If you haven't read this book, you won't understand why I wrote this.
If you have read this book, you will understood why I wrote it. :)
Picks up during the events of page 128.
The Choices We Make
by Laura Boeff
At last, Qui-Gon's
enemy lay at his feet, just as he'd imagined. He stood over Balog, his
lightsaber high, prepared for the stroke
that would bring him so much satisfaction.
Then his saber
dropped.
"Qui-Gon, no!"
A beam of green
light intersected his and fire sizzled along the joined sabers, mere
inches from Balog's throat.
He was being
denied! It almost made him want to scream. How could Obi-Wan deny
him? This was Tahl's killer. This man
was a creation of evil, and him an implement of justice.
How could anyone deny him the revenge
in his heart?!
How dare
anyone to try!
His blade sang;
darted, attacked, was deflected and met. A flurry of blows were traded
as Qui-Gon fought desperately to bring
his lightsaber an inch closer to Tahl's killer. An inch
closer to satisfaction.
"Qui-Gon, stop
this! This is not the way of the Jedi!"
Obi-Wan's voice
was an annoyance in his ears. Way of the Jedi? No, he knew it wasn't,
but right now he did not care. How could
he care? All that he had cared about had been ripped
away from him by this evil creature that
lay on the floor blubbering as the Jedi's dueled.
"Qui-Gon, please."
Desperation sang in his Padawan's voice, but it touched him not.
Only darkness touched him, fed him, and
he did not deny it.
"Get!" A swing.
"Out!" A parry. "Of!" A feint. "My!" A dodge. "Way!
And a wrong move.
His saber hissed
threw the air as the young man stumbled, caught off balance. There
was the sizzle of heat on skin and the
stink of burning cloth and flesh as the tip of Qui-Gon's
blade danced up over Obi-Wan's chest and
along his collar bone. Obi-Wan screamed in pain, his
lightsaber dropping to the floor as he
collapsed in front of Balog, gasping for air.
Time seem to
snap to a standstill. Qui-Gon was frozen, staring down at his Padawan as
if seeing him for the first time. His
chest heaved in both exertion and desperation. His mind was
a swirl of confusion; torn between the
shock that he had just struck down his apprentice and the
drive to finish what he started and deliver
justice to Balog.
"Look!" Obi-Wan
sobbed, hand clutching at his injury as he stared earnestly up at him.
"Look at what your anger has done, Qui-Gon.
This is not the way. This.. this is not your way." The
youth swayed, eyes squeezing shut against
the pain. "This.. isn't Tahl's way...."
It was like a
slap in the face and Qui-Gon took a step back involuntarily. Tahl... Tahl,
his
friend, his.. love... Shaking his head
against the stifling wall of confusion, Qui-Gon caught sight
of himself in the hazy reflection of a
marble vase polished to a high sheen. Saw the darkness,
the anger that was etched into every line
of his continence.
Darkness... He..
he'd touched the darkness.. Welcomed it....
Tahl would be
upset. Horrified.
No....
He was not even
aware of dropping his saber, the blade disappearing as it hit the ground
and bounced with a hollow clang. Could
only look in a stupor as the door burst open. Mace and
Bant rushed in, the young Calamari not
stifling a gasp at what they found. Mace was even more
taciturn, pushing past and securing Balog,
once and for all guaranteeing that Tahl's killer would
be beyond the reach of Qui-Gon's justice.
His justice...
A fist clenched.
His revenge.
"Obi-Wan?" Bant's
soft, worried voice. He looked to were she was knelling in front of his
Padawan. Obi-Wan was slumped forward,
kept up only by one arm and pure determination. He
shook his head, but what the gesture meant
he was not sure. As if through a thick fog Qui-Gon
felt his Padawan's pain, and even more
he felt the tendril of despair through their weak and
thready connection.
The damage he
had done. Oh Force, what had he done?
"Obi-Wan?" he
called as well, knelling worriedly in front of his apprentice. Bant stiffened
and flashed him a distrusting look and
he could not meet it. Instead he sought out his own
Padawan's eyes. They flickered up to him,
pain-filled and sorrowful. He reached out for the
young man but Obi-Wan flinched back, eyes
wincing shut as the injury was jarred.
"Obi-Wan.." he
said helplessly. Then he was shoved aside and not kindly so. Mace
delivered a glare that had all the power
of a physical blow and crouched down before Obi-Wan.
"Let me see,"
he ordered, not unkindly and Obi-Wan complied. Bant wrapped an arm
around him and supported him as Mace inspected
the injury. Obi-Wan did not flinch away from
his touch and Qui-Gon felt something
in him curl up in agony at that. The wounds he had
caused. The ones you could and could not
see.
"Focus. Accept
the pain," Mace schooled him calmly.
"Trying..." Obi-Wan
confessed through gritted teeth. And he was. Qui-Gon could feel it
through the shredded remains of their
bond. The bond he'd all but destroyed in his angry thirst
for justice.
"No try, do,"
Bant said in amazing imitation of Yoda. Obi-Wan chuckled then winced, but
smiled his gratitude to his friend.
In this time,
others had arrived. Security forces, and the room was becoming quickly
overflowed.
"Come. Let's
get you to the medical center," Mace decided, satisfied that Balog was
in
safe hands. Qui-Gon moved forward to help
but Mace moved and blocked his way, forming a
formidable wall between him an his apprentice
as they assisted in getting Obi-Wan up. He could
only trail like a lost soul behind them
as they left.
"Tell Manex I
will be contacting him shortly with a full report," Mace said to one security
agent as they departed. The man just nodded
his compliance and Mace left it at that as they
sought medical help for Obi-Wan's injury.
***
That had been
two days ago. Two days that he had spent guarding Tahl's body and
contemplating his own fall from the light.
It was all he could do. Mace had made it damn clear he
was to have no contact with his Padawan
until the Council decided on the matter of his
transgressions. He had managed only the
briefest of visits to Obi-Wan; while he was
recuperating on the ship, deep asleep
in his room, the bandage across his chest easily visible
beneath his thin night shirt.
He had only watched,
not wishing to disturb his recovering Padawan when, as if
magically, out of nowhere Mace had popped
up and simply stared him into retreat. Mace was not
on the Council without good reason. And
Qui-Gon knew his standing was shaky at best. Nothing
would be gained with further defiance
and more could be lost if he did not control his stubborn
pride and desperate worry.
"Take care of
him." Had been his only quiet request of the imposing Master.
"I will." Had
been Mace's reply, with an edge that spoke of his conviction to a task
Qui-Gon himself had failed at.
So he retreated
to his vigil over Tahl's body. Anger had come and gone and come again
in him as he watched her still form. And
such anger that it frightened him with it's single-minded
madness.
Tahl would be
pissed at him. It was one of the few things that kept his rage in check.
She
would be furious and she would chew his
ear off for giving into his anger, for courting the
Darkside on her behalf. And that fact
only added to his guilt. He wanted to be angry. He needed
to be angry, because if he wasn't angry,
he would have no choice but to grieve. To finally see
that her death was something he would
have to accept.
And he didn't
know if he could accept it. Accept her being gone.
But accept he
somehow had too. Already Tahl's body was being made ready for her
funeral, having been taken away upon their
arrival at the temple. No longer could he sit at her
silent side. Could no longer watch her
face, waiting, in a hopeless way, that she might open her
eyes. That she would live for him.
Hopeless. Just
hopeless.
Which was how
he felt in a way as he stared out over Coruscant from one of the temples
many balconies. Yes, lost and uncertain
and afraid at what he had done, and yet still angry that
he had not done more and knowing that
doing more would have assured his turning to the
Darkside.
Qui-Gon shuddered.
Hypocrite. It was the kindess word he could think of for himself.
Such a hypocrite. Dwelling so long in
his life of Xanatos' fall and how that had hurt him. Of
fretting over accepting Obi-Wan in the
fear that he to would turn Darkside one day. And, in the
end, it was himself that welcomed that
dark power. It was *him* that gave up the Jedi ideals he
touted so passionately. Gave them up when
they denied him the revenge he was certain he
needed.
Hypocrite.
He stared out
unseeing at the ships that filled the Coruscant sky.
Hypocrite.
Amongst other
things...
***
Two days had come
and gone and still Obi-Wan felt no better than he had when he had
been led onto the ship back to Coruscant
in a daze. Sure, his wounded shoulder was well near
healed, no more then a tender scar, but
the other hurts... Obi-Wan drew in a deep breath, letting
it out slowly. He had not felt this lost
since Melida/Daan. Since that time he faced that trial of
uncertainty in himself. Lost and alone
and once again without Qui-Gon to turn to for advice. If his
master had any advice to give, given his
current state of mind.
He shook his
head, plucking at the bluish-green grass he was sitting on. He was tucked
into a secluded corner of the temple garden,
tossing blades of grass absently into the reflecting
pool in front of him.
"Obi-Wan?"
The hesitant
voice was unmistakable and he looked up to see Bant craning her head
curiously at him, pausing a short distance
away, awaiting his permission to come closer.
"Hi, Bant." He
tried to smile but it didn't feel right.
"Hey," she said
and came alongside him, sitting. "How are you feeling?"
A shrug that
pulled at still healing skin, but didn't really hurt. "Okay, I guess."
"You guess?"
Bant didn't have eyebrows to raise, but she relayed her pessimism with
her
voice. He sighed and gave up mutilating
the grass.
"My wound's healed.
It doesn't hurt anymore."
"You still seem
in pain," she ventured.
He was. He wasn't.
Force he didn't know what to feel anymore!
"Obi-Wan?" Bant
said softly and took his hand, squeezing it gently. "I'm sorry."
Huh? Obi-Wan
blinked in confusion at her. "None of this is your fault, Bant."
"No, but I still
treated you very badly. I.. I said some awfully cold things to you and
I feel
bad. I didn't mean them, I was just..
angry."
Obi-Wan smiled
slightly. "I understand. I didn't then.. but I do now."
"You're mad at
Qui-Gon?"
He took a deep
breath before answering. "No. Not mad.. not at Qui-Gon. Just.. mad at
everything that's happened. At how everything
went wrong."
Bant nodded with
him, sighing heavily. "I miss Tahl," she confessed sadly.
Obi-Wan nodded
and gave her a reassuring hug.
"So do I," he
admitted. "So do I."
They were silent
a moment in their misery and Obi-Wan noticed, off-handedly, that Bant
was now plucking at the grass ruthlessly.
"So how do you
feel about master Qui-Gon now?"
It was a question
Obi-Wan was not sure how to answer.
"Sad.. I guess.
I can't say I understand exactly why he did what he did, but I know his
grief for Tahl was overwhelming. I.. I
just wished I could have helped him more with his grief. If..
if he could have come to me, maybe then
he wouldn't have done what he did."
"It was his choice,
Obi-Wan."
He nodded and
felt even more miserable for the fact. "Yeah. But still.... I.. thought
we
were closer. I know we had a rough start
but I thought that was past us, that we were.."
Friends. But
he didn't have the will to say it. Qui-Gon had turned away from his every
offer of support. His every gesture of
compassion. And the bond between them had become no
more then a haze of fathomless gray that
seemed to smother his faith in their partnership.
"Not your fault,
Obi-Wan. You did all you could. For Qui-Gon and for me. Thank you,"
Bant assured with a hug of her own. He
leaned into her, almost desperate for some form of
solace.
"Thanks. That
means a lot to me."
Bant hugged him
again. "It's only the truth."
"Still good to
hear. I just don't know what will happen now, and I know I should just
be
patient and wait and accept what comes,
but.. it's so hard."
"It'll get easier,
Obi-Wan. It will."
"But it'll never
be the same, Bant. That's the part that hurts the worst."
"You don't think
the council will let Qui-Gon be you master anymore?" she asked.
He looked out
at the perfectly still water of the reflecting pool heart breaking.
"I don't know
if I want him to be my master anymore."
Bant could not
repress her gasp of surprise. "You can't mean that, Obi-Wan! You and
Qui-Gon have been through so much together."
"And still it
didn't matter to him!" Obi-Wan snorted, surprised at how bitter he felt,
then
shook his head feeling one tear sneaking
free even as he fought it back. "I've tried so hard to be
the best Padawan I could be. I know I'm
not perfect, not by a longshot, but... but it's like no
matter what I do, I just can't seem to
get Qui-Gon to accept me. Really accept me! But what's
worse; worse then never quite having his
acceptance is the fact that.. that..."
He couldn't talk,
the words tangled up in his constricted throat. His hurt, his despair and
his anger rushing over him like a wave
of agony. He was not even aware that Bant was hugging
him again while tears tracked unchecked
over his face as he fought to accept his pain, to let it
come and go and leave his mind at peace.
But while the emotions came easily, they seemed
determined not to be banished.
"That what?"
Bant pressed gently, compassionately.
He licked lips
gone dry and swallowed heavily.
"I don't know
if I can trust him anymore, Bant. I.. I just don't know if I can..."
He buried into
her embrace and just cried, ashamed and yet relieved to do so.
"Give it time,
Obi-Wan. Give yourself time. Give Qui-Gon time."
Time. It was
all he had and it was not what he needed.
***
The nearly imperceptible
scuff of soft robes on stone reached his sharp ears, interrupting
his silent contemplation's even as he
became aware of an old and familiar presence.
"So has the Council
decided my punishment?" Qui-Gon's voice held no inflection as he
turned to face Yoda. He knew he was in
the wrong and he would accept whatever was deemed
appropriate for his actions.
Yoda sniffed
and studied his former apprentice for a moment. Qui-Gon felt distinctly
uncomfortable in the short Master's piercing
gaze.
"Decided we have
not," he said at last. "Many issues to consider."
"Issues?" Qui-Gon
raised an eyebrow. He had been thorough and honest in his report.
He had left nothing out that could cast
speculation on his actions.
Yoda's eyes never
left his. "Yes. Decide we must about Obi-Wan."
Qui-Gon felt
muscles clench slightly in alarm. "Obi-Wan played no part in my
misdeeds..."
"Know this I
do," Yoda interrupted mercilessly. "Behaved like Jedi, he did."
It was a rebuke
as much as a concession and Qui-Gon had the good sense to wince.
Yoda's reproachful gaze did not relent,
nor did his glowering expression change.
"On matters of
who his master should be, we discuss."
Master? It felt
like a pit had opened and his heart was swallowed into it's murky depths
at
the thought of Obi-Wan being given to
another to be trained. He couldn't really argue it, given
the atrocities he'd committed, but still...
"Must that happen?"
he asked softly.
Yoda said nothing
for a moment, staring at him as if looking for something.
"Should happen,
I believe," was the Master's retort and edged with anger.
Yoda wanted to
take Obi-Wan away from him? His dismay reached his face and Yoda
snorted at him.
"Now, now you
worry about Obi-Wan," he railed. "Worry you did not when you should
have."
"I did my best
to keep him from getting involved..." Qui-Gon tried only to receive the
sharp end of Yoda's gimmer stick in his
knee.
"Second!" the
Master declared defiantly. "Always second he was to you. Second he was
when you pursued Xanatos. Second he was
when you pursued Tahl. Not first, as a Padawan
should be! You have been more then selfish,
you have been unworthy of him. Great Jedi he
shall be. Same may not be said of you!"
The stick slammed into the ground in emphasis and
Qui-Gon had no argument. There was none.
Yoda was right. He'd held himself to far apart from
his apprentice. Had kept him second place
in his heart and then lied to himself that this was the
best way for Obi-Wan to learn. This was
the safe way.
He shook his
head and laughed bitterly.
"I knew I was
in the wrong and yet refused to see I was in the wrong. Worse, I did not
want to be in the wrong." He swallowed
heavily. "I have lost so much, Master. And I have
committed wrongs. Such great wrongs. But...
but I do not want to lose Obi-Wan. Any punishment
I will accept if you will give me your
blessing to keep training him."
He did not duck
away from Yoda's direct gaze though it made him nervous as the
seconds past. Then, Yoda sighed, eyes
closing and the anger left his face to be replaced by
sadness.
"My forgiveness
you do not need. Discuss with Obi-Wan about this we will. His needs to
be met, not yours."
Qui-Gon lowered
his head. "I understand."
"Do you?" Yoda
lifted an ear up at him. "About time it is then."
A wry, painful
smile quirked his lip. "Yes, it is about time. About damn time." He looked
helplessly at his former Master. "There
must be a way..."
His voice drifted,
uncertain and afraid. Obi-Wan. Bright, brilliant, clever, impulsive and
stubborn. His Padawan was an endless bundle
of honesty and determination, and the last bright
spot he had in his life. He had wronged
the boy badly. Had shoved him and his compassion away
when he should have drawn his apprentice
close and accepted the love he gave. The support he
offered. But he had been selfish. And
he had been stupid and angry. So very stupid and angry.
But how could he atone for his wrongs
if he was separated from the Padawan?
Yoda tapped the
ground with his stick, then looked up.
"Go back to the
Council I must. Talk to Obi-Wan we will in time." He did not smile but
compassion lit his dark eyes. "Time also,
I think it is, for you to speak with Obi-Wan as well, hmm?"
Yoda said no
more, turning and leaving him staring in shock. Yoda had just lifted the
ban
against him meeting with his apprentice.
Had given him this gift he did not deserve.
And it a was
a gift he was damn determined not to waste!
***
He wandered not
quite aimlessly back to his quarters. Obi-Wan was feeling better. His
talk with Bant had helped to banish some
of the demon uncertainties he had not been totally
aware of harboring in himself. But, he
still was no more certain as to what the future held. Was
not certain what even to do.
"Obi-Wan?"
He looked up
with a start. The voice was familiar, but not expected.
"Master," the
word seemed to trip on his lips as he looked up at the towering Jedi.
Qui-Gon looked worn and tired, faced lined
with pains that still hovered around him like gnats.
But what touched him most was the sadness,
the worry in his eyes as Qui-Gon studied his
Padawan.
"Hello, Obi-Wan,"
Qui-Gon greeted him, voice rough but warm. "I was hoping we might
talk."
Obi-Wan frowned
worriedly.
"But won't you
get in trouble? Mace ordered you..."
Qui-Gon interrupted
with a slight gesture of his hand. "I have been granted a slight
reprieve from a high, or perhaps I should
say, low standing member of the Council."
Yoda. Obi-Wan
almost laughed at his Master's description of the short Jedi. Almost.
"If you are not
comfortable with this," Qui-Gon started at his hesitation, and Obi-Wan
could feel the hurt picking at the remnants
of their bond.
"No," he blurted,
"No, I would like to talk."
Qui-Gon offered
a small smile filled with relief and gestured to a nearby lounge. There
were many set up in the Temple, for use
in meditation and conversation. They sat not quite
across from each other, Obi-Wan tucking
his hands into his robe sleeves to hide his fidgeting.
The silence seemed almost oppressive but
Obi-Wan was uncertain what to say. Qui-Gon spoke
first, to his relief.
"How are you?
How is your injury?"
"Okay," he said.
"It's almost healed. It doesn't hurt anymore."
"It shouldn't
have hurt in the first place," Qui-Gon sighed wistfully. "I should
have not
hurt you. I'm glad that I can finally
tell you how sorry I am for attacking you like that. And tell you
how proud I am that you had the strength
to challenge me. Could stand by the ideals of the Jedi
even while I dismissed the code as nothing
more than a nuisance."
Obi-Wan was surprised
how much Qui-Gon's approval of his actions meant to him. How
it seemed to settle his unsettled stomach
and niggle at his aching heart.
"I had a good
teacher," he mumbled, feeling out of his element with Qui-Gon's open
confession.
Qui-Gon snorted
softly. "Have you? I wonder."
Obi-Wan didn't
know what to say to that, nor did Qui-Gon pause for any answer he might
come up with, continuing in a distant
voice. "The Council also wonders."
"Wonders what?"
Obi-Wan couldn't help but ask. Blue eyes flickered to him, resting
momentarily on his face before dropping
away.
"Whether I am
a good teacher for you."
"Oh," Obi-Wan
whispered, now really not sure what to say.
"They.. they
will speak to you about it," Qui-Gon added.
He spoke without
thinking. "Me?"
Qui-Gon nodded.
"Yes, you. They wish to know your feelings about.. remaining my
apprentice."
"Oh." And once
again he didn't know what to say.
"May.. may I
ask your feelings about it?" Qui-Gon pressed cautiously. Obi-Wan gulped
deeply, now totally unable to look at
his master. His earlier conversation with Bant rushed back
and his uncertainties, his fears, seemed
ready to overwhelm him.
"I.. see," Qui-Gon
murmured in the ensuing silence, failing to fully mask the hurt in his
voice.
Obi-Wan wanted
to say something reassuring, but if he did, it might not be the truth.
Instead, he answered a question with a
question.
"What do you
think about it?"
Qui-Gon was a
quiet a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I can understand the Council's
worries and even their actions. They are
not wrong in wanting the best for you. But I..." He
stopped and took a deep breath. "I hope
they will not. That they might grant me a reprieve to
prove myself worthy of being a teacher.
Of being your teacher." Then he turned to the young
man. "But before any of that might come
about, I must first ask your forgiveness. Your
forgiveness for failing you so miserably."
"You didn't fail
me," Obi-Wan blurted without thinking.
A sad smile graced
Qui-Gon's lips. "I did. In so many ways. I know I have done great
harm to our relationship, our bond, with
both my ignorance and arrogance."
"You were upset
about Tahl, Master. I understand that," Obi-Wan offered.
"Ah, but understanding
is not necessarily accepting." Qui-Gon nodded to himself. "And
what I did was not acceptable. What I
still want to do..."
"You're still
angry? About her death?" And Obi-Wan's earlier fear and apprehension
swelled up in him. He'd seen the fury
in Qui-Gon and it left him faltering in a sea of misgiving.
"I am. I try,
but cannot seem to be able to accept her being gone. Cannot release the
hatred in me that I should have done more.
To prevent her death. To avenge it."
Obi-Wan grew
darkly silent. The anger. The haze of emotions that had cut him off from
his Master and they were still there.
Still between them. He shivered without realizing it and was
startled when a hand touched his.
"Will you share
your thoughts with me?" Qui-Gon asked gently.
Obi-Wan licked
his lips uncertainly. What he had been thinking.. it wasn't flattering.
"Please, Obi-Wan?"
Another moments
silence then a sigh from himself. "I was thinking of how I hated the
anger. How.. How it came between us. How
it made you a stranger and kept you from.. from
letting me help you," he confessed in
a rush, fighting to keep tight rein on his emotions.
"Yes. I did let
my anger get in the way. I fear.. fear in the future it still might. I
will not
deny my own weakness. I just ask, and
hope for, your forgiveness for giving into my own failings.
"I can forgive
you, Master..." Obi-Wan murmured quietly.
"But?" Qui-Gon
filled in, uncertainly.
"I.. I'm not
sure about trusting you.. Master." It was the hardest thing for him to
say. And
when Qui-Gon grew silent, so still and
silent, he thought that anything and anyway to make
things right between them was lost.
"I'm sorry,"
he said for the lack of anything better. Qui-Gon did look at him now. Sternly
so.
"Do not apologize
for speaking the truth. Never!" he said firmly, then his features
softened. "You have every right for distrusting
me. I abused the trust you put in me."
"As I did to
your trust at Melida/Daan."
"No." Qui-Gon
shook his head. "Even at Melida/Daan I was failing you. I was judging you
by the actions of another. I was putting
you second to my own insecurity. You are Jedi. Your
whole life you have been taught to do
what you believe is right, not to simply follow blindly. You
tried. Tried to balance your need to help
with your desire to obey me. It was my failure, not
yours. I am your teacher, your guide,
but I only demanded and preached. I did not explain or
compromise."
"Tahl was hurt,"
Obi-Wan interjected meekly, now totally at a lost.
"Yes. And once
again I put your needs behind hers." The hand tightened around his
cautiously. "I can not ask you to so blithely
trust me again. I have no right, for trust, like all things
precious, must be earned." Qui-Gon took
a steadying breath. "I will not say it will be easy, what
the future might bring, but I do truly
desire to be allowed to try and regain that trust, Padawan."
Obi-Wan was silent
for a moment, processing what Qui-Gon had said. It was everything
he hoped for and yet, in a way, nothing.
Words. It was the actions that backed up those words
that truly mattered. Actions that would
require a degree of willingness on his part. A willingness
to try: to give Qui-Gon the time needed:
the chance wanted.
Then Bant's once
again too wise words returned to him. "Give it time, Obi-Wan. Give
yourself time. Give Qui-Gon time."
And
found the only answer, filled with uncertainty as it was,
that he wanted.
"I would like
to regain that trust too," he said at last in a small voice, daring a glance
up
to Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon meet his seeking gaze,
eyes warm and sad and regretful and yet hopeful.
Complex emotions for a complex man who
nodded with a slight smile himself. Then a large arm
reached out and gently encased him-- the
gesture so unlike his usually reserved Master that, for
a moment, Obi-Wan was frozen, uncertain.
"No matter what
the future holds for both of us, good or ill, remember that you are my
Padawan and I am be proud of you and will
care for you always," Qui-Gon told him softly, with a
sincerity that resonated through their
slowly healing bond. And at last he could bring his arms up
and give into Qui-Gon's unrelenting hug,
returning the tight embrace.
"I guess time
will be the ultimate judge for both of us," he managed, throat tight with
emotion and eyes once again threatening
to tear no matter how much he did not want them too.
Qui-Gon released
him, though he kept one hand on his good shoulder, looking down on
him with eyes that seemed suspiciously
wet as well.
"Wise words my,
Padawan. Wise words," he concurred, then a beep of pager rudely
announced itself. Qui-Gon pulled the small
unit from his robes and held it to his ear. Made a
noise of affirmation and secreted it away
again.
Both worried
and curious Obi-Wan waited till his Master faced him once more, features
grave but not so.. burdened, it seemed.
"I am summoned
before the Council," Qui-Gon said simply, putting no emphasis in the
words, or pressure on him for a response.
But, at last, Obi-Wan finally felt that it was time to do
something, something, if even in a small
way, to sort out this mess.
"I.. I would
like to accompany you, if I may? If you think it would be.. appropriate."
Qui-Gon smiled
gently. "Yoda did say the Council would wish to speak with you and I
would be happy for you to accompany me,"
he said, rising gracefully.
Obi-Wan rose
with him, settling in at his side. "Then we best be going," was all he
could
say. And it seemed enough, for both himself
and his Master.
Qui-Gon nodded
and led the way.
"Then let us
see what the future holds. For both of us."