Qui-Gon was surprised to be alive.

Extremely surprised.

Somewhat horrified, if he was to be honest.

Not that he wasn't grateful for every precious breath drawn and each experience formed in the world of the living, but he'd been rather positive that he'd been in the thrall of his final moments back in that generator room in the Theed palace. The Force had been all around him, both screaming that this was the NOW and some things MUST BE SAID, NO TIME FOR ANYTHING ELSE, and also whispering that all would be well, you have done what was needed, he could treasure the last few moments of now before he was both everything and nothing at the same time.

Qui-Gon had made his peace with his fate, few moments as he had to sort himself out since the piercing hole in his stomach. He took comfort in Obi-Wan's hands, the Force that whispered to him that his work was done. His work beyond the corporeal awaited, the grand tapestry of the galaxy would weave itself without the tangible threads of Qui-Gon Jinn and that was the way it needed to be.

And now, inexplicably, he was alive.

In all his studies of retaining consciousness after death, he was sure they'd never meant this.

So Qui-Gon did feel, for a moment, like he'd been betrayed by his deep faith and the Force he'd placed that faith in. But when he dipped his tired eyes closed again to center himself, he found the Force laughing at him. Young fool, it seemed to say, for they were all infants in the Force, you think you understand one moment, and so understand everything? Again, the pulse in his veins that he must give himself to the moment, one step with no light to guide his next one, and breathe in the life offered in each precious second. The lessons and purposes came after those faithful steps into the dark, not before.

So Qui-Gon accepted the new reality, and woke to life.

This is not to say Qui-Gon wasn't still unsettled by the whole thing. He merely accepted the situation, as he had accepted all the situations leading up to this one, but remained disturbed. "Truly, I think it would have been better for me to have died on Naboo," he told Obi-Wan after waking.

"Please don't say that, Master." The look on his Padawan's face begged to silence such speculation, but Qui-Gon couldn't shy away from speaking his feelings, especially now that he had the time to do so.

Time, yet also, so very little of it. "For whatever reason, it is the will of the Force that I be alive. The purpose will be revealed." He was about to begin a lecture on the nature of faith and listening for the promptings of the Force even when it boggled mortal understanding, but Obi-Wan cut him off.

"There is purpose enough in this moment."

Qui-Gon's heart wanted to weep, but he restrained himself to a small turn of his lips. "Attachment, Obi-Wan. I live, for now, but all things die. When they do, you must let them go."

"I know," Obi-Wan said, and Qui-Gon realized that the lecture was out of place. Obi-Wan had faced his anger alongside the Sith, and he'd faced his grief in the days before. Qui-Gon's physical death was a symbol of the severance that Obi-Wan had been forced to confront earlier. He won, but not easily.

None of these battles were easy. "Anakin," Qui-Gon said, sitting up properly in his bed. His midsection burned, it was beyond him how he'd managed to survive. Miracles. "Where is he? There is much to do." The Force didn't bring him back from the edge of oblivion to lay around and blink his eyelids. Even if his extended existence gave him greater appreciation for the marvels that were eyelashes, minuscule muscle movements and all the tiny things that made up the greater whole. He appreciated it, but had to let the indulgence go, there was work to be done.

Still, he let his hand stay clasped in those of his apprentice for a moment longer. "I have to see to his situation. He made it through all right, didn't he?"

"Yes, Master. And he will carry on my proud tradition of creative rule interpretation."

Qui-Gon inspected Obi-Wan's face, but found no bitterness or guile. Interesting. "What did he do?"

"Oh, it is much more entertaining to let him tell the tale himself," Obi-Wan waved a hand. "If less accurate. At any case, he is alive and well and probably terrorizing a pilot somewhere."

"You like him. Admit it."

"I never disliked him, Master. Only the situation."

At least they were being honest. Qui-Gon felt his voice lose some of it's strength. "And now?"

Obi-Wan's grip on his hand tightened, but his face betrayed no tension. "I am prepared to accept my role in this. With more grace than I did initially," he blushed in embarrassment. "There will be no obstacles to you training Anakin."

There was so much left to teach Obi-Wan. About life and death and life again. About the Force and how it moved in and out and around the Jedi Code, the intricacies of this galaxy and how Obi-Wan could go deeper than the platitudes everyone was so content to rely on and find real wisdom and purpose. Qui-Gon had studied things Masters refused to consider, knowledge the Force wept to see gathering dust, and he'd also grieved in his dying moments that he'd never pass on that knowledge. But the Force insisted he would, not in that moment, but in another, and there was no need to cling to the mortal plane.

Which made his current situation all the more puzzling, but perhaps this was what the Force meant? By not fighting death, did he open himself up to greater healing and thus allow himself to live and pass on that knowledge? "You are no obstacle. And your Knighthood will not be the end of our journey together."

Obi-Wan gave a pained smile. "About that..."

The weight of the Force slammed into him like a wave, like it had since he'd arrived on Tatooine, with it's calling of HEED ME, NOTHING IS MORE IMPORTANT, YOU KNOW YOUR COURSE. Qui-Gon took a moment to orient himself. "What happened while I was out?"

"Nothing of importance, just..." Obi-Wan shrugged. "Internal politics."

"Politics?"

"I don't mean to be impertinent..." Obi-Wan looked troubled for a moment, then shook it off. Qui-Gon found himself drawn to the little shifts of his apprentice's robe, the light whirring of droids and machines, the feel of air on his face. There was so much life and movement, did he pay attention to it all when he had the chance? But what chances existed, when there was so much work to be done, and it superceeded stopping to smell the roses? The Force which gave life, the Force which demanded Qui-Gon's attentions be put to use elsewhere, he was told to cherish these things with the same breath that told him to let go...

"There is a difference between impertinence and honesty, my Padawan."

"In that case, I believe the Jedi Council is trying to force your hand. Since no one wants Anakin trained but you, and you can't do so without my ascension or dismissal."

Qui-Gon felt very cold. "They want to see how far I'd go for this." Obi-Wan gave an uncomfortable nod.

"It is just a theory." But the correct one. Qui-Gon felt the Force ringing in dismay, begging him to act for he was the only one listening. Demanding that he stick to the path and let all other roads see to themselves.

He knew what he had to do, what he had been prepared to do before and what he would do before the end. Obi-Wan spoke as if he were reading off the day's itinerary. "Perhaps that accusation is unworthy of me. You were correct in your words to the Council. Capable is not the same as ready, and that is the stance they're taking." It took Qui-Gon a second to catch that revelation.

When he did, it was hard to dismiss his anger. "They won't allow you to take the Trials?"

"'Our own counsel will we take, on who is ready'," Obi-Wan did his best impression of Master Yoda, and looked as if he found the situation mildly amusing. "It is their prerogative, Master. And if no one else will train Anakin, then I would prefer stepping down to being dismissed." Force, but Obi-Wan was taking this unusually well. He looked almost bored.

But Qui-Gon remembered giving a thirteen year-old boy a river rock, and the days of self-questioning that followed. "You and I faced a Sith Lord, the Council can't possibly deny they've returned!"

"They don't," Obi-Wan whispered. Qui-Gon felt the dread pooling in the pit of his stomach.

"And still, they won't accept Anakin?" Even if they didn't believe the prophecy, which Qui-Gon himself hadn't put a shred of stock in until the Force was resounding in his ears like a sonic blast, they still had enough sense to recognize that the Force was strong with Anakin. Destiny and potential and life clung to him, and begged to be allowed to revive a garden that had started to wilt. Qui-Gon had tested his midichlorian count to appeal to the Council's need for rules, to get them to listen to something they seemed content to turn a blind eye to. Yes, the dark side clouded their judgement, but that was not due to the appearance of the Sith.

"Anakin is not to be admitted as an Initiate, or taken as a Padawan by another master," Obi-Wan said, confirming Qui-Gon's frustration. "I did try to plead his case. I even... I told the Council that I intended to train the boy, without their permission if need be."

"Really?" It took Qui-Gon's brain a few minutes to catch up with that, then he wished he'd kept his mouth shut.

"I promised I would," Obi-Wan replied. He didn't look hurt or offended, just sad. "I do think Master Yoda was considering it, but once you started turning from death's door, he doubled down. To train Anakin, I would have to leave the Jedi Order." His eyes peeked up from under thick lashes. "It's good you've returned to us after all. I am not ready to teach."

"You have all you need," Qui-Gon assured, but absently, his mind still whirring. Force, but the path would have been so much clearer if he'd have just died! "This is going to be complicated."

Obi-Wan's smile was small and tight. "It wasn't a few days ago. Your simple solution remains. I am ready to step down."

"Step down? No, that is not how this is going to go." Qui-Gon felt the Force swirling around him, refusing to be ignored. He didn't want to ignore it, he never could. But still, "We will fight this."

"We will lose."

"We may lose many battles before the end comes," Qui-Gon said, the words coming from a place beyond his consciousness. He paused then, considering. He was not gifted with prescience or prophecy, but the Force chose him to be his conduit in this grand plan that extended beyond time and stars?

Ah, but what was the span of forty or fifty years, when a stray second was not attended to? What were forty or fifty clicks, when a simple inch could derail an entire freighter? Keep your focus in the here and now, he'd always admonished his apprentice, take note of the present, for that was the foundation for the future moments.

Qui-Gon was tasked with these present moments. And in these present moments, Obi-Wan Kenobi was not his concern. "I have accepted my place in this," his apprentice said, still aloof, but sincere. "And I meant what I said, Master. It wasn't my place to disagree about the boy, and I don't."

Some hope sprung up in the midst of that internal rhetoric. "You believe he is the Chosen One, then?"

But Obi-Wan frowned, and averted his eyes. "I believe that you do." He placed his hands inside the opposite sleeves of his robes and tried to look unaffected. "Your connection to the Living Force has always been greater than mine. If I cannot get my own revelation from the Force on this matter, I will follow your guidance, as always."

And that simple faith struck Qui-Gon to the core. His student had many flaws, many aspects that Qui-Gon wished he had more time to polish before sending him off to face the Jedi Trials, but the trust and humility he displayed in that moment were enough to make Qui-Gon feel like an Initiate in the presence of a revered Master. The Force asked no more of it's servants than this, and needed no more.

With a raspy voice, Qui-Gon tried to speak, "You need no more guidance from me."

Obi-Wan deflected the praise. "I will do your training proud, Master. Whatever my future holds."

It was almost eerie, how Obi-Wan's responses were so perfect. If Qui-Gon had not sensed the utter lack of guile through the Force, he would have been concerned. For now, his heart merely quaked in remorse. "There has to be another way. The Council isn't acting on anyone's best interests, they've stooped to petty manipulation in order to avoid facing a hard truth!" It was frustrating enough to... Qui-Gon let the thoughts go. His former master, Dooku, had left the Jedi Council over such terrestrial failings in the Jedi leadership, threatened to leave the Order, but that could not be Qui-Gon's path. For all it's flaws, he needed the Jedi Order to guide him to the truth of the Force, and according to the Force, the Jedi needed him. As long as that path was open, Qui-Gon must continue to walk it. He sighed aloud, and reached into the Force around him for inspiration. "There has to be another way. I won't surrender either of you to their games."

Obi-Wan continued his facade of nonchalance. "There is no need to compromise on my behalf. Not when so much is at stake. The Force has seen fit to show me that much."

Qui-Gon stared for a moment. Life was far too precious, and too fleeting. He caught the dust motes as they drifted through sunbeams, much as Healer Vokara Che would protest than an ounce of dust contaminated her Halls of Healing. It was a beautiful sight, tranquil. Each fleck of light danced in front of Obi-Wan's luminous face like a star, his apprentice adrift in an endless expanse of life and nebula. If Qui-Gon's place was a tiny seed in the dirt, Obi-Wan was a spinning galaxy. Qui-Gon would grow into a larger tree, spreading seeds that would in turn become new lives and spread from forest to country to planet, while Obi-Wan could look deeper into himself and see entire communities in each narrowed focus, down to the tiniest atom. Somewhere in the middle, Master met with Apprentice.

The bits of dust filled Qui-Gon's vision. Had he given such sights proper appreciation before? Such a small thing in the grander scheme of the galaxy, one might even say less important than the many pressing concerns that required Qui-Gon's action and attention.

But precious. Beautiful. "I have work to do."

"I anticipated such, and have already negotiated with the Healers about your early release."

"Padawan, you are a treasure." Small, in the grander scheme of the galaxy. But Qui-Gon had been given back to mortality, and mortality was for enjoying the unimportant things.

Under Republic law, Anakin Skywalker was committed into the care and guardianship of Qui-Gon Jinn, and even the Jedi Council couldn't fight what that meant. Anakin was like a surrogate son, he had to live with his guardian, so even if the Jedi refused to teach Anakin, they couldn't kick him out of Qui-Gon's quarters.

"Yes, but how long do you think that will last?" Obi-Wan challenged when they were settled back on Couruscant. "They can't separate you from Anakin, but they can kick you out of the Order for disobeying the Code."

"Ki-Adi Mundi has wives and daughters," Qui-Gon dismissed with a wave of his hand, though the possibility concerned him as much as it did Obi-Wan. But as a Master, he had to present a brave face. "I am not the first Jedi to be granted special circumstances and allowed familial ties."

"Ki-Adi Mundi sits on the Council!" Obi-Wan shot back. "You've burned those bridges several times over! As time goes on, they will pressure you to find Anakin a foster family on Couruscant or leave the Order with him!"

"Are you talking about me?" a small voice piped up, and Obi-Wan raked a hand over his eyes. Qui-Gon gave him a small smile of sympathy. His padawan's impatience with others, particulalry Anakin, was something he was still trying to overcome, and it didn't help the strained relationship between the two that Anakin tended to eavesdrop on private conversations.

"No, Anakin, we're talking about me," Obi-Wan said in a voice that attempted to mask his irritation. "If Master Qui-Gon is to train you as needed, he has to accept that certain things are inevitable."

"Oh." Anakin tilted his head, curious. "I thought he was already teaching me stuff."

"The path to being a Jedi is a bit more involved than the simple meditation exercises I've shown you," Qui-Gon explained. "And I can't give you that training in secret, in our living room."

"Yeah, I guess you can't really swing a lightsaber in here," Anakin mused, eyeing the walls. Qui-Gon hoped he didn't return later in the day to find the boy had rearranged all their furniture to make more space.

"Among other problems." Qui-Gon turned back to Obi-Wan and sighed. "But it's not inevitable. I refuse to accept that. I'll leave the Order before it comes to that."

Obi-Wan bristled, temper starting to get the better of him. "After so much talk about following the will of the Force, you'll defy it now? Stop being selfish, Qui-Gon!"

Selfish? Qui-Gon's own feelings flared to the surface, like opening the door of a flaming oven. "That's enough, Padawan!" He had enough problems without his student retreating back to the insubordination that had colored the mission that started the whole mess, enough problems without Obi-Wan playing on his feelings by being so familiar. Enough problems without Obi-Wan forcing him into this unmakeable decision. "If you want to see selfishness, I suggest you start with a mirror."

That had been too much. Far too much. Qui-Gon knew that almost before he'd said it, but said it anyway because he was a horrible old man in denial, as he'd been since Obi-Wan was just an Initiate.

He watched Anakin's jaw hang open, watched Obi-Wan's clench, and eventually, his Padawan surrendered.

"I apologize. Forgive me, Master Jinn." Obi-Wan bowed low to the floor, then left the room, Anakin still gaping after him.

"Wow," he said after a tense second. "You guys don't say much, but it's like each word is a barfight!"

Qui-Gon couldn't help but agree.

He entered Obi-Wan's room without knocking, and swallowed hard at the travel bag he saw.

"Don't."

Obi-Wan turned, but kept his eyes down. "You're right, Master. It is selfish of me to remain in these quarters waiting only for you to dismiss me. It's not fair to force you into that role." His shoulders dropped slightly, as did his voice. "I lacked the courage to do what needed to be done."

"It is not cowardice to hope, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon stepped forward, then stopped. In his dying moments, or what he thought were his dying moments, he'd been able to touch Obi-Wan's face. A last act of defiance, to speak his heart when his words needed to speak for the Force.

Now, he couldn't touch Obi-Wan with a five-foot pole. Attachment. It was his fatal weakness, and his apprentice's as well. But to give in to wild grief and emotion would not make the situation easier, or the upcoming separation.

Whatever form that separation took. "I can admit to being a bit selfish in my own right. But I am aware of the stakes. This whole mess was my idea, remember?"

Obi-Wan just nodded. Perhaps Qui-Gon didn't need to have brought that up, but he wanted to drive the lesson home.

"We must abandon all things we fear to lose. But Jedi are also called upon to fight for just causes, to mediate disputes and find the best solution for all." He took another step, not close enough to touch, but just short of it. "It is possible you will have to leave the Jedi Order, but it is far from inevitable. Allow me the chance to fight by your side one last time."

Obi-Wan nodded again. He didn't speak. Qui-Gon didn't dare say any more.

But perhaps neither of them needed to. It had all been said on Naboo.

All they needed was another Master willing to finish Obi-Wan's training until such a time as he was able to face the trials. Qui-Gon would be free to train Anakin, Obi-Wan would be guided to his eventual knighthood, no one had to face disgrace or exile. It would hurt to break the precious relationship between teacher and student but otherwise it was the best possible outcome.

However, finding a teacher for Obi-Wan proved difficult. "His record says he attacked another Initiate with a training saber!"

"The boy was framed," Qui-Gon informed the old Knight with venerable calm, while inside he questioned why on earth the Council had let the accusation stand when they knew for themselves it was false the instant Bruck Chun reported it. No, they hadn't pardoned Kenobi and instead expedited his trip to the Agri-Corps, all of which became a moot point in time.

But not to an outsider, who didn't know Padawan Kenobi beyond his reputation. "This is the same Kenobi who left the Jedi Order? And didn't he stand trial for the suspicious death of his rival?" Another questioned with a shake of the head. "I've heard the rumors about you two. I'm too old to take on an apprentice that's learned your rebellious ways."

"Yes, I remember little Obi-Wan," mused another. "A good-intentioned boy, but so angry... clumsy, too. I honestly thought the Service Corps were the best place for him, he'd have been so helpful there."

"You're mistaken. Obi-Wan has great potential as a Knight, and is the most obedient student I've ever trained," Qui-Gon tried to plead, to convince all of those believing his apprentice to be obstinate and anger-driven, or a small clone of his maverick master.

"Maybe too obedient," yet another argued. "I've worked with your Padawan several times and I'm not sure there's an original thought in his head! He follows rules and protocol like a droid. Smart, but I need a student who can think for himself."

Qui-Gon wanted to throw things. Either Obi-Wan was too wild and reckless, or not reckless enough? No one who knew him would get such a distorted picture, but those options were few.

"I already have a Padawan," reminded Adi Gallia, and Plo Koon was being sent on an extended mission to the other end of the galaxy, into a situation that wouldn't be beneficial to a Senior Padawan preparing for his trials. Beggars could not be choosers, but Plo Koon seemed to think his mission best accomplished alone, anyway. Ki-Adi Mundi just didn't want to take a student.

"Please, Mace." Qui-Gon was just short of getting on his knees. "You know it won't be much longer. The boy's faced a Sith Lord in battle and more than one emotional trial since that blasted mission began, there's not much more preparation to give! All you have to do is accept the responsibility for a short time, until you finally allow him to be tested."

"You're so convinced the time will be short?" Mace asked, and Qui-Gon resisted the urge to punch him in the face.

"If I had recommended him a day before Naboo, no one would have questioned me!"

"We might have questioned you some. Kenobi is still young."

"But capable! You know he is!" Realization dawned. "You'd hold him back just to spite me?"

Mace looked sympathetic. "Qui-Gon, I recognize that young Skywalker is powerful, possibly even the Chosen One, but-"

"But what, Mace?" Qui-Gon reigned in his anger, but allowed the strong feeling to find purpose in his words. "Is this what the Council has become? Denying gifts of the Force to those who would learn while they cower from vague visions that cannot even be interpreted? Using another worthy Padawan as a chess piece?"

"That's not what we're-"

"That's all you've ever done with Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon cut. "Don't pretend you and Master Yoda weren't manipulating me into taking a student, him in particular. And when I wouldn't budge, he could have lost his future." Could have lost his life, if Qui-Gon remembered the mission correctly. "Perhaps the Force guided your decisions then, but it's the last thing guiding them now."

Mace Windu's face resembled a storm cloud. "Remember to whom you speak."

"A Jedi cares not for earthly stations, respect is given to the Force," Qui-Gon retorted. "For all the Coucil's wisdom, you are a group of mortals flailing in the dark because you think you are so much more intelligent than the light." He turned on his heel and left Mace behind. "It is just as well you refuse. Obi-Wan deserves a better caliber of teacher."

That argument came back to haunt him when he approached young Luminara Unduli, a very recent graduate to the rank of Jedi Knight. "Your Padawan needs more than I can provide, Master Jinn," she protested. "I was only just a learner myself! I don't know what guidance I could give Kenobi now, I'm still learning what Knighthood means!"

"But that is why you're an excellent candidate," Qui-Gon pressed. "The trials are fresh in your mind! Who better to help him prepare?"

Luminara considered this, but still looked hesitant. If it were under any other circumstances, Qui-Gon would not ask a Knight to take on a Padawan so soon. Teaching was a gift, but there was an education needed from carrying out solo missions and gaining life experiences that not only benefited the individual, but all others they would teach in the future. A padawan was a heavy burden to place on one before they were ready.

But the circumstances were dire, and he'd asked the same thing of Obi-Wan. "He's not a child you have to raise," Qui-Gon reminded. "He just needs a bit of coaching and polishing before his final trial. And with this situation, well, it's unusual. I'm not ashamed to say I'm a little desperate." He tried to impress upon her the importance of this. "This isn't Obi-Wan's fault. I just need someone to take up his education, he's capable of being Knighted already. Anyone will do."

"That's the problem, isn't it?" Luminara replied slowly. "The bond between a Padawan and their Master is a precious thing, the Force guides them together. A teacher should have something worth sharing, a love for their student or a reverence for the importance of the calling, yet here we are trying to foist Kenobi off on anyone with a pulse."

She refused, in the end. They all did.

"How did it go?"

Qui-Gon wasn't sure what was worse; reporting his failure, or the look in Obi-Wan's eyes that suggested all efforts were inevitable from the start. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "There's a shortage of Masters to begin with. Of those available, most are hesitant to take an adult student. It's the same reason no one will train Anakin."

Obi-Wan watched him for a moment, a cavern of deep, loaded silence. Just a few meters away, Anakin lay on the floor with his attention absorbed in a datapad. Qui-Gon had given him orders to read and complete a few homework assignments to gauge his level of education, but it seemed Anakin had gotten bored and started looking up ship models.

It was hard to have these heavy discussions with Obi-Wan with an interloper in their quarters, but there was nowhere to send him. The third body in the apartment was stretching out the walls, even when Anakin was on his most reserved behavior. The sooner this was resolved, the better.

Then again, maybe he could stand to drag the uncertainty out for longer, if it meant he got to keep Obi-Wan. His apprentice smiled. "Thank you for trying, but I did tell you so, Master."

"You're a pessimist."

"I am acutely aware of my own history," Obi-Wan corrected tersely. "And how people see me. Yoda had to cajole you for years to take me on."

"That was less about you and more about me, and you know it."

"No one was eager to snatch me up in the meantime. There are many who feel I ought not to be here now, after Melida/Daan."

The frustration reached a boiling point and Qui-Gon challenged Obi-Wan. "Why are you so afraid to hope? I should think you would want this to succeed!" His Padawan was silent. "Are you so attached to me as your teacher that you won't consider anyone else?"

He would have said more, but the look on Obi-Wan's face stopped him. Or, rather, the lack of look. Those who would call his apprentice a mindless droid, and blind follower likely had seen this habit of Obi-Wan's before. The boy could slam durasteel shields around himself and render himself so eerily calm, to hide the storm that hid underneath.

And there was a storm, Qui-Gon knew this man from his childhood beginnings. Every ounce of Obi-Wan's control was hard won, and that work was on full display now.

"I have made petitions of my own," his apprentice said, and then had to stop and gather himself again. That revelation alone was so fraught with tumult. Obi-Wan swallowed, then continued. "Please do not think it was easy, to have my inadequacies listed before my face."

He could not say more. Qui-Gon felt his heart break.

"It is not your inadequacy, Padawan. There are far more students than teachers-"

"That is only part of the problem." Obi-Wan tried not to shiver, tried not to break composure. It was an effort for him, but his voice remained calm. "No one wants a student that even you would dismiss. But please don't insinuate that I didn't make appeals regardless of that."

Qui-Gon tried to picture it, his apprentice approaching various Masters and begging to be taught. He tried, but kept seeing a little initiate just shy of his thirteenth birthday.

"As for hope," Obi-Wan said with only a slight hitch. "My hope is in the Force. As my teacher has shown me. All will be well."

Emotion tugged at Qui-Gon's heart. "Do you really believe that?" He didn't know why he said that, what prompted the thought. Or, he didn't want to think of where the thought came from.

And it was a mistake to have said it aloud. Obi-Wan looked stricken. Then, offended.

"Master, you are not the one I need to prove my commitment to. Not before and certainly not now." He glared a little, before reigning the anger in. "I finally realize that. But if you require proof for your own satisfaction, hand me a pair of hair scissors and I will provide that right now."

"No," Qui-Gon breathed, and it held enough apology that Obi-Wan was sated. Anakin looked up from his datapad, cast his eyes over the two Jedi, then looked back down. "No. You won't leave me that way." He stepped closer, wishing for the first time in his life he was anything but a Jedi. "I wanted this to work."

"I know." Obi-Wan forced a pale smile. "I did, too."

The next morning, Qui-Gon Jinn faced the Jedi Council with his Padawan, and formally dismissed him from his tutelage.

It was not pleasant.

After some debate, stunned debate, Qui-Gon noticed, the Council decreed that Obi-Wan would vacate his Master's quarters and be demoted to the rank of Initiate for the period of one week. In that time, he could be accepted by another Master and his rank reinstated. Qui-Gon hoped that this situation would highlight the need to the other Jedi and over-ride some small hesitations on taking Obi-Wan as a student, but as the days wore on, that hope proved futile.

"There is no need to speak on it, Master," Obi-Wan said during one of Qui-Gon's visits to the Initiate wing. His apprentice had endeared himself to all the young hopefuls and became quite a celebrity in those quarters. It was not every 'Initiate' who could take down a Sith. "I have accepted my place."

"But you deserve to be taught," Qui-Gon tried, only to be met with a rare face full of emotion.

"Please," Obi-Wan said, at the edges of his control. "I wish you would not speak of it." Little Initiates ran to and fro in the room, gathering books and datapads for class, wielding any nearby objects as mock lightsabers or trying to peer around Qui-Gon to get a glimpse at Anakin.

Anakin ignored them and cast a look about the room. "Everyone here is so much younger. Is there a bed big enough for you?" Qui-Gon almost chided him, but Obi-Wan laughed.

"Unfortunately, no. I'll spend the week sleeping on the floor."

"Huh," Anakin said in sympathy. "That's poodoo. Even Watto got us houses with beds." Qui-Gon now wasn't sure what to say, but Obi-Wan continued to chuckle, so he left it at that.

Back in their quarters, Anakin was restless. "So, what happens if no one picks Obi-Wan after a week?"

"I don't know," Qui-Gon said, busy preparing dinner. He needed something to busy his hands and mind. Dinner was usually a shared task with his apprentice, though Anakin didn't know the first thing about cooking. "Initiates who can't be paired to a master often get appointed to one of our Service divisions. Obi-Wan was assigned to Agri-Corps before studying with me, I wouldn't be surprised if he was reassigned back to them."

"What do they do there?"

"In Agri-Corps, they grow food for people and worlds in need. Sometimes they revitalize worlds that have lost their plant life to war or pollution."

"Wow..." Anakin looked genuinely impressed. "Could they do stuff like that on Tatooine?"

"It might be difficult, but I've heard of them accomplishing other difficult tasks," Qui-Gon thought of Bandomeer. "The real problem is that Tatooine is not a Republic world. If someone tried to make a forest or farming enterprise on Tatooine, even for charity, the Hutts would just break it down. Sometimes the soil has to be prepared before planting can begin."

Anakin looked confused, then burst into nodding. "Oh! I think I get it. Like how if a slave actually escapes or gets freed, it doesn't really matter 'cause the cartels just buy more, right?" Qui-Gon paused before answering, allowing Anakin to elaborate. "Mom said the galaxy wouldn't change by freeing all the slaves, but by making people stop wanting to buy slaves."

"Your mother has an enlightened perspective," Qui-Gon acknowledged. "The Jedi swear to uphold the Republic, because it can create lasting change across the galaxy. It's not always perfect," especially lately, Qui-Gon had to admit, "But its ideals are ones of peace and freedom for it's citizens, and its a body capable of addressing the many societal problems that allow slavery and the like to flourish. The wider the Republic's influence can spread, the more likely we will be able to bring reform to worlds like Tatooine. Rather than free a dozen individual slaves, we can free several generations of people."

"That's... hard to understand." Anakin plunked his arms down on the counter. "But neat, I guess." He picked at his sleeve for a minute. "You freed me, though. Like, it didn't change the galaxy, but it made a difference, didn't it?"

"To you. And to me," Qui-Gon replied, not sure how the conversation turned into a philosophical discussion so quickly. Anakin had that effect, jumping from topic to topic with distraction and earnest honesty. "But there are more slaves on Tatooine than you and your mother, and plenty more in the slave trade to take their place. And many hungry people and destroyed worlds. We do what we can to help, as Jedi and as people, but one must take care that their actions in the moment benefit more than just the moment, yes?"

"Like, if I eat a muja fruit, it'll taste good then, but then there's no food for dinner tomorrow?"

"Something like that."

"And that's why Obi-Wan's leaving? Even though he doesn't want to?"

Qui-Gon's hands stilled. He couldn't speak, but he managed a nod. Anakin looked sympathetic.

"I missed my mom, too, when I had to leave her. We can be sad together." He paused. "Are Jedi allowed to be sad?"

"A Jedi cannot allow grief to prevent them from serving, or from doing what's right," Qui-Gon said, voice wooden. His hands trembled for a bit, before he brought them back under control. "But yes, we are allowed to be sad..."

Qui-Gon instated Anakin Skywalker as his Padawan, despite all protests and advice to the contrary. He could tell it made Anakin a little uncomfortable, and the boy kept insisting he didn't want to be a problem. Qui-Gon tried to explain things as best he could, without emphasizing too much on the prophecy of the Chosen One. He didn't know for himself what that meant, just that the Force said it was true and Anakin needed to be trained in the light. What else could Qui-Gon do?

Obi-Wan was not chosen by any Master. His flight to the small Outer Rim world of Dashani was scheduled within a few days. Qui-Gon made sure to invite him for dinners, meditation and saber practice at every opportunity.

Anakin was always by his side, and peppered Obi-Wan with questions. "So, you'll be a farmer on Dashani? That's near Tatooine, right? Will any of the food go there?"

"It's possible. The relief programs working with the facility often bring supplies to non-Republic worlds in that area."

"That's good." Anakin frowned. "I wonder how much of that goes to people who need it? Everyone back home is a dirty cheat."

"Such generalizations are unkind," Qui-Gon chided. "You're not a cheat. Your mother is no cheat. The shopkeepers I saw you helping in your neighborhood were good and kind."

Anakin blushed and waved his hands. "Yeah, I just mean that people in charge can be sleamos!" he protested. "Like, what if all the black market food came from raiding these supplies that come? I just thought of that! Food had to come from somewhere, right?"

"All we can do is try our best with what we've been given," Obi-Wan said in his most diplomatic voice. It was a marvelous feat for him, seated cross-legged on the floor of the apartment. He'd been trying to meditate with Anakin for a good hour now, but Anakin was too talkative to settle down. Qui-Gon sensed Obi-Wan's frustration and feeling that the Master in this situation should be imposing order, but Qui-Gon let the situation proceed as it was. At present, Anakin was getting more out of talking to Obi-Wan than meditation, and that gift would only last a few more days. He focused on other tasks, and let the boys continue.

"Master Qui-Gon said you used to be a farmer. Like now? That true?"

"For a few days," Obi-Wan snorted. "I wouldn't call it experience."

"Did you like it?"

Qui-Gon sensed Obi-Wan struggling for a lie, and hid a smile. He stepped out of the room for a moment, but could still hear the voice of his old apprentice caving in. "Not really, no. But life gives us many missions we don't like. This is true of both Padawans and farmers. Jedi dedicate their lives to service, not to personal gain."

A very diplomatic answer. Qui-Gon wondered how much of that Obi-Wan believed, and how much his former student just wanted to believe. For his part, Qui-Gon was still amazed that Obi-Wan was facing this which such calm.

"You don't want to go, do you?" the voice of Anakin chirped. "I can tell. You have to go away because Mister Qui-Gon can't train us both at the same time." Qui-Gon jerked, and rushed back to the room.

But his feet stopped just short of entering, hanging back at the sight of his former apprentice. So calm, so soft, and yet so tense. On the outside, a perfect Jedi. On the inside... "You are correct. I would stay, given the chance."

"But you're going. Because Jedi are all about doing stuff for other people." Anakin was quiet, regarding Obi-Wan with his bright, thoughtful eyes.

He settled in front of Obi-Wan, legs crossed, mimicking the posture. "I promise, I'm gonna be as good a Jedi as you, okay? I'm not gonna forget... what it means."

The Force pounded in Qui-Gon's ears. It sang and roared and whispered. This was destiny, laid bare before him, and Qui-Gon did not understand, but recognized the importance and power.

There was nothing for him to do in that moment but watch. And so, he did. Anakin closed his eyes as if trying to meditate, but he kept on chattering. "And when I'm a Jedi, I'll make those Council guys start training more than one Padawan, so everyone gets to learn about the Force."

Obi-Wan smirked. "You'll have a very busy Knighthood. Is this before or after you plan to free all the slaves of Tatooine?"

A return grin from Anakin, brighter than both of Tatooine's suns. "Maybe I'll do them both at the same time?"

"Ah, I'll miss our little talks." Obi-Wan was too distracted by the fidgeting boy to meditate, but he looked content. "You will be an excellent Knight, Anakin. I don't doubt that at all..."

The night before Obi-Wan's departure, Qui-Gon left his quarters and strode down to the Initiate's Wing. He entered with stealth and roused Obi-Wan. "Grab your things. We're going."

"What? Master?" Still with the familiar address. Not "Master Jinn", not some generic title, either. He was still Obi-Wan's master in spirit, if not on record.

"You're not going into the Agri-Corps. Not after all that training, you're made for so much better. Come now, we're leaving!"

Obi-Wan rose, but made no move to gather his travel pack. He whispered, "What difference does it make how or where I serve? I can think of nothing that embodies the spirit of the Jedi than the Agri-Corps!"

"Really?" Qui-Gon challenged. "You really think that's the place for you?"

Obi-Wan's jaw clenched. "We are not discussing this here!"

Amidst a wing full of sleeping children, Qui-Gon agreed this was no place for discussion, though he was a little surprised that Obi-Wan felt the need to discuss. The two drifted into the hall, where Anakin waited, bouncing from foot to foot.

"Mister Qui-Gon says we're going to train outside the temple!" he exclaimed, though in a low voice. "The three of us!"

"Oh, he did, did he?" Obi-Wan turned, and the look he gave Qui-Gon was colder than Hoth.

Qui-Gon felt the need to defend himself. "I can train Anakin in the ways of the Jedi just as easily within the confines of the Order as without."

"This is the will of the Force?" Obi-Wan asked, but it wasn't a question. He looked unimpressed, and intimidating for a former Padawan with mussed hair, bare feet and clad only in sleep clothes. Qui-Gon didn't know why he felt so small.

"It's the only solution."

"For what?" Obi-Wan asked, and the world groaned around them. Qui-Gon wondered that the whole Temple didn't go deaf from the way the Force wailed. But he dug in his feet and clung to his resolve.

That's when Obi-Wan's expression changed to one of pity. "Master, I am going to join the Agri-Corps tomorrow morning. Don't come see me off."

"What? Obi-Wan-"

"Goodbye, Qui-Gon." And with those words of finality, Obi-Wan left his former master and Anakin standing in the hall.

"I think you hurt his feelings," Anakin said on the way back to quarters.

"What?" Qui-Gon's voice was gruff, and it caused the boy to shrink. He winced, remembering times when he and a younger Obi-Wan were out of sync, and the actions of a master seemed so much more loaded than they were. Anakin probably had enough problems with that dynamic already, as a former slave, and didn't need Qui-Gon taking out frustrations with a former student on him. "I apologize, Ani. What do you mean?"

"Well, I just get the feeling that Obi-Wan really loves you," the boy replied, adjusting his travel pack. "And maybe he wishes you would show it a little better."

Qui-Gon was thoroughly confused. But now was not the time for that. He crouched on one knee, prepared to teach Anakin one of the hardest Jedi lessons. "Anakin, a Jedi is supposed to feel love and compassion for all. But we must forgo personal attachments. Obi-Wan knows this."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Anakin grimaced. "Mister Yoda said that, it's why I can't call Mom, right?" He looked a little unhappy, but not as much as Qui-Gon would have expected.

"Yes..." he said slowly. "It's not wrong to love. But attachment is selfish, and there's a fine line between love that is selfless and love that is self-serving. The Jedi Council may someday change their policies on families and marriage, but they currently have very strict rules." He didn't want to lie to Anakin, hard as it was. "I disagree with many of those rules, but the principle behind them is one I believe in. In time, I will help you understand those principles so you form your own opinions."

"I think I get it," Anakin broke in, with such easy dismissal that it surprised Qui-Gon. "I mean, I've had a lot of stuff to deal with the past week or so, but I think I know. 'Cause I want to be with Mom all the time, but to hang around on Tatooine, I can't help anyone else. And her not letting me be a Jedi 'cause she misses me, then that's not really me she loves, just her. So we had to say goodbye. That proves she loves me, and everyone else in the galaxy." He beamed up at Qui-Gon. "Like Obi-Wan loves you and me! He forgo-ed or whatever his attachment stuff 'cause he loves us, and now he's gonna be a farmer. Staying would have made trouble. That's attachment, right? When you say you love someone but you're really only doing something 'cause you can't handle being without them, you don't even think how it might hurt someone else?"

Qui-Gon felt shattered. Even the Force went silent. "Yes, Anakin, that's it exactly."

Morning came. Light filtered onto the landing platform, creating long shadows behind the bench where Obi-Wan sat waiting for his freighter to arrive. He was dressed in simple clothes, with a travel pack resting near his feet. He still bore his Padawan braid, but the nerf-tail was gone.

Qui-Gon took a deep breath. He'd spent all evening in meditation, but that didn't make this any easier. He crossed the landing platform and stopped next to his old apprentice. "Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan started, then stood. "Master, please-"

"I didn't come to dissuade you." Though he wished he had. "I don't want to make this more difficult than it already is." He stopped then, emotions clogging his throat.

Obi-Wan offered a tired smile. "I don't care about difficulty, Master. As long as you don't stop me." He paused, then offered, "It wasn't easy, accepting this new stage of my life, and I suspect it won't get easier in a hurry. But if you believe in me and the cause, it helps."

"I know." Qui-Gon closed his eyes. "You always were so willing to give up everything, when the greater good came before you. For all you loved me to the point of attachment, you could let go." Here, on Melida/Daan, on Naboo. But they never used words like 'love'. It felt foreign now. "I've always admired that trait in you."

"I did my best," was the reply of his ever-humble apprentice. "You taught me how."

"I taught you what not to do, every single time," Qui-Gon moaned, only to earn a chuckle from Obi-Wan.

"And now, you will teach Anakin."

Qui-Gon stopped, and looked into the face of the young man who was no longer his student. Providing the ultimate object lesson to a little sponge who picked up the world around him, so long as the Master supported the example. "When did you get so wise?"

Obi-Wan didn't answer. "I have much to learn yet."

"Learning does not stop at Knighthood." Qui-Gon reached out an put a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. He could allow himself that. "We are all students in the Force, Jedi and otherwise. I know your path does not end here."

"It is the right path, for now," Obi-Wan agreed. "I will walk it with pride, wherever the Force takes me." His smile twitched, and he continued, "After all, your first apprentice came from humble farmers. It's only fitting that I give back."

Qui-Gon almost fell off the landing platform. "How do you know about Feemor?" Obi-Wan didn't answer immediately, and Qui-Gon realized it didn't matter who or where the information had come from. There was love in Obi-Wan's smile, and more important things to discuss. "You've not cut your braid," he gestured to the thin symbol of Obi-Wan's apprenticeship. "Will you allow me the honor?"

"Actually..." Obi-Wan's hand twitched, as if to dart up and protect it. "With your permission, I'd like to keep it. I know it's foolish," he hurriedly said, "But it has meaning to me. My apprenticeship isn't over." He straightened, now full of confidence. "I intend to live as a Jedi, even if I don't live among them. I'll cut this braid when I have completed my training."

In that moment, Qui-Gon saw Obi-Wan's future, an old man among sand dunes, lonely. But oh, so bright in the Force! And the same Force that promised Qui-Gon on his deathbed that his days of teaching Obi-Wan were not over thrummed in the air. "Good. For I have so much left to teach you. Prepare yourself to be worthy of it."

"I will."

It was then that Qui-Gon reached into his robes, and pulled out his lightsaber. "I need to give you this."

Obi-Wan accepted it, and turned it over in his hands. The very air around them seemed to warm, and Qui-Gon knew he'd made the right decision. The Force sang with rightness. "I don't understand. This is a Jedi weapon. This is yours, I can't-"

"You picked it up after I fell. It's place is with you, now." Qui-Gon held strong, no tears would crack his resolve. "Perhaps it is only a sentimental parting gift, but I have the feeling it will be more useful than that. Dark times are coming, and we will need you, Obi-Wan. Be ready."

The serious tone in which he spoke seemed to steel Obi-Wan, and he nodded. Around them, the Force swirled with all that would be, all that would change from this moment and all that went unchanged. The galaxy was in a state of turmoil, imbalance, and it went beyond the threat of the Sith.

They would need a young farmer with the heart of a Jedi. "I understand. I will be ready." But Obi-Wan paused, eyes sparkling in mischief. "Does Master Yoda know about this?"

"I intend to inform him after your transport has gone beyond all chance of recall." He smiled, but sadly. "This is not the way I hoped this would go."

"I know. But I'm glad you could let go in the end. I was growing worried." Yes, Qui-Gon could have gone back on his promise to the Force, trained Obi-Wan instead of Anakin, taken them both and left the Jedi Order. Or watched Obi-Wan go with bitterness in his heart, a grudging sense of duty to his new pupil... but that wasn't what the Force asked for him, what the Force called for.

How the future would play out, Qui-Gon couldn't say. What small changes were made in order to temper the earth to receive new seeds, he could not know. Perhaps nothing changed by his being spared on Naboo, perhaps everything did. But he and his apprentice were one with the Force, and Qui-Gon trusted in that. He accepted that.

"You have been a better Jedi these few days than your Master, or any of the Council." It was high praise, and Qui-Gon meant every word, though Obi-Wan tried to wave it off. "I mean it. You have everything you need to have passed your trials, trained Anakin, whatever the Force required of you." He tried to convey with words what he felt in his heart, what he felt the Force telling him now. "Your situation was always the disadvantaged one, and it always will be, but you will do more with failure than anyone can ever do with success."

"I'm not sure I understand, Master." No, he couldn't understand. Not now. Maybe he never would while on the mortal plane. "But I know now, the Force is my ally, and it is more powerful than anything I could face. Including personal loss and failure."

"Then you have learned what some never do." Qui-Gon stepped forward and crushed his apprentice in an embrace, finally allowing himself the indulgent act. There was no pain now, only pride, hope, selfless love. "We will meet again, dear one. I am forever with you in the Force."

"As I am with you," Obi-Wan whispered back. "May the Force be with you, Master. You will need all it's sustaining power if you are to keep up with a younger, fresh-faced Padawan-ouch!" Obi-Wan yelped as Qui-Gon tugged on his braid, but there was no malice in the action.

He was no longer afraid to lose Obi-Wan.

With that, there was nothing left to be said. Practicality would suggest Qui-Gon return to the temple and prepare for his day. There was much to do, to train Anakin.

But it did not all have to be done at once, and he was not one with the Living Force, but mortal. Mortality was for enjoying the small things, the tiny motes of dust that seemed insignificant against the greater demands of the galaxy. Small things, that could grow into more, that contained whole universes inside them.

Qui-Gon sat with his apprentice, and remained there until the transport arrived. Then, he bid farewell one last time, and returned to the temple.

He didn't look back. There was no need.