in time." He tried to sound encouraging but Obi-Wan would have none of it.
"I wonder. You haven't... " his voice trailed off, sullen and then instantly contrite. Turning away, he gazed out the window again, his head bowed in wordless apology.
Qui-Gon reached out, gripping Obi-Wan's shoulder for a moment in sympathy. He understood that his apprentice was lost and in pain; Obi-Wan needed to know the truth about that time and all the times since then when Qui-Gon grieved for his own lost love.
Sorrow husked his voice as he murmured, "I've been less than honest with you, Obi-Wan."
As his padawan blinked up in surprise, Qui-Gon sent him an apologetic smile and then turned to gaze into the brilliant afternoon light. "When I first realized that you loved Siri, I told you that you had to choose between her and the Jedi."
He paused, remembering again the shattered look on Obi-Wan's face. But he knew he had to let his padawan know just how much he truly understood. "In your pain, you criticized me for loving Tahl when you were being asked to give up your own love. And you were correct to do so, much as it was difficult to hear. It hurt to talk of her, to remember that time when I thought nothing mattered but her. And when she died, I wanted revenge with every breath that I took."
Obi-Wan waited patiently and Qui-Gon was thankful for it. Gathering his strength, he said gently, "You helped me to see the Light once more. Helped me in more ways than I can count, not just at that moment but in all the moments since then. But your question brought back the pain of our last good-bye and I didn't answer honestly or well."
Shaking his head, Obi-Wan murmured, "Master, you don't have to say anything else. I understand."
"I must say this, young one. You chose the Jedi path even though you could see the love shining in her eyes. It took courage."
His padawan shrugged off the praise, still joyless in the unrelenting anguish of memory, but Qui-Gon thought he could see just the slightest ease in his young student's face. He knew that Obi-Wan would remember what he said, later when he was alone and could allow himself to accept it.
"Padawan, I'm not sure that I would have had the same courage at that moment. But, after the first rush of acknowledging that love, I think Tahl and I would have put it aside and remained with the Order. Just as you have done."
"I know that I was meant to be a Jedi." Obi-Wan hesitated, almost as if he didn't know what to say or how to say it. "But it still hurts."
"And it will for some time. But as the attachment fades, your friendship with Siri will grow and be stronger for the loss you now feel."
Shaking his head, Obi-Wan said hoarsely, "I tried to talk to her, to go back to being friends. But I'm not sure I can. Every time I see her face, I remember. And she turned away so quickly. No goodbyes, nothing but the sound of her footsteps as she walked away from me."
His padawan stopped abruptly, his breathing rapid and harsh. He seemed to be awash in confusion and anger and regret. Obi-Wan slumped, leaning against the window and tucking his hands into wide sleeves; his crossed arms seemed almost a living shield against hurt. As his padawan stared out into the distance, his voice was hushed, "How could she do that?"
Qui-Gon wasn't sure what to do next. He wanted to shake his student until he saw reason or else comfort him with soft words and a rough hug; instead, he said, "It has been hard for her as well, my Padawan."
Obi-Wan looked up at him, the grey bewilderment in his eyes morphing into stone. "I don't think so. I've tried to talk to her about it. She walks away and ignores me. You saw her in the dining hall. It's the same every time. She's made it very clear that she wants nothing to do with me." Shrugging, he muttered, "It's better for everyone if I just stay away."
"Obi-Wan..."
"Master, I promise that I'll behave as a proper Jedi should but, except for missions, I don't want to see her again." In Obi-Wan's eyes shone the knowledge that his love for Siri could never be more than an aching dream, that he would be Jedi and forever apart. His young face was a study of contrasts; loss warring with love, lines etching his skin in frown and regret. "I'll just stay away."
"Obi-Wan, a Jedi faces his fears, not runs from them."
Shaking his head, with a look as decided and stubborn as a gundark's, Obi-Wan straightened up. He said stiffly, "This is not running, Master. She said she would forget it ever happened and she has. It's what she wants, for me to stay as far away from her as possible. And I'm going to do it. For her sake."
Qui-Gon stood there staring down at Obi-Wan; his padawan may have thought he was sincere in his protests but he knew better. The boy... the young man was lying to himself. It was for his own pain as much as Siri's that Obi-Wan wanted to avoid the situation.
And avoidance was unacceptable, especially here and now. If Obi-Wan could not see that he needed to face Siri and come to an understanding between them, then there was only one recourse. Confrontation.
Qui-Gon waited a few heartbeats longer, hoping that his stubborn apprentice would come to his senses. But he did not. Instead, Obi-Wan leaned against the transparasteel, arms folded, scowling unhappily into the distance, and said not a word.
Letting go of his own mixed feelings about this situation, Qui-Gon knew that he could not allow Obi-Wan this emotional retreat. It was counter to everything that they had both worked so long and hard to accomplish. Obi-Wan had to face his fears - much as his padawan would wish it otherwise. Qui-Gon would have to be firm. He could do nothing less.
Crossing his arms tightly about his chest in a showy stance of irrevocable decision, Qui-Gon breathed out his doubts and renewed his determination to make things right. Stepping closer to Obi-Wan, close enough to startle the young one, he frowned down at him. Surprised, his apprentice lurched backward and stood there, blinking up into the face of a now stern and strict Jedi Master.
"Padawan, you have explained your reasoning. I accept that your feelings in this are strong but you will put them aside as befitting a Jedi. Sacrifice and duty are the expectations that we all live with and you must accept them if you are to remain in the Order."
Obi-Wan stared up at him, confused at first and then resigned to the rebuke. It was nothing that he did not already know and Qui-Gon was merely reminding him of that fact.
"Yes, Master." A long sigh and Obi-Wan stood there waiting, it would seem, for a further list of his shortcomings.
But that was not Qui-Gon's intent. Instead, he said, "In one hour, your presence is required in room AA23 for lightsaber drills. You will be sparring with another padawan... Siri Tachi."
And then waited for the explosion. It was not long in coming.
"No. You can't be serious. After all that you... I..." His padawan's face was flushed with mutiny and a kind of bewildered anger.
"Very serious. You have both been avoiding the problem for far too long. I meant what I said, Obi-Wan, and if you were thinking clearly on this issue, you would agree with me. You must face your fears if you are to grow, my Padawan." He said sternly, "Master Gallia and I have no recourse but to insist on this. For both your sakes."
Obi-Wan went rigid, his arms locked like chains around his body, his mouth flattened in utter fury at what he must have perceived as betrayal. He was breathing hard, too, and Qui-Gon could see the way that his padawan was fighting to release his anger, trying to get it under control before he did something even more foolish than falling in love. It seemed to take an eternity but finally and with a great show of effort, he bowed and said tightly, "Yes, Master."
Qui-Gon knew then that he'd lost him. His padawan was no longer listening, only obeying the mandates of the Jedi Code without any joy in his heart or satisfaction in duty. And all Qui-Gon could do was hope that the coming battle would make things right again. Somehow.