Hello everyone! Wow, it's been a long time since I last posted something about Star Wars (more than three years to be exact), so I needed a little something to come back in the game. For those of you who have read my fan fiction 'Running Away' about Anakin and Padmé, I'm currently working on a new chapter. Better late than never.
About this little one shot, it came rather unexpectedly to my mind when I listened to the Jonas Alaska's song where the title and the quote at the beginning come from. It made me think of Anakin and Obi-Wan's friendship, and perfectly reflected what I imagined Anakin would feel if he had been the one to survive and not his former master. This is thus a brief exploration of this "what if." Just to remain you, English is not my first language, so I hope this thing will still be readable ;)
Warning : for Major character's death.
Disclaimer : Star Wars and Jonas Alaska's song do not belong to me and I earn no money to write this fan fiction.
Enjoy and review please!
oOo
If only as a ghost
oOo
"Could you please come back to me, if only as a ghost,
I might not be alone in grief, but I need you most.
You're not just my older brother, you're my best friend,
I've never got the time to tell you that, so please, come back again."
oOo
The eastern gardens of the Jedi Temple are deadly quiet. Even the endless buzzing sound of speeders in the Coruscanti sky, which can usually be heard at any time of day and night, doesn't trouble the silence of this place. It is as if the Force itself is stopping any noise from entering here.
This peaceful silence is the calm after the storm of blaster fire and clatters of clone troopers footsteps that echoed all around the Temple not so long ago. It has only been a few days, but the specter of the attack is still looming in the air, still present in the form of burns, scratches and holes on the walls of the Temple. Still present in the minds and hearts of the padawans, knights and masters alike. Never the home of the Jedi Order has known such a profanation. Losses are many, sorrow lives in every heart, but the Order is still standing and will rise again.
While the rest of the galaxy is coming out of the astonishment and the disillusion that followed the discovery of their Supreme Chancellor's betrayal, the Jedi are tending their wounds. Time will come, to meet with the Senate, take part in new elections, repair the damages caused by nearly four years of civil war. But for now, it's time to mourn, to say a last farewell to those who have sacrificed their lives and are now one with the Force.
The Clone Wars had already decimated the ranks of the Jedi. Once the guardians of peace and justice in this galaxy, the members of this order even older than the Republic itself were forced to become soldiers, leaders of an army they didn't ask for. For nearly four years, battles were fought, some lost, other won, a sense of brotherhood appeared between the clones and their Jedi commanders. They were all in the same nightmare, always on the frontlines, in situations that put their lives at risk on a daily basis. They had come to rely on each other, had saved each other's lives on many occasions, had become brothers in arms.
Until a few days ago. Until the betrayal.
It is still a fact difficult to process for some of the knights and masters that have been fighting in the war during the past years. How could those men they have come to respect and trust turn their weapons against their own commanders? How could it be?
Some people, however, manage to see a silver lining in this storm of dark clouds. The attack only reached the Temple. After Darth Sidious's death, the investigators of the Senate found documents describing the extent of what had been called Order 66. It could have been worse. So much worse. The annihilation of the entire Jedi Order, pure and simple. But the Chancellor didn't get the time to transmit the order to the rest of the army, before Anakin Skywalker's lightsaber separated his head from his body.
The role the clones played in the attack has been difficult to hide. At first, the Jedi wanted to denounce them, suppress this army as they would have suppressed them. but long hours of discussions and reasoning from the Senate have dissuaded them. they will need the support of the clones to rebuild what has been destroyed during the war. So they decided to omit a few things when they addressed their report to the Holonet. The squad that attacked the Temple was under Palpatine's orders, a renegade part of the army that has been disposed of. However, the Senate isn't blind enough to think that the jedi won't be wary of the clones in the future.
In the days following the attack, the Jedi have started to repair what the clones damaged. The wounds of the heart, though, will need more time to heal. Some have lost a master, a padawans, a friend. Almost every day, a funeral is held in a part of the Temple. Most of the time, only those close to the fallen attends the ceremony. Like every other aspect of a Jedi's life, his or her funeral is a moment of quiet and soberness.
Today's ceremony is different, though. Many people are standing in the gardens around the funeral pyre. Because today, they pay homage to a Jedi who was one of the greatest of all. Even people outside the Order are present, to say a last goodbye to this man who left an eternal mark on their lives.
A light wind enters the place through the open sailing and come to play with the dark blond curls of one of the men standing near the pyre. His demeanor is this of a real Jedi; quiet, an almost blank expression on his face, stoicism personified. He holds his head high, look straight ahead, in a military posture that those who fought by his sides during the war observed many times. No feeling gets through the walls carefully built around him.
But those who know him better, those who look beyond the walls can see this man is silently screaming in agony. His blue eyes, usually as pure as a summer sky on Naboo, are an open door to his soul. Sorrow, disbelief, regret and pain fight to take control in the storm of emotions that's raging in his heart. If someone looks closer at his stance, he will see the stiffness of his shoulders, a military façade to hide his sorrow behind. If he look straight ahead, it's not with pride or arrogance. It's only because he doesn't want to see the lifeless body lying there, on the cold marble of a funeral pyre. Because he can't associate the idea of a funeral pyre with the man to whom this body belongs.
It doesn't make any sense to him. It's insane, unbelievable. It can't be true.
Anakin Skywalker has suffered greatly in his life. As a slave on Tatooine, when he had to leave his mother behind to become a Jedi, the only family he has ever known. When Qui-Gon Jinn, the man who had freed him died at the hand of a Sith Lord. When, ten years later, he saw, helpless, his mother dying in his arms. During the war, when he lost comrades and soldiers. When, every night on unfamiliar planets, he had to hide his feelings for his secret wife, when he couldn't share, even with his closest friend, the despair he felt thinking he might never see her again. He hurt, when the nightmares started, this time showing him the death of his beloved. How many nights, how many days did he mourn those he loved and who have come to pass away? He can't really tell himself.
But none of those losses have prepared him for this burning pain. Even his mother's death, even if he loved her greatly, didn't hurt that much. He hasn't cried, because tears seems unsignificant compared to the agony he's experiencing right now. There are pains that only cry inside.
He can feel the presence of the people behind him, and they are many. He imagines the members of the Jedi Council who have survived the war, with their stoic and expressionless faces. Others knights of the order are here as well, Bant Eerin, Garen Muln and Quinlan Vos… he can't feel their sorrow. Among the people who do not belong to the order, he can picture Bail Organa, Mon Motma and, just on his left, in a silent but strong support, his wife, Padmé.
He looks up at her for a quick second, taking in her appearance. She's wearing a blue night dress, in the traditional nabooian style. Her dark curls fall freely on her back, only a few of them tied in an artistic bump. She raises her eyes toward him, and for an instant, he takes comfort in the love and empathy he can see in her chocolate orbs.
He looks away when he hears Master Yoda in front of him. Anakin realizes he has never seen the small Jedi looking so old. Yoda seems to have taken the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders, and Anakin sympathizes with him. He's soon joined by Mace Windu , the two master standing near the pyre, before Windu speaks.
"We are here today, to pay homage to one of the greatest of us. Throughout his life, has he showed great bravery, strong will and selflessness. His exploits are many, and even if he has never sought greatness and fame as the true Jedi he was, he has become a hero. He will be greatly missed. But do not weep over his departure, for he is now one with the Force, where all those who have come to pass belong. Rejoice for this peace he has finally regained. There is no death, there is the Force, and may the Force embraces him as he embraced it for all those years."
The silence that follows these words is heavy on Anakin's shoulders. Master Windu's words are full of respect and sadness, the Chosen One can feel their truth in the Force. But for him, they are devoid of any warmth and singularity. The one they're mourning today was more than the perfect Jedi they all believed him to be. Of course, he was this perfect Jedi, Anakin always looked up at him for this reason. He always wanted to be like him, even if his faith in the Jedi Code was frustrating at times. He wants to step forward, to tell all those people the great man his former master was. With what deference, bravery and humility he lived. But mostly the side of his personality only those close to him witnessed, his infuriating sense of humor, his talent for sarcasm, his sincerity, integrity in friendship… but it's not his place to do so, then he addresses a silent prayer, for this man he has come to love as a brother may find peace in the Netherworld of the Force.
He knows it's his turn to step towards the pyre but he can resign himself to do it. Taking this step would mean that everything is over, that he will never come back. That's absurd, really. Of the both of them, Anakin has always believed his master would be the one to survive the war. Because Anakin is reckless and doesn't really care about his life as long as he can save this of others. Because he is the one to challenge the Council's orders, the one with the suicidal plans that his master always rescued him from. And because, despite all the arrogant misplaced pride Anakin portrays, his former teacher was the stronger of them. The Chosen One is the most gifted in the Force, but the mastery goes to Obi-Wan.
He's startled out of his thoughts when he feels Padmé's light touch on his arm. He looks at her, and she gives him a sad smile. Anakin understands, he has to go, even it breaks his heart to do so. He closes his eyes for a quick second, breathes deeply and tries to release his grief into the Force. It doesn't work, really, but he knows Obi-Wan would be proud of seeing him at least try.
So he steps forward and takes the torsh that another knight hold out for him. He stares at the flame absentmindedly, picturing what he has to do with it. It will burn the remnants of his master's body. After that, there'll be no turning back. Anakin knows, of course, Obi-Wan's spirit has gone to the Force for several days now. That his body is only that, flesh, bones and blood. Dead. And burning it won't change a thing.
He knows it in his mind. But he's not sure his heart is ready to accept it. It's so final. So hard to think that Obi-Wan will no longer walk at his side, fight at his side. He will never again hear his frustrated protest when Anakin will launch himself into a dangerous mission. He will never again have the companionable warmth of Obi-Wan's voice in the communication system of his starfighter as they head into battle. They will never again share quarters at the Jedi Temple, basking in the calm after a perilous mission, going back on Coruscant to get some strengths back before rushing to war once more.
Anakin braces himself. It's useless to dwel on those things that have gone and will never happen again. He has the right to mourn, obviously, but he can't let grief overwhelm him. He's not alone in his misery, he has a wife and a family now. And the Jedi will need his help to rebuild the Republic. He has responsibilities, he can't allow himself to be engulfed in his own sadness.
So the walls he has eriged around him raise again, keeping pain and despair away. His shoulder straighten, his blue eyes clear up and he steps towards the pyre and let the torsh burn the wood that had been placed here to complete the funeral ritual.
And even he wants to look away, to forget the vision of his best friend's body turning into ashes, he watches. Because it's the least he can do, pay tribute to this man who has taught him everything he knows. Obi-Wan deserves a true Jedi funeral. With the glorious words, the silent prayers of the attendees and Anakin's full attention. The young man turns his thoughts towards his former master and wish him well, to find peace. At last.
Before his teary eyes, Obi-Wan's form disappear behind the fire. Flames embraces his body as would the arms of a passionate lover. The flames are not destructive or hungry; they take away what's left of his friend's bodily form, with warmth and care... almost tender.
And as the smoke of this fire go up to the sky, escaping by the open roof of the gardens, Anakin looks up and pray one last time.
"May you find peace in the Force, my old friend. And thank you for everything you've done. I'll miss you."