Obi-wan could hear whispers follow him as he moved through the temple. Too long glances, sideways gazes, and always an air of quiet conversations moved around him. He had been back only a week or so from Naboo, attending the parade that had secured peace for both the Naboo and the Gungans, and already he felt estranged. He and Anakin were preparing for their trip to Ilum to get the boys lightsaber, and for Obi-wan to construct his new one, and in their days prior, the pair had bene separated.
The Jedi Council had called for several meetings with Obi-wan, attempting to deter him from going to Ilum so quickly, trying to hold off on Anakin's getting a real lightsaber until he was better suited to life in the temple. Obi-wan had realized that on their first day here, the voices that were seeming to follow him were ten times as worse for Anakin. The child was separate from his new Master, spending long hours in the archive rooms of the temple to learn all he needed to know before their journey.
Anakin knew the other Padawan, and younglings waiting to become Padawans were talking about him. He had gone down to the library to find Anakin for lunch only yesterday, and had seen a group of them talking, looking over at him as he looked through thousands of Holofiles to find was he needed. They had stopped when Obi-wan came in, pretending to be engrossed in their studies, but as he moved where they though he was out of earshot, he heard the murmur resume.
"Sith-Killer" was a common phrase he heard whispered, "Why did Skywalker get him? Someone else should have gotten someone that powerful." Each time he felt a twinge of discomfort. His duel with Darth Maul had spread through the temple rapidly, and Jedi Masters that he had never known to even glance at him eyed him with a sort of auspicious appraisal. Younglings, when he would pass through their training rooms, would grow quiet with aw. One time, a small girl had asked him the story, but he had refused, citing an imaginary appointment as the reason.
He walked down the corridors now, searching for his apprentice. Easy enough to find with his force signature, powerful and unrestrained by any form of training. He was not in the archives today, Obi-wan could feel a pull towards the flight area. Yesterday, after Anakin had come to dinner and collapsed, exhausted in front of him, he had not known what to say.
Obi-wan was many things, an expert on children was not one of them. Especially when that child happened to be the chosen one, one not raised in the temple, one with strong ties to his mother in the outer rim, and one who, like himself, was still reeling from Qui-Gon's death. Finally, after watching Anakin poke at his fruit for almost ten minutes, he had offered to let him pick out the ship they would fly.
"You mean it?" Anakin said, his short Padawan braid flying around his shoulder excitedly. "I mean…" His face had scrunched up looking for the right words. "I would like that, Master Obi-wan." Obi-wan had tried not to laugh, being able to contain it to a small smile instead.
"Of course." You can go down to the flight deck tomorrow and put in the order." Anakin had spent the rest of dinner in a buzzing state of excitement, speaking rapidly, and only remembering to throw in his formalities long after his thoughts had been finished. But Obi-wan had let him, glad that for the first time since Qui-Gon's death, that his apprentice had something to be happy about.
And Obi-wan saw him now, much to the chagrin of the elderly maintenance worker, fiddling with the underbelly of a ship. Obi-wan glanced at it, knowing the ship fit the entire list of qualifications he had given Anakin the night before. What the boy was doing to it, however, remained to be seen.
"Master!" He heard Anakin shout, and a pair of blue eyes, split by a thick black grease mark, appeared form under the ship. "This one is perfect."
"What are you doing to it?" Obi-wan ran a hand through his beard, he hadn't shaved since the funeral, and had decided he quite liked the look o fit on his face. He looked less like a Padawan, and more like a knight that way, especially with his hair still so short.
"Grallo said there was a problem with the hyper-drive leaking, so I'm taking a look at it." He said, his voice muffled by what sounded like a large crash coming from it.
"I tried to stop him, Master Jedi." Grallo spoke, his tongue flitting nervously out along his lips. His amphibious features held a look of serious concern, and Obi-wan didn't blame him. Anakin was a nine-year old boy, not the typical repair crew for hyper drives. "This ship has been out of commission for months, I offered him a different cruiser."
Obi-wan resisted the urge to sigh, instead choosing to wait as he heard more rattling and something black leak out from underneath the ship. "Master Obi-wan?" Anakin's head peaked out again, "Would you mind doing me a favor?" Obi-wan waited, "Would you check and see what the ship says. It looks all fixed from here."
"That won't be necessary, we have plenty of fine ships." Grallo was protesting as Anakin climbed out from under the ship, his light beige tunic smeared filthy black with what Obi-wan hoped was grease and not some sort of radioactive fluid. But Anakin's face was pleading, and so Obi-wan stepped onto the boarding ramp to check the monitors.
He could hear Anakin arguing with the maintenance man, telling him that there was no reason they shouldn't use this perfectly good ship, and as Obi-Wan powered up the hyper drive reader, he realized he was right. All signs indicated that the repairs had worked, and they were now working perfectly.
He stepped back down the ramp to the arguing pair. "Good job, Anakin." Grallo looked ready to quit, swiping the wrench Anakin had used back from him and shuffling away, his tongue still flicking nervously. "Thanks!" Anakin wiped his hands on his tunic, adding an extra set of dark brown handprint stains to the already destroyed fabric. "Master Obi-wan." He added as a dutiful afterthought. "IT wasn't broken really, just a few things were loose is all."
Obi-wan looked down at them, feeling the living force surrounding Anakin, and stroked his beard again in what was now becoming a habit. "Why don't we go get you some new clothes?" He said, and Anakin nodded his head, "You can tell me about our ship, I suppose. Our trip has been moved up by two days, so we'll only be here tomorrow and then we'll be on Ilum."
Obi-wan felt the spike of happiness in Anakin's force signature, as he walked behind apprentice, shortening his strides to let Anakin lead them down the hall to the place where the robes were available to be picked up. He saw other Master and Padawan pairs walk by them, looking at him with intrigue, taking in the grimy appearance of Anakin and curling their lips slightly. He chose to ignore them, putting a hand on Anakin's shoulder as he continued to jabber about the finer points of their cruiser, blissfully oblivious (or at least his master hoped).
Obi-wan had realized something, only days back into their journey: if he and Anakin were going to do this, make it through this as stronger men and stronger Jedi: they were going to have to do it alone.
