The three Jedi met, by unspoken agreement, at Obi-Wan's favorite spot in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Siri was already there when Anakin arrived, sitting curled up on the bench, idly fingering the vines. She looked up as Anakin approached and said softly, "Some of these were wrapped around a Naboo rose that Senator Amidala laid on his pyre. It was all we had of him."
Her eyes were misted with memories, soft and vulnerable. Anakin almost forgot to bow, surprised. Had grief for her long time friend softened the rough edges she usually showed? This was a side of the knight that Anakin was unfamiliar with.
"Master Obi-Wan is alive," he spoke firmly as he straightened from his bow, not sure how his master's friend would accept this ringing declaration that admitted of no doubt. Instead of pity for a misguided padawan who could not let go of grief, her eyes were sympathetic, looking oddly vulnerable at his words.
Siri simply nodded. "I think so, too. I would know if he wasn't."
Once again, Anakin was reminded that Obi-Wan had leant forward and dropped a soft kiss on Siri's forehead in response to her request that he be careful, be guarded by his padawan. Impulsively, he spoke as he normally would not.
"You're closer friends than I ever realized."
"Because we give each other a hard time? We were very close at one time," Siri admitted. "Stuff - happened, so we drew apart, but we found our way back to true friendship." She drew her knees up to her chest and smiled at Anakin. "Like the two of you, Obi-Wan and I sometimes had a turbulent history, but we always cared for each other. I don't suppose he ever told you much about those days."
"He never spoke about his past unless I pried it from him." He wondered if his resentment of that fact bled into his voice. Had he known that his master had faced some of the same fears and pressures as a padawan, yet had moved beyond them, he might have known that his master's suggestions and advice had some basis in fact and were not meant to subdue, but reassure his own padawan - "I sometimes think if he had, well, I'd have understood him better. It might have made things easier."
"Qui-Gon drilled him into letting go, to 'live in the present.' There were things he was ashamed of in his past, things he preferred to let go. You made it easy for him – you never asked, did you? He would have been honest with you."
It was true, he had to admit. He had never really been interested, not enough to ask, except sometimes for stories about Qui-Gon. His master would always hesitate and then reply with some story that usually had much to do with Qui-Gon and little with himself.
Anakin had been satisfied with those stories, for he had worshipped the Jedi master and grieved deeply for him when he had first come, lonely and homesick to the Temple. As he grew into adolescence, he had mainly thought of his master as a strict taskmaster, keeping him bound to study and duty and not one to share confidences with.
Shame? He slipped out of his musing to remember what Siri had said, and it piqued his interest.
"Ashamed? What would my master ever do that would cause shame? I thought he was always the perfect Jedi." His tone held a hint of bitterness, a touch of pride.
"Your master?" Siri's laugh was genuine. "Obi-Wan tried hard to be, but he couldn't. He worries about everything, you know that. Maybe not shame, but he did some things that ended up causing him pain at the time, things that hurt him as well as others. Things that he thought were right at the time, done for the right reasons, which turned out otherwise.
"He hates to think he has let someone down, disappointed them - you know that. How long did he feel guilty for not being at Qui-Gon's side when he took that fatal wound? He blamed himself for Qui-Gon's death – all because he thought he should have been faster, or avoided the kick that separated them."
"He did?" Anakin asked in surprise. He flushed at Siri's shake of the head and had the grace to mumble, "I was just a kid at the time; I wasn't paying a lot of attention to him."
"You were homesick and terribly sad at Qui-Gon's death, so that's perfectly understandable. Don't worry about it. On top of his own guilt, Obi-Wan was afraid you would never forgive him – he thought you, too, blamed him for not being quick enough to save Qui-Gon."
"He knew?" Anakin dropped onto the bench and put his head in his hands, flushing with guilt. "I did, too, for a time. I didn't think he knew, and I stopped thinking that after a while but – he knew? He took me as his padawan anyway?"
"Yeah, he did. You weren't thinking anything he wasn't already. He carried a lot of guilt about Qui-Gon, and about you losing Qui-Gon and being stuck with him for a long while. He tried hard to make it up to you, though he was convinced he could never be the master to you that Qui-Gon would have been," Siri soothed.
"We only knew because we knew Obi-Wan, not because he talked to us about it or anything. As it was, we practically had to drag the story out of him; he was pretty reticent about everything, though we knew he was really hurting deep inside. Did you know he cut off his own braid?"
Anakin only shook his head, immune to more surprises. "No ceremony – that's really terrible, didn't his knighting mean much to him?"
"Anakin, I hope you're never in a position to understand how Obi-Wan felt at that time!" Siri's tone softened as she continued with her explanation.
"He was shaken and exhausted from the fight, and he didn't feel like celebrating – not with Qui-Gon barely dead. He just wanted to get on with his life, as he thought his master would have wanted him to do, never knowing how much Qui-Gon looked forward to standing beside him knight to knight, comrades – he was just bursting with pride that for some reason he didn't want to display until then. I heard this from Adi some time later."
Anakin was still trying to absorb this new knowledge. Obi-Wan had declined, actually declined, a ceremony – one he was entitled to, one to mark an achievement worked long years for, a public acknowledgement of his accomplishment from his peers. Could the events on Naboo really have overshadowed that success?
Siri must have guessed the thoughts crossing his unguarded face; she looked at him for a moment, then said softly, "He would far rather have been a padawan with a master, then a knight minus his master. Is it any different for you, Anakin?"
Anakin nodded mutely as her words soaked in. He would give anything he had to have his master back at his side. He understood now, more than he wished he did. Even so…
But – he just – cut it? No ceremony at all, not even a quiet one?" For some reason, this really bothered Anakin. He anticipated his own ceremony with delight. He wanted everyone to be there – even those he knew couldn't, such as Padme and his friend the Chancellor. He wanted all his friends and colleagues to acknowledge him, his triumph at finally achieving his life's dream.
"Oh, he got one of sorts. We're not his friends for nothing; we conspired against him. He was the first of us to be knighted; none of us knew what really took place at the ceremony, so we made it up as we went. Obi-Wan resisted it until Bant turned the tears on. Obi-Wan can't stand to see Bant crying. We pinned Obi's braid back on him and Garen pretended to cut it off as Bant yanked the braid from the pins. Pulled out a patch of hair and scalp with it, too," a reminiscent smile touched her lips.
"Force, did Obi-Wan ever yelp! Bant was really crying then, so there he was with one hand rubbing his head and the other around Bant, trying to comfort her. I, of course, was laughing my head off as Garen stood there with his mouth open and Reeft went around offering appetizers to everyone. I'm surprised he never told you this story."
"I remember that night, or the morning after," Anakin said slowly. "About a week after we came back from Naboo, right? I kind of heard all you talking, but I was pretty much asleep. I woke up later feeling this – I don't know, wave of sorrow and grief from Obi-Wan – it seemed he was in some kind of pain, so I went into his room to see if he was okay. I thought maybe he was crying, because I didn't know then that he never cried. He said he was fine because I was there with him, and he picked me up and carried me back to bed, even stayed for a while until he thought I was asleep."
His voice was a bit husky with the memory: his arms around Obi-Wan's neck and the comfort of those arms around him. He had felt protected and wanted, remembered looking up at the gentle blue-gray eyes that smiled down at him when hands smoothed the covers over him: the same hands that wielded the lightsaber that had taken a life only days before was tucking in a small boy.
The almost-son who became the almost-father with one sword thrust then sat at the boy's side, and watched as his young apprentice snuggled into his pillow. Even now, Anakin wasn't sure that he had heard a whispered "thank you, Qui-Gon," before laying a land on the boy's back before leaving the room.
"You know, I think that was the first time I wasn't thinking of what I didn't have, but what I did have; I was just happy that he was happy I was with him. Maybe – maybe that's what he was thinking, too."
Siri patted his hand, barely noticing the shy smile he gave her.
Anakin's words surprised her; she had never thought what effect that get-together might have had on the new and still grieving knight. She had known that Obi-Wan had been holding in all his emotion during that incredibly exhausting week, and now realized that reality must have crashed in on him later that night. Their little celebration had probably hammered home that he would never have a real one, with his master at his side, as he must have dreamed of for long years. Perhaps that had been a cruel thing to do to him, at least at that time.
"Maybe we shouldn't have foisted that fake ceremony on him. It would make it hard… Bant must have realized - she said she would stay and sleep on the couch in case Obi-Wan needed a shoulder later on. Stupid me – he wasn't ready for that, not then."
That had been why she had been drawn to his side in those first nights…he was still struggling to make sense of his life and his grief. He was fine in the days, busy and controlled, but at night, as he slipped into sleep, the phantoms were stronger than his control. It was this that led him to seek solace in the peace of the gardens.
Anakin glanced at her from under long lashes and delved into his memories. "I think he was hurt in a good kind of way, you know – happy and sad at the same time. He probably felt terribly lonely and terribly lucky to have such good friends. I remember – after he shut the door I heard him talking quietly to someone. I never actually heard him go back to bed. Sure, he was out there talking to Bant."
"I heard my name…I'm here," she said, as Siri sat up properly and made room and Anakin stood. Bant hugged Anakin as he hugged her back; her head only came to mid-chest on him.
"Anakin, I'm so happy to see you – you look like you need a good, long rest."
"We were talking about that night we gave Obi his private knighting ceremony," Siri explained as Bant took the now open seat beside her. "You did stay that night, right?"
Bant's expression softened visibly; her thoughts clearly visible to Siri. Poor Obi. Clearly, she had been the only friend waiting for the inevitable. She had known as soon as it was mentioned how that mock ceremony would go, and probably participated only because she knew better than the rest of them how Obi-Wan had been hiding his emotions rather than releasing them, and figured he would be startled into confronting them afterwards.
"I did. I thought that Jedi veneer of his might crack. We all know how well he shields, so just when I was wondering if I should go check on him, I heard Anakin here," only Bant would tousle Anakin's hair and receive a grin in response, "go into Obi's room and then saw Obi carry him back to bed. Anakin had his head against Obi-Wan's shoulder, and Obi had that really soft smile on his face – you know the one, the one we wondered if he had forever lost on Naboo.
Siri nodded; she knew it well, a gentle and happy smile that came from the heart. The two women smiled at each other, remembering, and then Bant looked at Anakin with a very similar smile.
"You two looked like you belonged together, and I knew then that Obi knew it whether you did or not, Anakin. He had this kind of peace and acceptance about him that had been missing. I knew then he'd be fine, but we sat and talked for a while."
It wasn't her place to talk about Obi-Wan's no-longer suppressed tears that night as he cried into her shoulder, or the happiness he confessed that he was starting to find as a master to a padawan of his own. That had been the night that he had let go and accepted that his life had been forever altered and that he was strong enough to move forward. He had let go of the past.
"You've always been there for him, haven't you? For me, too." He hadn't been there for her when the Jedi said goodbye to Obi-Wan, he felt compelled to explain why now that he was facing her, though he had already talked to her once. "I couldn't be here, Bant, you know I would have come if my master had truly died. I'm sorry if I hurt you by my absence, but I just couldn't face being here."
Impulsively, Bant hugged Anakin again. "I know. It's okay, Anakin, it's okay. None of us doubt your devotion to your master." Anakin's eyes showed his gratitude at the understanding Bant showed him.
"I've lost so much already, Bant." His mind skittered away from thoughts of his mother; raw as that was and always would be, he had left his friends and colleagues on Jabiim, left them to their deaths and that wound was just as raw and far more recent. They had suffered together and he had really connected with his fellow padawans, only to lose them – he, the boy that had never quite seemed to fit in, was never quite accepted – was one of them.
He just hadn't died with them.
"I just can't bear the thought of losing him, of anyone else I care for. I'm so afraid I will lose him if I am not allowed to save him. I know he's alive, Bant, it's not just wishful thinking, truly it is not."
The next thing Anakin knew, two moist and slightly salty arms quickly hugged him, and just as quickly let go. No Jedi truly "mothered" another, but Bant had come close in those first days at the Temple when he had needed unconditional acceptance in a world he didn't understand and hadn't yet found his place in.
Obi-Wan had not been able to offer that: he was facing his own transitions, conscious and self-aware of his new responsibilities, and trying to balance the expectations he felt were now placed on him versus his own uncertainty at a new role thrust so suddenly and unexpectedly upon him without preparation.
He had tried, almost too hard, Anakin remembered, remembering the strained lines in his face and the barely visible smiles in those first days. That first tentative week had evaporated into the past that night, when Obi-Wan had carried him back to bed and stayed until Anakin had feigned sleep. They had found each other; the new strength of their bond apparent that very next morning as they left the past behind and faced the future together as a team.
"I know Siri believes the same as you do, and the two of you have made me doubt his death. Against all reason, you two make me believe it's possible he's alive – and somehow, that scares me. It's almost worst than Geonosis – at least then we knew he was alive. Now – all we can do is wonder and wait."
Anakin raised his eyes to Bant's, and nodded mutely. His master's friends, his friends, too, hurt just as much as Obi-Wan's padawan did. And they all did – nothing – for nothing could be done.
Except wait.
Wait. Doing nothing, sitting, while Obi-Wan was suffering. Waiting to rescue him, while Obi-Wan was waiting for rescue. His master in unbearable pain and his friends, his padawan, not coming to save him. Anakin bit back a moan of anguish at the thought. He could see that Bant and Siri shared his helplessness.
"I sense little and know nothing…but I just feel that we have enough of a connection that I would feel his death." Siri 's voice was soft. "If we just had the slightest clue to what might have happened… anything? Can you feel nothing through your bond, Anakin?"
"Nothing. I am so worried for him. I know he's alive; he has to be, but if he is – he's suffering and I can't do anything to stop it." In his frustration, his hand closed around a section of vine and squeezed. Crushed petals and leaves drifted down.
"Don't," Siri put a hand on his, stopping Anakin from a second squeeze, her eyes following the fallen flowers. "By holding on so tightly you hurt it. Don't destroy it – it holds the secret of the universe."
Anakin shook his head in confusion. Secrets?
"Not only that; you're holding Obi-Wan in your hand. One with the Force or not yet, we're all part of the Force, and the Force is everywhere, including those flowers."
Flowers? For the first time, Anakin saw the flowers hidden within the leaves. Have they been there all the time? He looked down; one flower lay within his now open palm, one petal half torn off. As tenderly as if he were truly holding a partially crushed Obi-Wan in his hand, he let go – and the flower didn't crumble or fall. It was still attached to its stem, the stem to the vine. A little worse for wear, it would survive.
"It lives," Anakin whispered. He lives!