This is a short story, that just popped into my head, literally an hour and a half ago. Its simple. I hope you like it.
Disclaimer: I don't own it.
UPDATE: I rewrote this story because it is one of my favorites, and I thought it deserved some touch-up. Also, the wording and grammar was terrible.
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The Riverstone
I don't think Obi-Wan ever fully understood how much a simple stone meant to me. I know it had been given to him by his master, that the gesture made had meant a lot to him. I think it meant more to me, though, that Obi-Wan felt that he could trust me with such a prized possession of his. In truth, I think he expected me to be disappointed. I could see it in his eyes before he gave it to me, the weariness of my reaction, expecting that I would be angry or something. I bet he had a speech all planned out. I bet he was counting on telling me that I should be more appreciative. I am a bit ashamed to say that I was happy to prove him wrong.
I kept it safe, taking it on missions, to training, to the Temple's cafeteria; I took it everywhere. When I felt no light, when everything felt wrong, and it seemed like my world was turning upside down, when I felt terribly worthless, I would simply hold the riverstone. The warmth of it would bring me great comfort, would give me determination…. would make me feel less alone. It would bring good memories, not only of Obi-Wan, but of Qui-Gon Jinn, the man who freed me, the only person I will ever think as a true father figure. Though I knew him for a short time, Qui-Gon had always been nice to me, never yelling, never lecturing me, not like Obi-Wan does.
Obi-Wan.
I sometimes refer to Obi-Wan as the closest thing I have to a father. In truth, he is, but... He is my master, a mentor, my trainer who is as hard as Mater Yoda is short. In many ways, I don't see him as a father to me at all. I wish I didn't feel that way. I will never let Obi-Wan know this; he'd find some reason to lecture me, I'm sure. But, don't get me wrong, Obi-Wan is great, his sense of humor is sometimes funny, his company is great (most of the time) and I truly am thankful t be his apprentice. I wonder though, if he is glad to be my master.
It was an obligation to take me on. I know he didn't like me when we first met, especially when we went to the Jedi Temple, I could see the tension, the jealousy. They didn't think I saw, or felt it, but I did; to not feel it would be like not feeling the heat of Tatooine's twin suns. In some ways, I know, he blamed me for Qui-Gon's death. I know he felt he had lost his master twice; once to me, and the other to a Sith Lord. I wish Obi-Wan hadn't felt that way, I loved Qui-Gon too. I miss Qui-Gon too.
The riverstone means a lot to us both, and now I fear the reaction of Obi-Wan. I lost it. I lost the riverstone, the one connection between Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan and I. I looked everywhere, all of the Jedi Temple, but I'm afraid I lost it while on our mission to the middle rim. I don't want to tell him, but I have to. He has a right to know.
I go to his room, and tell him. I don't start any small talk, I just say it flat out. I lost the riverstone. At first, he looked disappointed, but the expression was quickly dissipated and told me I should meditate. I have a feeling I am not going to hear anything from him in awhile. When I am angry at Obi-Wan, or sad, or disappointed, I lash out with words, something I should work on. When Obi-Wan is sad , or angry, or disappointed in me, he doesn't speak to me at all, he keeps quiet, and avoids me. Sometimes, I wonder if he is disappointed in me all the time.
I miss the comfort and warmth of the riverstone.
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I hope you liked it, if not, well… Oh well. Reviews are appreciated.