Rating: PG
Category: gen, some angst
Setting: throughout Obi's apprenticeship
Summary: Qui-Gon reflects on his relationship with Obi-Wan.
Spoilers: JA books 1-7, and TPM
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Website: http://www.dreamwater.net/pottedcactus/erjika
Archive: Yes!
Disclaimer: Don't own em, no moolah for moi. Lyrics from "Dante's Prayer" by Loreena McKennitt.
Plot bunny: =:o <-- singing bunny
AN: Big hugs to Crazy Ivan for the beta read! :)
AN2: Slash? Non-slash? Either way, take it in what sense thou wilt.
When the dark wood fell before me
And all the paths were overgrown
When the priests of pride say there is no other way
I tilled the sorrows of stone
It was such a dark time for me. Many have had apprentices who had fallen to the Dark Side, I knew this, but that did not ease the pain. Even years after Xanatos fell, his mocking face still haunted my dreams. I would wake up, night after night, with the image of a broken circle and cold, cruel eyes floating before me. He was able to reach beyond his fury and make sure I would suffer his choices. The wounds he inflicted on himself were no match for the ones he gave me. It had been a long time since I had last gotten an uninterrupted, natural sleep.
By day, I was a maverick diplomat, reckless in determination, but always getting good results. The Council worried about me, but I was consistently handling their most delicate negotiations, and they never went beyond a few pointed questions. I assured them I was alright, and they went no further. Who would question a Jedi dedicated to the Light? Yes, that was what they were afraid of. After Xanatos's fall, I refused to let him paralyze that dedication. I worked tirelessly, almost obsessively, trying to be the best the Jedi had to offer. I refused to let him hold that kind of power over me, despite my increasing exhaustion. My movements were becoming automatic, working like a droid, as I would crawl inside myself, where no one could ever hurt me again.
I did not believe because I could not see
Though you came to me in the night
When the dawn seemed forever lost
You showed me your love in the light of the stars
I can remember the start of our relationship very clearly. Me, a skilled yet aloof diplomat, still unconsciously nursing the wounds of the past. He, a hot-headed but earnest initiate, battling his way into my heart. Force knows what would have happened to me had he not persisted. Facing the Hutts, piloting a dying ship through a fierce battle with pirates, battling draigons with death at every angle, so many times he showed far more courage than I ever could. He refused to give up, refused to let me continue my downward spiral. So many times I rejected him, but he stayed. Thank the Force he stayed.
All that time I pushed him away. All that time I was fighting that internal draigon of my own. His dedication to the Light far surpassed my own superficial servitude. Even after I, in my stupidity, kept not so subtly hinting that he was not good enough to be a Jedi, he was willing to sacrifice himself for the larger good. Down in the mines of Bandomeer. I called him padawan that day. Even with my blindness, a part of me knew who truly won that battle.
Then the mountain rose before me
By the deep well of desire
From the fountain of forgiveness
Beyond the ice and the fire
The day he left the Order was one of the hardest times for me. As he firmly stated he would not be returning, memories came flashing by, memories of my previous failure. But where Xanatos had fought me and laughed at me, my padawan handed me his lightsaber, so solemnly, determined with following what he felt was right. Even as I was comparing them in my minds, comparing their betrayals, he was still far nobler than Xanatos. My padawan. How was he to know how it would end? But his sacrifice, and Cerasi's sacrifice, healed the wounds of that fated planet, as it would eventually heal mine. Damn what the Council said about insubordination. If the need for Knight Tahl to recover hadn't been so urgent, I would have gladly stayed with him.
But he survived. And I was afraid to let him hurt me, as one had already done before. When he came back to the Temple, part of me want to hug him in relief and joy. My padawan had returned, had returned unharmed, had returned untainted by the Dark Side. But part of me hung back, and I watched him face opposition that rivaled my own bitter shell, watching him in silence. An important lesson to learn, but was the punishment worth the price? I could feel the memories of his rejection by me filling his mind with a dull dread. I had to learn to trust again, as he had to face his fears of abandonment again. And still he persisted. That beautiful trait of his reassured me, and finally, I gave in to his Light.
Though we share this humble path, alone
How fragile is the heart
Oh give these clay feet wings to fly
To touch the face of the stars
That spark of persistence blossomed within him, and he threw himself into his apprenticeship, refusing to let me even think he was anything less than the perfect padawan, that he would fall prey to the Dark Side. Yes, he led me to think he was perfect, and I blinded myself once again, never questioning him. I could never question his dedication, but he did not know this. All he knew was that I would look at him sometimes and see another face in his place, a cold face with a scar on the cheek. This was all he knew, and it was my folly to think he would understand my twisted psyche. All this time he was hiding even the slightest of weaknesses, tamping them down ruthlessly.
I finally found out during one of his exercises. He stumbled during a saber practice, and I sensed a wave of agonizing pain emanating from him, before it disappeared smoothly behind strengthening shields. He stood still, breathing hard, fear glazing his eyes. I asked him what had happened, whether I should call the healers or not, but he brushed aside my concerns with a few self-deprecative comments and a strained grin. Memories flooded my mind, of the Council wanting me to take a break, with me refusing due to my complete service to the Light, because I was striving to be the perfect Jedi. I touched his back, and he winced almost imperceptibly. I had to call him on his padawan vows, and he reluctantly let down most of his shields. His fear almost froze my mind, a heavy, wet taint on his otherwise bright psyche. An old wound from the previous week, minor at the time if it had been properly checked, had become infected. If one was not looking for it, one may never have found it. He never told me, never told me he was anything less than that picture of Jedi idealism, a picture that so closely resembled my own hollow quest. After a week in the Healer's Ward, we talked. Long discussions of our fears, our past, our hopes, our goals. We shattered that perfect Jedi, striving instead to be true to ourselves. All was brought out in the open; there would be no pained secrets anymore. Twice broken, our relationship rebounded stronger than ever.
Breathe life into this feeble heart
Lift this mortal veil of fear
Take these crumbled hopes, etched with tears
We'll rise above these earthly cares
Years passed by, with many joys and trials. He learned to relax and release that stoic Jedi image. I learned to trust again. Missions and lessons flew past, sliding along the trail of time, some to be cherished and remembered, other to be forgotten save for the lessons grimly taught. He grew to be more independent, self-assured. Serenity surrounded him, in harmony with that spark of fierce stubbornness not unlike my own. He grew to be himself, not my image of who he should be, nor anybody else's image. True confidence was something he had lacked for so long, and now it filled him like the Force. How he tolerated me all these years, I'll never know. But, as usual, he persisted in his journey to be his own Jedi Knight, and his journey to conquer my own heart. And conquer he did.
Cast your eyes on the ocean
Cast your soul to the sea
When the dark night seems endless
Please remember me
And here I am now, lying on this cold metal floor. Hardly thought this would be my deathbed, but if the Force wills it, I am content. Your teal eyes shimmer with tears, your mind still denying the inevitable. The pain of separation will be great, but I will never truly be gone. You know that, right? Remember the Force. It will always be with you, my padawan.
I've had twelve years with you, twelve bittersweet years, and those years have been the most blessed gift anyone could receive. To watch you grow into a man, no matter how painful the process, has been my fulfillment, so much more than anything else in my life. You pulled me out of the dark, and refused to let me slide back. You are strong. You will be able to move on after this. I know you will.
My breath is ragged, almost gone. The pain is blurring my vision, but never obscuring the brightness of your mind.
One last caress. Never forget that I love you, my Obi-Wan.
My Light.
~finis~