Chapter 37. The Circle is Complete

Obi-Wan stood wrapped in his cloak, waiting in the Temple hangar. Little had changed, yet much had, since he had stood here last.

He had returned in ill health, battered and worn, barely able to connect to the Force. He now stood healthy and restored to the Force in full measure.

He had returned feeling unworthy of the Force and the regard of his companions. He now stood centered and equanimity restored.

He had returned with his heart freed yet still bound to his mind and duty, still believing love had to be denied. He now stood, having known love expressed and returned.

The past had come full circle and he now knew who he was, not just what he was, and he had accepted that. He knew what was important to him, and while that included Siri, he was not hers and she was not his.

They had become lovers by accepting their love, but in some ways, little had changed.

They still bickered and teased, yet now they could sit side by side with arms entwined just openly enjoying each other's company. As stimulating as were their nights, the best part was waking up side by side. They had quickly grown comfortable with each other, and in truth, little had changed except their open acknowledgement of their feelings.

They had always been friends, and even now, the foundation of their newfound relationship was friendship. Should they ever find themselves growing attached and thus decide to part, they would part as friends.

They would now both be resuming their normal lives, stealing time together when they could, happy with what they had rather than regretting what they had not. They had accepted that as the price they would have to pay for any time together. So it was with both resignation and relief that Obi-Wan waited in the hangar for his padawan's return.

Anakin might be nearing knighthood, but he wasn't a knight yet. Little remained for him to learn; only the mastery of self that came with maturity and determination. When that time came, the master knew he would have to learn to let go his concern for his padawan.

Who are you kidding, Kenobi? He doubted such was possible for any master who had raised an apprentice from child to adult, from padawan to knight.

He smiled as he saw the approaching ship, his concerns swept aside.

At long last he could release his anxiety and worry into the Force, rather than discarding it only to have it whip back at him.

He admitted it: he had feared for Anakin.

He had feared Anakin's emotions would lead him astray, cause him to lose crucial concentration in any encounter with Asajj Ventress. He had feared for Anakin, because he knew how formidable an opponent she was. Anakin was still a Jedi padawan and no matter how strong he was with the Force, he was no master, let alone knight, yet.

The worry and anxiety were mainly distractions, set aside as required, but he knew now his emotions no longer would remain buried quite so deep within him.

Emotions – joy, love, happiness - had helped him defeat the mask and hold back the darkness that had threatened to snuff out the light; the love, friendship and help so freely given to him by so many who had helped him recover from such a traumatic experience, had, by necessity, lessened his need to hold onto such control of them.

He now knew that emotions were necessary: emotions in tandem with the mind, guiding, but not controlling, something to be acknowledged but not allowed to dominate one's actions. He had learned once more the value of the Living Force aligned with the Unifying Force: they worked best, together, teamed – in balance.

In the Force, this time, a ghost smiled: his padawan had learned how to be whole in the Force while still alive.

Now the real battle for the Chosen One would begin: the Guardian had full access to all the tools he would need. Only time would prove if they were sufficient to counter the opposing darkness that sang to a part of the Chosen One – would light or dark claim the Chosen One's heart, and thus determine destiny?

**

A strong wind whipped Obi-Wan's cloak around him as he waited for the battered starfighter to land and cycle off its engine. Finally the canopy opened and the pilot, looking equally as battered, slowly clambered out.

Slowly – not the enthused and easy jump he was used to seeing, and Obi-Wan felt his heart clench. He hadn't seen his padawan move like that since Geonosis, when the bright spirit had been so tarnished by both physical and spiritual wounds.

What wounds troubled him now?

Whatever they were, Anakin would hide in silence, still unwilling to share his burdens with his master, burdens that Obi-Wan could not shoulder, but would have been willing to lighten. He no longer offered; he had been rebuffed too many times.

Oh, my padawan, why do you not allow your master to help you along your path?

"Master!" The smile came easily, and suddenly the young and enthusiastic padawan was back, as if the sight of his master standing there tall and healthy invigorated him. The crossed arm posture merely made his grin impudent. "Am I in for a lecture before I've even made it into the Temple proper?"

Startled, Obi-Wan realized he looked less than welcoming, huddled in his cloak. He let his grin break through the solemnity of his face and took a step forward to lay a hand on Anakin's arm in greeting.

"No lecture. Upset, no, worried, yes. I thought you looked exhausted a minute ago."

His padawan merely shrugged uncomfortably, looking just a bit ill at ease, perhaps uncertain. "Oh, I just didn't know what to expect. I know you wanted Ventress captured, but Master – she's never going to hurt you again."

The look in his eyes made Obi-Wan wonder if he had ever given Qui-Gon such a look; he hoped so, because it was so openly indicative of affection and concern. He hoped his eyes now reflected feelings of the same back to his padawan. Before he could express his thoughts, in gesture or words, Anakin continued on, ever so earnestly.

"You're safe from her now. I protected you from her, because she was never going to give up. I swear she hated you more than she hated me when I caught up to her."

"The price of my 'safety' would have been too high had you been killed," Obi-Wan said quietly, tightening his grasp on his padawan's arm. "I still think the risk was too high, but you came back in one piece I see. You are a great source of pride to me, my padawan, and my relief knows no bounds at your safe return."

*

The pride and dissipating worry in his master's eyes almost stopped Anakin in his tracks when their eyes met. Obi-Wan spoke so rarely of what he demonstrated with a gesture or look.

He would not be so proud if the truth were spoken.

So many truths had to be hidden; Anakin managed a tiny smile in response. How he wished to unburden himself at times like this – but he couldn't stand to see Obi-Wan turn away from him. He would see only the darkness, not the love that prompted it – and see in it what he would consider his own failing as a master.

Anakin could not bear to tarnish that pure spirit, nor diminish himself in his master's eyes. As long as Obi-Wan respected him, loved him, was proud of him, he could still become the Jedi he was meant to be, the one he was not yet.

He would do anything to protect his loved ones, even compromise his soul, for it was with the purest of motives: love.

The venom in Ventress's voice as she swore she would kill Obi-Wan "next time" had unleashed Anakin's anger as it had with Aidus. He had known then that Obi-Wan would never be safe as long as Ventress was alive. Then, when she revealed her knowledge of Anakin's love for Padme and cheapened it to mere lust, insulted his angel by calling her a "Jedi play toy" and threatened to kill her slowly and painfully only to torment Anakin, he had gone over the edge.

Ventress's fate was sealed with those words: she would die that day.

She had made it easy for him to kill her by attacking him. He had his excuse and he would give no quarter. Ventress would die this day, were she on her knees and begging for mercy.

Guileless blue eyes smiled, trying to break the crinkled frown on his master's face following his own preoccupied half-smile back at his master's praise.

Killing Ventress was not near the transgression that killing the Sand People had been. Then he had killed innocents as well as the guilty, but Ventress was no innocent. She had robbed his master of his vitality and peace, had nearly shorn him of his life. That was not just disposing of an enemy, but of protecting life – his master's life, and even more importantly, his wife's.

Ventress deserved to die for what she did to Obi-Wan, but she deserved to suffer first for what she threatened to do to Padmé.

He had but one regret: he had not made her suffer. She had died cleanly, wrapped in the cable and had plunged stories to her death when he sliced it.

He would have preferred to slice off her hands, one finger at a time, so her hands couldn't grasp the vibroblade she would have used on Padmé's soft and tender flesh, seared her mouth shut after kicking out her teeth so she couldn't spout such ugly epithets ever again, perhaps stabbed his lightsaber through her heart so she might finally know the light that his master wanted her to feel before she died in the only way such as she could.

Her death would have to satisfy him. And Obi-Wan would see it was for the best, and he would come to be satisfied, for he would realize that his secret was safe. No one would ever know.

At least Obi-Wan was safe now. Neither Ventress nor Aidus would ever touch him again; no one would ever know what all had been done to him. Only Obi-Wan knew – and Anakin. The padawan would never speak of his knowledge; officially all he knew was what Obi-Wan chose to share. He had chosen to share much, but not all.

"Master, you won't ever suffer like that again. Ever. You're safe. Do you have any idea how much your life means to me?" Surprising Obi-Wan, he enveloped the Jedi in a hug, making the older man laugh.

"I suppose almost as much as yours means to me," he said, returning the hug and releasing the young man, to stand with his hands bracing his padawan's shoulders, not relinquishing the touch, much to Anakin's surprise. "I was given a great gift some years ago, and don't think I properly appreciated it for a while."

"Me neither." Anakin flashed a grin. "You'll do, I thought. Then one day I realized no one else would do. You weren't the best master and I wasn't the best pupil, but we are the two best Jedi in the Order, you know. Skywalker and Kenobi – what a team."

"Flatterer," Obi-Wan returned dryly, tousling the young man's hair. "Keep that up and you'll still be a padawan at forty. Thirty if you reverse the names properly."

The two stood there, smiling at each other, before Obi-Wan asked with a searching gaze, "You are okay, right? I sense it was a difficult fight the way you're shielding – you're not hiding a wound from me, are you?"

"No. What about you, Master – are you okay now?" Anakin sent his own piercing gaze over Obi-Wan. The sparkle was back in his eye, he had regained the lost weight and his Force presence was no longer dimmed. "Are you sleeping okay?"

He wondered at the slight flush that suffused Obi-Wan's face as he nodded.

"Er, pretty much. I don't think I've woken to a nightmare since you've left. With the help of many hours of meditation and my friends – and you, my padawan – I've managed to come to terms with it all and release it. It's behind me now and best forgotten."

"Can you forget so easily? Master, I swear it'll haunt me forever – when I realized what you were forced to endure…."

"As the pain faded into the Force, so will the memories, Padawan. Let it go." He laid a gentle hand on Anakin's shoulder. "You have trouble letting things go, but this was never your burden. Don't let it be. What was the present becomes the past, and the future becomes today. Today, I am well and what was is now past."

"I can't forget!" Anakin burst out. "You were so hurt; you were tortured because that woman hated you. What kind of reason is that to treat another life like that? She hated you, Master."

Obi-Wan shook his head, and softly said, "She only hated because she knew nothing different and now she will never have a chance to know anything else. I mourn that, but I am thankful you returned safe and uninjured – at least, you appear to be safe and sound. Come, the Council awaits your report since you comm'd in your readiness to present it."

For the first time in a while, the tug of familiarity touched them both, a warm reminder of many years of the two of them striding nearly side by side down the hall, through the Grand Hall and over to the lift.

In the antechamber, Obi-Wan placed a hand on Anakin's shoulder and smiled at him. "Here we go again."

"Before we go in, Master, I wanted to give this to you." Anakin opened his hand and displayed a river rock – a companion to that which Qui-Gon had given, something else for his master to treasure because for some unknowable reason, his master seemed to treasure rocks given as gifts - only this gift came from the padawan, not the master.

Obi-Wan reached out slowly, stunned into silence, but his strong grip on Anakin's shoulder spoke volumes. The bond carried his gratitude and his determination to properly thank his padawan later. Now there was no time; the Council was waiting.

Obi-Wan palmed open the door and stepped in, stopping and bowing before the Council once he reached the center position, with Anakin only a half-second behind.

When Anakin straightened up, Obi-Wan was already half way to his seat. Feeling his padawan's surprise, Obi-Wan sat and favored him with a smile. "It's your report, Padawan, not ours. This was your mission alone."

The bond itself carried a different message: you might as well learn to stand there by yourself; it won't be long before Padawan Skywalker will have earned the right to stand there alone as Knight Skywalker. Anakin fought back a smile and dipped his head to his master in acknowledgement before turning his attention to the Council as a whole.

"Masters, Asajj Ventress is a threat no more. She died at my hands." That at least was no lie. The lie was in not revealing the full details.

Epilogue

"She still has a purpose," Count Dooku decided, standing over a yet breathing Ventress. Her injuries were grave, but she would live, with care; care that Dooku decided to graciously grant her. She might still be of use, time would tell.

An imperious gesture beckoned a droid forward as he stared down at the broken and bruised body at his feet. A broken tool, but sometimes that which was broken became stronger after mending.

"Move her to my ship and see to it that she is given medical treatment. I shall see that she is made into a new and improved ally – one who is capable of killing Obi-Wan Kenobi and his padawan both."

The droids gathered the broken body of Asajj Ventress, preparing to take her for reconstructive surgery and a long stay in a bacta tank.

Someday Obi-Wan Kenobi and Asajj Ventress would meet again.

One would survive. One would not. Or so the galaxy would think – for truth and reality would, as so often, collide.

The truth was far different.