This story has been rolling around my head for a couple of years now. I hope you all enjoy! I will pretend for now that I will be good about updating XD

He figured that the afterlife would be misty, or empty, or bright just as the Force had always felt to him. What a surprise it was to see all this green. And empty it was not, though he had met no one in hours. There were birds singing merrily as they settled down with the sinking sun, ant swarms beneath his feet, a rustling now and again in the trees of some small rodent or lizard. This was certainly much better than Tatooine. He stamped down his disappointment. When Qui Gon had taught him the path to immortality, and to others as well, he had hoped… and there was the problem. He had dared to spend time on silly, fragile hopes. They were part of the force now, he was sure they had much better things to do than wait around for him of all people. Being a Jedi knight was never about reward or passion. Just as it had been in life, his purpose was to serve the Force, not his own selfish ends.

A sweet whistling piped up, in the distance, more constant than the birds. Obi Wan's heart leapt, then quickly plummeted. There was no way. He had just conjured it up because he had just been thinking about the others, and remembering the cold, dark, lonely nights on Tatooine.

But the whistling had not stopped. It was undeniable. His head snapped up.

He could hear a distant sizzle accompany it that spoke of a pan over a fire.

He hastened forward, noticing that his joints no longer ached as he did so. "Hello, there!"

"The whistling paused. "Hi, Mister! Hurry, the food is almost finished!"

Obi wan tore around a tree and stumbled into the hollow that abruptly dipped underneath it.

"Careful, Mister! You aren't dead yet. Zeno doesn't know nearly as much about fixing others."

He found himself blinking up into the extremely blue eyes and extremely young face of a complete stranger. Obi Wan's heart once again sank, but he plastered on a smile quickly. And really, it was quite a gift just to be able to have company at all. It was a luxury he hadn't afforded himself since the war. He glanced around at the small cookfire and the blankets laid out. Maybe the stranger would even let him stay in his camp for the night.

The young man smiled knowingly. "Zeno is not much to look at, no?" he joked.

"Ah, it's not that..." Obi Wan smiled sheepishly. "I beg your pardon. I just mistook you for someone else, that's all."

Zeno's smile took on more warmth and fondness. People didn't smile very often on Tatooine, certainly not at Obi Wan. "All in good time, Mister. You aren't even dead yet! There are many who are eager to see you, but there are things that must happen between first."

Obi wan simply nodded, though his eyes narrowed in confusion. He settled on the ground next to his host.

Presently a plate of roots was shoved into his hands. "Eat first, then Mister and Zeno will meditate."

The roots smelled delicious, and the starch filled and filled him with warmth and contentment. When was the last time he had eaten anything other than a ration bar? He couldn't recall.

Zeno finished somehow faster than him, but waited politely for him to finish before taking seconds. Obi Wan didn't. The one serving had more than filled him up.

They spent the evening in meditation, though unlike his usual silent meditations, this was guided by the soft tenor of Zeno's voice. That, and the abundance of night insects and sleeping plants around them, pulled him to the here and now in a way his desert meditations never had. Those took him far, far away. This was grounding, anchoring, and made this place, so unexpected and impossible, feel almost real for the first time.

When they finished Obi Wan felt Zeno's piercing gaze on him once again, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight with a hidden spark. "Zeno knows you have questions. Will you ask them?"

Obi Wan shook his head, pausing when he only received that steady gaze back. He thought carefully, sorting through the windmill of thoughts in his head. "Why am I here?"

"So Mister will be prepared for what comes after."

"And when will that be?"

"It is hard to say."

Obi Wan allowed a small wistful smile to creep onto his face. "Well, I've made it this far. A little more patience won't kill me."

Zeno's soft, mysterious smile once again spoke of complete understanding. "Mister is good at waiting." Before Obi Wan could register his surprise, Zeno's face broke into a huge childish grin, and a sturdy blanket hit Obi Wan in the head. "Well, goodnight, Mister!" Zeno was asleep in seconds. Obi Wan took longer, gazing up at the shadows of leaves and the spark of the stars, wrapping himself in the living force that so openly and freely surrounded him. He clung to it harder than he had ever clung to anything in his life.

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Obi Wan glanced away from the sun brushing through the golden hair that stirred on the other side of the fire as the dawn finally crept through the trees. He resolutely hunched over the coals he had fanned up since long before the dawn and to the pot that he filled from a nearby stream to turn the remnants of their dinner into a hearty soup. Out of the corner of his eye, Zeno stole his abandoned blanket, pouting when it was devoid of warmth. "Mister rises so early that he makes the sun look lazy."

Steam began to rise from the pot instead of just from their breath. Obi Wan focused on the steam, the soup, his breath, the trees, anything else but the young man beside him. There had been a small head of golden hair in one of his dreams, he now recalled…

He jumped when Zeno popped up right next to him to sniff the soup, and jumped a second time when Zeno screamed about how good of a cook he was.

Obi Wan dragged the frazzled parts of himself together and managed a small, amused grin. "You're the one who made it, I just added water." He refused to make eye contact, though he could feel the glance Zeno shot him.

"So what do we do after this? So I can be ready to die?" Obi Wan said quickly. "More meditation?"

"Zeno thinks, " he stated, "that we should plant.

"Plant?"

"And build. The spring rains will begin soon."

So that was how, for the first time in nearly 50 years, Obi Wan Kenobi found himself planting a garden.

The early spring day hardly got warmer, but Obi Wan found that he didn't mind the chill. It was sharp and present, just like the meditation had been last night. Also, Zeno had wrapped a cloak around that hair of his, and it was much easier to look at him without seeing the boy in his dreams die in a thousand agonizing ways.

"Wow, so fast! Is Mister a farmer?"

Obi Wan smiled wryly. "No. I wish I had been. It would have saved the world a lot of grief."

To his surprise, Zeno didn't inquire further, just ran to splash water from their pot on the rows of newly planted seeds. "Besides, this is a much nicer place to plant than Bandomeer," Obi Wan found himself continuing to his surprise. "It's nice to work in a place that actually wants life, that doesn't try to crush it." Bandomeer had never wanted life. It tried to stamp out or burn or hurt anything that grew there. Little Jedi Initiate rejects too. "And it is certainly welcome to have another pair of hands." He found himself admitting.

Zeno nodded. "Of course."

Next they went searching for straight branches to make a shelter. After a bit Obi Wan realized he could no longer hear the tumbling of the stream and stopped short. Here he was at it again. He had lost his squad. How would he find his way back to base, he didn't even know where he was…

"Mister? All good?"

Obi Wan spun around, h's hand jumping to his lightsaber. For a heartbeat they both looked down at it.

"I… yes. I'm alright." Obi wan managed.

"Zeno will help carry."

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Obi Wan felt himself withdrawing more and more as the evening went on. Dinner was quiet and subdued. Meditating wasn't any better. Obi Wan felt himself keep jerking out of it every time he started to relax. He didn't want someone with him in his head guiding him. He didn't want to be here, present, anywhere. Couldn't he just die already, or would death be just as insufferable as this?"

How useless was he if he couldn't even meditate properly? The Force had no use for a servant like him. No wonder he hadn't passed on already.

A hand touched his arm. "Let's try tomorrow. Zeno wants to sleep now."

Obi Wan filled his lungs with a deep breath and nodded, grateful for the excuse.

His mind immediately went from dreading meditation to dreading sleep. How could he sleep like this, drowned in his own lack of senses? But that was alright, he didn't need to sleep, just be still and quiet. He had been over this many times with himself since he was a teenager until now. But even staying still seemed an impossible task right now.

He jumped nearly half a foot when Zeno flopped down right next to him, swiping the corner of his blanket.

"Excuse me!" Obi Wan choked out.

"What?" asked Zeno sleepily, and way too innocently.

"You already have a blanket AND a cloak."

Zeno simply hummed and threw part of his blanket around them too, though blessedly his cloak remained wrapped tight around his hair and body. Obi Wan found himself next to a curled up, sleeping Zeno before any more protests could leave his lips. And he would never admit it, but the warmth next to him and the slow breathing were forcibly soothing. His breath soon matched the rise and fall of the lump by his side. It reminded him of the time that his master had brought home a tooka kit and Obi Wan had accidentally fallen asleep beneath it instead of completing any of his homework. Qui Gon had not woken him, and had simply laughed at his shamefaced apology. Obi Wan still stared into the night for ages, sleepless. But somehow it wasn't nearly as unbearable anymore.