The Jedi Change
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars.
Chapter Thirty-Seven- Delight. Despair. Disclosure.
The excitement within Temple was subdued, comparatively speaking, to the last time Anakin had vanquished a Sith. There was the task of securing the bodies of Ventress and the rogue, but the tension of the day had eased. The Skywalker children had calmed once their parents had returned. Master Windu had seen them settled in with their mother in Med Center. The senator was exhausted and had been given a sedative to make her rest.
Mace was still flabbergasted by the turn of events. He had arrived at the bunker, trusted Clone Troopers in tow, to find the rogue Sith already quite deceased and the Skywalkers embracing each other. Skywalker was surprised that it was Master Windu to retrieve him. That much had been obvious in his expression.
Mace had practically flown down the steep stairwell, his lightsaber on the ready to defend. He had not known what to expect to find, but he would be prepared for anything. He owed it to Anakin. The battle had just finished, for the horrible stench of burned flesh had not had time to fade. Skywalker had looked worse for the wear, and his wife appeared no better.
Mace suspected that her tears had not been those of remorse. He had known Senator Amidala-Skywalker for a long time. She was more than sufficient skill with a weapon. Now she could add to her physical arsenal the use of a lightsaber. He also knew of her capabilities in the defense of the people of Naboo, those she cared for. He could extend that knowledge to explain what she would perform in the defense of her Jedi husband.
Perhaps the worst mistake the Sith had made was underestimating Skywalker's wife.
It was after their return that the Jedi realized all communications based from or operating through Temple had been obliterated. It was why their COMM links had not been functioning properly. Once the Sith had been defeated, systems had returned to normal.
Master Yoda and Mistress Tachi had arrived just after he had and were waiting for them when they had gotten out of the bunker. Siri had helped Padmé onto the cruiser, her nod to Anakin mysterious. Skywalker was quiet during their trip to Temple with the exception of his hoarse whisper of gratitude and the affirmation that he was not seriously hurt. Mace would not press him.
But there was something happening between Skywalker and Master Yoda. He could sense the electric animosity from the young man and couldn't fathom the cause. It wouldn't be up to Mace to discover and that suited him fine. For now.
He made his steps down the concourse slow so Yoda's hovercraft could keep up with him.
"I have heard from Chancellor Organa."
"And?"
"He would like to keep the events of the bunker between himself and the Jedi," Mace told him.
"Just as well, it is. Act against him, we have."
"He didn't sound particularly upset. In fact…he may have been in on their plans."
"Then why take my card for passage, did they?"
Mace shrugged. "Well, they were already here. They had simpler access to you."
Yoda reluctantly agreed and let the matter pass. He had more pressing concerns. "Understand, I do not, how the Sith's presence not felt."
"Yes, his talent for cloaking himself would have been useful to possess."
"Not only the cloaking," Yoda muttered with regret. "Sense his conception, his rearing, escape us it did."
"Master, I believe we would have known had it been here on Coruscant," Mace told him. "Would he have been born within the Republic his presence would have been known, and Sidious' plan would have never been given the opportunity to come to order."
Yoda was quiet for a moment, his thoughts unclear. "Refuse to speak to me Skywalker did outside of the bunker. To you, what has he said?"
"He merely mentioned his gratitude. Nothing else. Is there something to worry you about Master Skywalker?"
Yoda kept his stare ahead of them. "Between Anakin and me it must remain."
Mace nodded and kept walking.
♥
Obi-Wan sat quietly back against his pillow as Siri finished swabbing the gash on his thigh with disinfectant. They were alone in sickbay, but a ceiling-to-floor drape had been pulled around to afford them more privacy.
He never thought he would enjoy someone hovering over him. Whenever he had suffered cuts or scrapes in his travels, he usually cared for himself. Any wound requiring greater attention was usually left through no other choice to treatment from Anakin. Naturally, his apprentice's nursing made Obi-Wan strictly adherent to rules of utter self-preservation.
But this? Watching his love concentrate on him so intensely? Feeling her touching him with both tenderness and adroit competence? It made him wish he had more wounds for her to fuss over. She didn't see the way he stared at her, his subtle smile, so intent she was on what she was doing. He felt compelled to mention, "After what's happened today, it really is all over."
She used her teeth to rip open the parchment of gauze. She merely grunted her response and bent to continue her work of bandaging his wound.
Obi-Wan's gaze turned soft with sympathy. He knew why she was so frazzled and quiet. Siri could not comprehend why Ventress had done what she had. When he had told her of it just a few minutes ago, Siri had left him without a word. She came back having verified for herself that Asajj was truly dead this time and not running a scam from a Sith-trance.
Siri taped the pad of gauze carefully. "The method of her passing should be of no consequence to me."
Obi-Wan said nothing. He just lightly touched her cheek. There were tears in her eyes he knew she fought against.
She sighed and shook her head with irritation. "I do not like feeling that I am indebted to her."
She finished her task and finally met his gaze. "She chose to live as she did. She alone. I will not be made to feel as if I owe her any kind of sympathy, and I certainly will not mourn her."
Obi-Wan opened his arms, and she fell easily into his embrace. He pressed her to him, careful of the sling, and stroked her hair as she cried.
It was expected, he reasoned, that Siri would feel something in Ventress' death. They had been the symbol of many things to each other and against each other. It was a strange kinship, but Obi-Wan knew exactly what Ventress had represented to Siri and why.
He pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Do you want to know what I think?"
"That I'm crazy?" she sniffled, and he smiled.
"No." He tilted her face up to look into her eyes. "I think she represented failure to you. I think you looked at her as a moral compass. Ventress was everything you were not because of the choices you had made in your own life. She was something visceral to guard yourself against."
After everything that had happened and all the things Ventress had destroyed, Siri could still feel compassion. It hurt her. "I wanted so much to help her, Obi-Wan. She was evil. I knew it, but I still wanted to…"
"It's in your nature to try to help someone in pain. You're a Jedi. It's what we do."
Siri scooped up on the bed and settled beside him, her face against his neck. He wrapped both arms around her then and closed his eyes. Merriment was definitely in the simplicity of holding her.
"I couldn't even hate her," she whined without heat.
"You're not supposed to hate."
"I wanted to do that too, though." She burrowed closer. "She held you prisoner on Rattatak."
Obi-Wan frowned a little. He had put the memory of that time behind him, but there was a new faculty to it he wanted to explain. "There was a moment shortly before she died, where I think I sensed her remembering that as well. She had me, Siri. I escaped, but now I can't help but wonder if perhaps she had let me go."
Siri scoffed, "Not bloody likely."
She kissed his chin. "You were smarter. You think with a clear head. It's what drives me insane about you."
He would humbly agree if it kept her kissing him. "That could be true, but for argument's sake…"
"Do we have to argue?"
"Not us specifically, darling, but let's just say Ventress did allow me to leave without further adieu. Why do you think that was?"
"Why does Master Windu carry a lightsaber with a decidedly-feminine blade?" she dismissed with humor. "Who knows?"
Obi-Wan spoke into her ear. "Careful, love. These walls carry sound beyond them."
Siri closed her eyes and sighed. "I'm not the only one who thinks so."
"Nevertheless, we should return to the subject at hand. I think all of your dealings with her may have had a direct impact on her demise."
"What do you mean?"
"Siri." He cradled her face in his palms and said, "I think she did it for us."
She shook her head. "That isn't impossible. Asajj knew nothing about us. Not really. She was incapable of feeling anything other than scorn and ridicule, particularly when it came to my love for you. She said it herself. She actively disdained it."
"She thought of you in her last seconds, Siri. I could feel it. Looking at you now, I can almost swear by it."
"We'll never know her motive, Obi-Wan, and maybe we shouldn't try. It could drive us mad trying to figure her out for certain."
She smiled. "I would so much rather think on the present and maybe a little—just a little—on the future."
"Oh?" His kiss was sweet. "What is there to think about?"
It was unkind to make her voice it when he knew exactly to what she referred. "You know."
"I'm afraid I do not."
Siri blushed and looked away. "That thing we touched on before they sent you with…her."
"My memory is faulty," he lied with mischief. He felt her squirm with discomfiture and grinned. "Refresh it, please."
"You're a cad for teasing me, Kenobi."
"Ah, the whole business of marrying you…that is it, yes?"
"Yes." Siri leaned back and eyed him speculatively. "If you would like to wait longer, I understand…"
Obi-Wan glared with admonishment. "Twenty-years is an excruciatingly long engagement. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Yes, but…"
"Considering we no longer hold the fate of anyone's life or universe in our hands, we should be able to make quite a quick work of it, my beautifully blonde love. Leave it to me."
Happily, but… "There is still the matter of the Council, baby. I…well…today…"
"Was typical of you from what they understand."
"I am what I am, that's true. But…"
"No." He kissed her once more. "No buts. I love you. You love me. We're going to be happy, and the Council will get used to the idea. Leave it to me."
"The idea, yes," she chided his arrogance. "The reality of it will be a whole new experience."
"Only in your mind. Now say it. Say you'll marry me."
Siri blushed again, deeper this time. "I've already said yes."
"I told you that my memory is faulty." He brushed his lips over hers. "Now say it again as this may very well be the last time we agree on anything. Say, 'Yes. I will gladly marry you, Obi-Wan'."
She smiled against his lips, more in love with him than ever before. "Yes, I will gladly marry you, Obi-Wan."
"Say, 'I will lay down next to you every night and wake within your arms every morning. And we'll bear a litter of gifted, obstinate and almost unfairly attractive children together '."
She chuckled and repeated, "I will lay down next to you every night and wake within your arms every morning. And we'll bear a litter of gifted, obstinate and almost unfairly attractive children together."
Enjoying this, Obi-Wan prompted, "'And I will mend your tunics and brew your tea…'"
No fool, she glared at his beaming face. "In your dreams, Kenobi."
"I thought as much," he said with mock disappointment. "Kiss me again."
"You don't deserve another kiss."
Feigning shock, Obi-Wan pleaded, "But I've been injured!"
He ruined it with another helpless grin. "Kiss me and make it better."
Siri rolled her eyes but moved in anyway. "I kiss you because I like it."
"Then have away, Tachi."
The kiss was just becoming really good when the curtain was thrust opened, and they guiltily broke apart.
They turned their heads to find Bant standing there looking nonplussed.
Siri smiled. Obi-Wan scowled, and their oldest friend said with fake severity, "Be mindful of where you are, children."
"We are to be married," Obi-Wan told her simply.
"Mayhap, but until the deed is done…" Bant helped Siri from the bed. "Save the consummation for the wedding night. Please."
It was Kenobi's turn to blush, and the women in his life laughed.
Siri took pity on her lover and changed the subject. "Bant, how is Padmé?"
"Resting upstairs." Bant sobered and looked at her knowingly. "Unfortunately, I cannot say the same for Anakin."
Instantly alert, Obi-Wan raised himself. "Where is he?"
"In your chambers. He wanted to clean himself up before seeing the twins."
Bant turned to Siri. "He knows the truth, Siri. I sense it."
Siri's gaze snapped to Obi-Wan watching them quizzically. "My love…Remember what I told you that night in Commenor? About Anakin?"
Obi-Wan sighed. He nodded, "It is true then. You can sense it for certain?"
"Yoda told me this afternoon." Siri asked Bant, "Who do you think…?"
"The Sith. That's the only thing I can think of. No one but, obviously, Master Yoda knew assuredly."
The bitterness from the Mon-Calamarian was strange. "He…Anakin…will want to know the story." She looked at Obi-Wan almost apologetically. "I only know parts of it myself. Not about the…I know some of what happened between my master and yours, Obi-Wan. Anakin has the right to know…"
"I'll help you."
Siri helped him to stand. "Let me know how it goes."
Obi-Wan sharply glanced at her. "Where are you going?"
"I have to take Han home."
His look was stern and not meant to be doubted. "You will return here as soon as he's settled."
Siri nodded and quickly kissed his cheek. "I love you."
"And I you."
She left, and Bant walked with Obi-Wan to the lift. "I don't think I'm going to get used to seeing the two of you so…I cannot even describe it."
"You'll get used to it."
"You think so?"
"Bant, love, we won't give you any choice."
†
The water had at first been too hot. Now it grew cool as Anakin remained under the sanistream, his hands braced on the tiles in front of him.
He had nearly scrubbed his skin raw in his efforts to cleanse himself. The paint from his disguise had washed off easily. The dust and grime of his battle were rinsed away. If only he could get his conscience to flee down the drain as well.
Anakin felt the crushing weight of disbelief all over again. He went over the words in his head. He desperately tried to amend the disparities in his heart to belie the words. It could not be done. He would have to admit it. The Sith had not lied to him. Qui-Gon Jinn was his father. His mother…
Shmi…He missed her. Did she know?
Betrayal. What would he give not to know any of it. So much of his life was based on lies. The path of it had been unnecessarily wrought with misery. He knew he should rejoice at the news that a man he respected, a man he loved had sired him. He would have, had the consequences of his absence not scarred him.
Anakin had made his life work out for the best. He could not complain, nor would he. He had everything he had ever wanted now. Friends, the Jedi Mastery…His beautiful wife and their extraordinary children. They had helped him with his troubles, brought him to a magnificent place of peace—more than he had ever thought he could have. He was a man who truly had everything.
Except his father.
Anakin sighed. His body rebelled against the frigid water, and he began to shiver.
It didn't matter.
He thought of Shmi. A wonderful mother who thought nothing of herself, only of her boy. She'd tried to shelter him. She had tried to protect him from all things, but she could not succeed. Their misfortune had been thrust upon them, and there had seemingly been no way out of it.
Until Qui-Gon Jinn stepped into that junk shop and changed the course of Anakin…and Shmi's lives forever.
Unbidden, Anakin remembered the feel of Watto's punishing hits to his small body.
Anakin clenched his chattering teeth against the memory.
"Qui-Gon," he whispered with grief. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Out in the hall, Bant groaned with sympathy. "Poor Anakin."
Obi-Wan kept his feelings to himself and waved the door to his room open. They walked inside, and Bant glanced around. Anakin had strewn his clothes over the carpet as he had walked to the refresher. Obi-Wan slowly, as if in habit, bent to retrieve them. He stood there for a moment, folding each item methodically.
"Bant," he called softly. "Would you see if you can find him a change of clothes?"
"Sure." She stopped at the door. "Should I wait a few minutes before I return?"
"No." He tried to smile. "It will be fine. I just…He should have a fresh pair of clothes."
"I'll be back shortly."
"Thank you."
Bant walked out, the door sliding closed behind her, and Obi-Wan placed the worn garments into his hamper. He pulled his robe from the closet and stepped into the refresher, steam enveloping him despite the chill in the air.
"Anakin?"
There was no response. Obi-Wan opened the door to the stall. Anakin sat on the floor, knees to his chest and his arms around them. The water was turning his skin blue, but he didn't appear to notice. He stared blankly ahead of him.
Obi-Wan reached inside to shut off the stream and sat on his hunches. "Anakin?"
Teeth chattering, Anakin finally turned his head. He looked surprised. "Master?"
Obi-Wan sighed. He had seen that look in Anakin's eyes far too many times, and he reacted now as he had before, speaking to the man as though he were still his very young padawan. His tone was paternal, patient, and filled with affection.
"Come, my friend," he said and held out his hand. "We can talk."
Anakin looked confused. "Talk?"
"Yes," Obi-Wan smiled. "That usually helps, doesn't it?"
There was mercifully no denying that. "Yes."
"Then come. Stand up. You can put this on. Bant is coming with a change of clothes."
Anakin moved like a cipher, biddable and weak. Obi-Wan helped him to rise, and his arms went into the sleeves of Obi-Wan's serviceable robe. He numbly watched Obi-Wan belt it closed.
His voice was hoarse. "Did you know?"
Obi-Wan met his gaze and opened his mouth to answer, but Anakin answered himself.
"No," he replied adamantly, his stare strong. "You would have told me."
There was no hesitation. "Yes, Anakin. Had I known, I would have told you the truth."
You are just as much a part of him as he is to you, Qui-Gon had told him about Obi-Wan. There is nothing you have to face, no challenge, where he would abandon you…
"Thank you," Anakin gulped.
Obi-Wan led him out of the refresher and into the main living area. "I know you have a lot of questions, and I know that I will not be able to answer all of them. Bant will return momentarily, and she may be able to fill in some aspects."
He pointed to the sleeping couch. "Anakin, you're shivering. Here. Put this blanket around you. I'll go put on some tea."
"I'm not thirsty."
"It's not for you."
"Then pour me a cup."
Obi-Wan managed to smile on his way to the kitchen. Anakin was getting his lucidity back. He went through the motions of preparing the beverage and watched Anakin. "What would you like to know first?"
A difficult question. There was so much going through his mind at once. Where to begin?
"The Sith in the bunker told me that I was sired by a Master Jedi on a Master Jedi," Anakin told him. "If Qui-Gon…"
"Anakin," Obi-Wan softly assured him, "Qui-Gon is your father."
He swallowed. "Who is…Who was the Master he…he…?"
The door slid open and Bant carried a Master's uniform inside. "Tahl, Master Jedi. Keeper of the Archives. My Master."
Anakin frowned and watched her place the clothes next to him. She stroked his wet hair once and took a chair across from him. "Kit was your master."
Reflexively, they bowed their heads in remembrance of their lost friend before continuing.
"Master Fisto became my master upon Master Tahl's death."
Anakin thought he should feel something, some kind of emotion upon that. He could not feel her loss. He did not know her. He had no memory of her.
He sought to remedy that.
"What was she like?" he asked the room.
"Incredibly smart," Bant replied, her large eyes appearing liquid. "She had a very meticulous and sharp memory for facts, details. If you ever needed to know everything about anything going on within the galaxy, she was your woman."
Anakin nodded, fascinated. His own ability to retain information was hindered by his near total indifference to much of it. He preferred to keep his mind on the things he took interest. That he could possess such a gift was useful. He should try to make an effort.
"I assume Qui-Gon and Tahl met here."
"Yes," Obi-Wan answered. "They were both brought here when they were infants—like Bant and myself."
Anakin looked at him. "And Siri."
"And Siri."
"She was brave." Bant was smiling now in reflection. "Our missions were…interesting. And she could pilot better than anyone else I know."
The look in her eyes changed to one of excitement and discovery. "Except you!"
Anakin smiled to indulge her. "That's nice. But I thought you said she was the keeper of the Archives."
"She wasn't always regulated to Temple." Obi-Wan brought the tray over to them and handed each of them a cup. "She was quite a mission Knight before she was injured."
"What happened to her?"
"She was blinded by the cut of a lightsaber," Bant explained. "It happened during a mission on Melida/Daan."
Anakin looked at his artificial arm and muttered, "She was maimed."
Obi-Wan and Bant exchanged a look, and Obi-Wan said, "Her hearing became more acute, however, and her Force-sensitivity continued to serve her well."
"Master Yoda gave her a droid to act as her personal assistant."
"Yes." Obi-Wan could not hide the hint of loathing in his voice when he added, "We found out later that the 2JTJ was planted by Xanatos."
"Qui-Gon's first apprentice?"
"And would be assassin."
Anakin looked back and forth between them. "So?"
"I do not believe that her death would have mattered much to her by then," Bant whispered sadly, her thoughts far away.
"What do you mean?"
Obi-Wan was looking at Bant, not Anakin. "You're thinking of New Apsolon."
"Her demise happened before then, Obi-Wan." She shook her head. "I cannot explain it."
Bant looked at Anakin. "Tahl had grown melancholy. Dejected. She took the mission without thinking. As she was ordered, but…I think she was knew she was going to…"
At once, Siri's actions on Korriban rose to Obi-Wan's mind and he muttered soberly, "Die."
Anakin remained impassive, "She was killed?"
"Yes. A man named Balog did it."
Anakin was not the only one getting the story today. Pieces of Obi-Wan's own past were finally being sewn together. He wanted the pattern logically followed to completion.
"She was still alive when Qui-Gon arrived on the scene," Obi-Wan said dazedly. He could still see it in his mind, and he automatically placed his actions on that salt bed in with the images of Qui-Gon above Tahl.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes. Comprehension soaked his brain. "He couldn't save her."
Anakin stared at Obi-Wan with wonder. His master looked nearly ill. "What did he do then, Master?"
Obi-Wan took a deep breath and met his gaze. "He almost murdered Balok there and then."
"But he didn't."
"He heard someone tell him not to, that it was wrong. He mustn't."
Bant said, "He thought it had been Obi-Wan."
"But it wasn't."
Recognition dawned on Anakin. "Tahl did."
"Her teachings and her studies did not fail her," Bant told him. "Nor her faith. When she became one with the Force, she knew the immortality of it as well. She could still reach him."
Like my father can with me, Anakin thought. Then, his expression became guarded. Why had his birth mother never tried to reach him?
Obi-Wan remembered how disconsolate his master had become after he lost Tahl. He had done what he thought he could to give him solace, but the pain of her loss had never left him.
After so many years, he was only beginning to understand it as well.
Anakin persevered. "They were close friends then."
"Yes," Bant replied. "You should have seen them before all the tragedies struck, Anakin. They were a pair."
Obi-Wan thought of his Siri, reflected on their lives together at Temple and smiled. "You seem to remember more about them when they were younger than I."
"Well," Bant sighed. "I must say, it was intriguing. How could it not be? Two Jedi…colleagues, friends—best friends. No one had ever dreamed Temple would be such a hot-bed of romance…"
"Romance?" Anakin and Obi-Wan exclaimed in unison.
Bant was taken aback. "Why…yes. I spent much of my developing years with Tahl, Obi-Wan. Didn't you know? Didn't you see it?"
"I knew that Qui-Gon cared for her, but…"
For Anakin, the inference equated much and the most to sharpen the blurred images racing through his brain.
Master…have you ever been in love?
Yes.
His tone was revealing and filled with awe. "They were in love."
Incredulous, Bant reached out to hold Anakin's flesh hand between hers. "Ani…what did you think? Did you think you were some sort of scientific plot? You were a natural conception. You were the culmination of a very human emotion and a very human act of divinity. They loved each other very much."
A life-long paradigm broke in an instant for Obi-Wan. For Anakin, this new revelation filled him with pity and sorrow for two good, decent people who had not stood a chance against the cruel and antiquated codes of the Jedi Order.
Anakin did not have to hear further details from Bant as to what had happened between his mother and father. Knowing what he did of this lifestyle he could piece the rest of it together himself.
Qui-Gon and Tahl had been discovered by Yoda and the rest of the Council. It was suggested that they put aside their love for the good of the Jedi. Attachment was dangerous. Leaving the Order would make them, inevitably, miserable.
Anger filled him. He sat there on his old sleep couch brimming with it. So a cycle had begun. Qui-Gon and Tahl. Obi-Wan and Siri.
Anakin and Padmé.
Anakin and his parents…who had conceived him in love. A love they'd been told would destroy them. It had, but not by the means Yoda must have intimated. His hypothesis would have been much kinder in its prettier delusion, but it still would not have been the truth.
Obi-Wan's thoughts were similar. "Did Yoda confront them?"
Bant was oblivious to their thoughts but moaned her regret. "I do not know. Tahl disappeared for a time, Ani. That must have been when she discovered you existed."
For the first time, Anakin saw his birth mother's image. Alone and frightened, Tahl had wandered the Outer Rim searching for the means to provide her child with a safe and healthy delivery. She had wanted to find a vessel—a strong, healthy and mostly, kind, vessel to carry her and Qui-Gon's seed.
Enter Shmi Skywalker.
The pain and confusion hit Anakin square between the eyes. Tahl had loved him. Tahl had given up her son to protect Qui-Gon from the disapproving Council. It had tortured her knowing what she must do to save them all and being utterly horrified at not being allowed to raise her own child.
Tahl had loved Qui-Gon, and she had loved Anakin.
Had the Jedi Council not interfered, what would there lives be now? How different could it have been?
Everything coming into focus was piercing, and Anakin knew Obi-Wan felt it too. How much pain could have avoided in the single act of compassion Yoda had failed to bestow upon his knights?
Their love had not been immoral, but their break up had been calamitous.
His voice was vibrating with barely controlled fury. "Their lives here were made up of stolen moments hidden from view. They skulked about like thieves for so much as a glimpse of each other. They had to pretend around the people they cared most about in this world, and they had to hide nearly every feeling they had to keep from being found out."
Anakin thought of the past three years and Padmé.
They were just like he and Padmé.
"Before Maul on Naboo. Before Ventress and the cliff…" He turned to Obi-Wan. "What was the worst moment of your life?"
Obi-Wan knew where he was leading. "Anakin, I know you're angry…"
"You feel it too," Anakin seethed. "Don't tell me you don't. You've gone twenty years without her, Obi-Wan. For no good reason."
Obi-Wan would not lie to him. There would be healing with the anger, but he doubted Anakin would appreciate that right now. Perhaps it needed to be this way.
The man had a right to vent. And Obi-Wan would not nay-say him.
"The day in the Room of A Thousand fountains," he answered. "But Anakin, it was Qui-Gon who orchestrated that."
"Only because he thought he was speaking from experience. He would never willingly cause you pain, but he had been brainwashed into believing your forfeit of Siri would be for the best. He took counsel from someone who never allowed him to know he'd fathered a son!"
Bant tried to calm him. "Anakin, you don't know why Yoda kept the truth from you."
He stood and snatched the clothes from beside him. "Then I will ask him."
"Anakin, wait!" Obi-Wan beseeched him. "Calm down. Please! It will not serve you to barge into Master Yoda's chambers in a rage. You must calm down."
"I am not strong like you, Obi-Wan." Anakin brought a shaking hand to Bant's shoulder. "And I'm not kind and patient like you, Bant."
"Anakin," Obi-Wan sighed heavily. "Please give him a chance to explain his side. Please? You may find out that his intentions were very good ones. Master Yoda has always protected us. That is his attachment."
Logic was not Anakin's closest ally at the moment, and he was unbelievably aware that it should be. That was saying something given the fury he felt.
If he sought to get the gift of truth from the only living horse, he couldn't very well kick it in the teeth.
Obi-Wan saw the change in him and nearly collapsed with relief. "Calm down. Please. I will go with you, but you must clear your mind."
Anakin knew he was right, but the weight of hurt and grief plagued him like a rash.
He shook his head again with amazement. "They were in love, Obi-Wan."
Bant looked on them with sympathy as he finished, "Like me and Padmé. Like you and Siri. But they never stood a chance."
Neither Obi-Wan or Bant could find an argument for that.