Disclaimers: Star Wars belongs to Lucas Arts. Cerasi, Nield, Melida/Daan et al belong to Jude Watson; but I have more fun with them, so I'm going to borrow them. Don't worry. No money was made.
Author's Notes: Ah, yes. So you see; I AM obsessed with Melida/Daan and Cerasi! Anyway. What would have happened to Obi-Wan if Cerasi *hadn't* died? I doubt he would have left; definitely not as soon as he did. So, here I am, speculating, running on three hours of sleep, and trying to scrap together all the jotted-down ideas I've had since yesterday morning. R/R please! (I hope I don't start typing in French again...agh...that's what I'm thinking in...so sorry in advance if you don't understand!) *text* = italics
But What If...
Twelve Years Before...
Obi-Wan handed his light saber to Qui-Gon. "You may go, Qui-Gon Jinn. But I will stay."
...Obi-Wan had hurt him. He longed to take the words back. He could not. He had meant them.
Qui-Gon did not look at him. He did not say a word. He turned and strode up the ramp, into the starfighter. Obi-Wan stood back as the engines powered up. The starfighter rose cleanly from the canyon and shot off into the upper atmosphere.
He stood watching until it was out of sight. Then Obi-Wan turned his back. He hurried down the path, back to Zehava and his new life.
Cerasi and Nield were waiting.
And now...
He walked down the rocky path, towards the cliffs overlooking a rugged sea shore. Dust and ash covered everything like a fine layer of choking snow. His boots kicked it aside, and it would lazily rise and circle about his legs before settling back down. The people back in Zehava were all sticky and gray, but they smiled as they worked; the war was over, and they could rebuild at last.
Those who could still manage to care about the Elders after the long, bloody war had buried their older family members near the cliffs. Cerasi had been one of the few who wanted a memorial spot for her father, who had died just a few weeks before the war officially ended.
She was kneeling in front of the black stone inscribed with her father's name. She was as coated in dust as everything else, and mud streaked her face, but her eyes shone when she looked up at him and gave him a half-hearted smile.
She pushed herself up and stood in front of him. "How do you feel?" Obi-Wan asked.
Aside from her grief over her father's death and her brother's disappearance, she was two months pregnant, which made her radiant, but occasionally very sick. She shook her head. "Well enough." she peered at him for a moment. "What's wrong?"
He frowned and looked away. He could never truly hide anything from her; his wife seemed to have a sixth sense towards her friends as strong as he had ever seen any Jedi have. But he couldn't explain what was bothering him, and didn't answer.
"We'll talk later," she told him. "It sounds like they're ready to start removing the land mines from the field."
"Be careful," he said as she started the climb back to the city. Their child would be the first born under the new government; though like all parents, they worried whether or not the baby *would* be born. Food was scarce, and Obi-Wan wondered often if Cerasi were eating enough for them both. Removing land mines was anything but a safe job. The majority of the planet wanted peace, but not everyone did, and he and Cerasi were now leaders; as a Jedi trainee, he had learned more than enough about assassination.
But just now, alone and staring at the vast ocean, those concerns weren't the only ones plaguing his mind. He had dreamed of Qui-Gon Jinn. In twelve years, he had worked hard to forget those years and move on; the only times he allowed himself to think of the Jedi Master were when Cerasi forced him to.
Something *was* wrong, and he couldn't doubt it. He shuddered as he again thought of Qui-Gon Jinn. That man was a big part of...whatever this was.