Ceremony

Obi-Wan ran his fingers down the long braid that laid neatly against his shoulder. It had gotten long over time. He had been a Padawan for nearly ten years, he should have been ready to face the Trials soon. There would be no Trials, there didn't need to be anymore.

"I don't want to cut it off," he said.

"I know." Qui-Gon's presence was gentle and calming, as was the hand rubbing his apprentice's back. "But it is necessary. It's time, Obi-Wan."

A year ago, he would have been proud to hear his Master say that, to be promoted to a Jedi Knight and served the Order next to his mentor. He knew he shouldn't be so emotionally attached to a symbol, but under the circumstances… Obi-Wan turned his head away. "Can't I just keep it? I could hide it, no one would see it. I'm not ready, Master."

Qui-Gon didn't point out the change in attitude, how Obi-Wan would have insisted he was ready and eager to go to the next stage of his life. This was different now, the universe had changed in a way they were entirely unprepared for and despite their training to give feelings of loss and despair to the Force, they were both hurting. One didn't survive genocide with a calm demeanor.

"You cannot keep your braid, Obi-Wan, it must come off," Qui-Gon said. "You are a Jedi Knight now. You've faced harder Trials than any Jedi has seen in his or her lifetime and survived them, that is to show how strong you really are."

But he didn't feel strong. The words made his eyes burn and he wiped at his face quickly, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. "Do it," he whispered. Before it hurt any more. Once it was gone, it would be over.

Qui-Gon's touch was soft, he didn't tug at the hair, and in a swift cut, the braid came off in his hand. He would keep it; a sign of the one he had trained to knighthood and a memory of the boy who was as close to a son as he would ever have in this life. That was the way it should be and if they were going through the ceremony, then Qui-Gon still would have cut off it off himself. He would have told Obi-Wan how proud he was of him, that he was to become a great Jedi, and then Obi-Wan would be presented for the first time as a Jedi Knight.

There were no Jedi to present him to, no one left to see him rise to his new rank. That was what ached so much. Garen, Bant and Ferynt, they would have all been waiting for him. Ferynt would have made Knight first, of course, they all knew that because he was just that determined, but they would be waiting to congratulate him and welcome him to a new stage of life. They were gone too.

"Come here, stand up." Qui-Gon stood looking down at him, even as Obi-Wan got to his feet, chin downward and the gentle weight of his braid missing against his shoulder. His master tipped the boy's chin up, meeting his eyes. "I am so very proud of you, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Never forget that. I am proud of you."

The tears welled up again and he latched on, clinging to the back of his master's cloak. He wasn't worthy, he didn't pass the trials. He wasn't ready to face the universe on his own. His friends weren't there by his side to help, nor were the other masters he looked up to and now Qui-Gon was saying that he would no longer lead the boy, but that they would walk side-by-side. It was just that.. he didn't know the path.

Qui-Gon didn't admonish him for his grief, for which he was grateful, and the large hand rubbing his back providing some comfort. "Now is the time to be brave, little one," he said quietly. "This is beyond my experience to teach you as well. We have to walk this road together."

"Yes, Master," he said, muffled into his cloak. Obi-Wan pulled back, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand and gave a weak smile. "Only as long as you know the way because I don't."

"I do know where to start," Qui-Gon replied, brushing his thumb across his Padawan's—his Knight's—cheek, wiping away the last of the tears. "Come. It is time."

They walked out of the living quarters of the ship together, down the hallway to the cargo hold and the ramp resting on the damp ground of the forest world. The air was moist here, quiet and gentle as if the planet's sun smiled at them instead of glared. Obi-Wan stood at the edge of the ramp, looking down at the ground even as Qui-Gon's hand came to rest on his shoulder.

He looked up finally as Qui-Gon held the braid out in his hand, uncurling his fingers to show it as proof, and there was the sharp, clamping sound of the clones coming to attention. "Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi," he said loudly, offering it up to the universe.

Obi-Wan looked back at Cody who stood in front of his troops, bringing his hand up in a smart salute. "We're proud to have you, Knight Kenobi," he replied. Then he glanced back at the men gathered in ranks behind him. "Welcome your new commander, boys."

They were respectful in their cheer, but it was much more than a salute. It was the cheering of the Jedi gone, of their brothers, of their future and the courage to their new leader to take his first steps. It wouldn't have been like this at the Temple, but Obi-Wan began to have the faintest feeling that they could do this. They could continue to survive. And if they could survive, then they could fight.