Failure
Post-TPM. POV. Three weeks after Qui-Gon's death, Obi-Wan tries to come to terms with the promise that he made. This story takes place between the events in "Empty" and "Promise."
I thought I was ready, Master.
I thought that what I had learned from you in our twelve years together was enough.
I thought I had the strength to do this on my own. To become a master. To train Anakin. To fulfill my promise to you.
This is all much more difficult than I ever imagined. And now I am so unsure of what I thought I could do just weeks ago. It's been three weeks now since your passing. I've learned much in that time. I've learned much about myself. I know that I am not ready for this task that I have undertaken. But you thought that I was? Why else would you ask me to do what I see now as impossible? You were insistent that Anakin be trained, but why me, Master? Why would you have me make a promise that I am not prepared for? You know I would have promised you anything in that moment. You knew I would not deny you your dying wish. How could I?
Things are moving so fast. One moment I was your apprentice. The next moment you were gone and I had an apprentice of my own. I've been so unfocused, Master. So unfocused. I don't think I've meditated but a few hours since I returned home from Naboo. I've tried, but I am unable to stay centered on one task. When I close my eyes, every detail of the past month floods my mind. Everything runs together and any attempt at meditation becomes almost painful. I know how easy it was for you to connect with the Force. It was always more difficult for me, but you were always patient in your teachings about working with the Force rather than against it. I could use those teachings now. Your voice was always enough to calm my fears and focus my confusion. But your voice is gone. I am left to face this future alone. My tangled thoughts complicating my every step.
I need guidance in this, Master. I admit it. I am not ready for an apprentice. Especially one with such an uncertain and clouded future. Master Yoda is the only one of the council to offer support in this, yet he is against my training of your 'chosen one'. I defended my promise to you before him. I told him I would train Anakin with or without approval of the council. He responded by saying that I had your defiance in me, something I didn't need.
Did I learn that defiance from you? Or was it simply my desire to make you proud of me. I needed you to know that I could handle this responsibility. That I would not let you down. I thought I was capable. Perhaps my sense of pride won't allow me to admit my failure in this now. I've debated seeking the council's assistance with Anakin. I know how they feel about him. How they felt about you. I would imagine they are none to pleased with the apprentice of the master who was such a thorn in their side. I can't go to them for help. I have to prove to myself...to everyone...that I can be a competent master. That I can handle a strong willed boy. That I don't need the constant presence of my own master to see me through.
I can't do this alone. But I can't ask for help. This is my responsibility. My challenge. It is as you say, the will of the Force. Or is it? Is it the will of the Force, or just another of your crusades to save every stray in the galaxy? Is there a reason beyond honoring your dying wish that Anakin and I have been brought together? I wish I knew.
He's not an easy boy, Master. He learns quickly. Takes everything in. But right now, he's still a child who was taken from his home. Taken from everything that he knew and loved. Our relationship is strained to say the least. We were both thrown together after losing the one who raised us. One would think we'd have a great deal in common. Something to talk about. Something to bring us together. But it hasn't. If anything, it's made things more difficult for us both. Each of us wants to and has to deal with our loss. As we both must face our future without a loved one there to guide us.
I don't know what our future holds together, but I don't foresee Anakin and I having a relationship as you and I had. I will teach him. I will guide him. I will comfort him. But will I ever love him as a friend? Will I ever allow myself to get close to him? I feel uneasy around him, Master. There is something there that worries me. But I will not allow that to interfere with our training. I cannot allow it. Perhaps it's that doubt that will remain as a wall between us. An obstacle for us to overcome. I don't know. Things have changed so much for us all in these past weeks. Sometimes I wish that I was a young padawan again. Just beginning to learn. You would take me under your wing and teach me all that you knew. Things were so much simpler then. I had your shadow to protect me. I had your guidance to see me through. Why don't I feel that with Anakin? How do I teach him what I still have yet to learn? Was my devotion to you so strong that I would blindly agree to train a boy that unnerves even the council?
Is this a test for me? If it is, I don't understand the actions of the council. If they see so much anger in Anakin, why do they allow me to train him? Despite my words to Master Yoda that I would train him no matter what, ultimately they have the power to take him from me. I am a inexperienced knight fresh with the grief of losing his master. I watched as you were slain before my eyes. And held you as you took your last breath. Why would they continue to allow me to take on this quest of training a boy who's future is so uncertain...so clouded? Are they blind to my grief? Or perhaps they are trying to prove their point. Taking a stand against the defiant Qui-Gon Jinn once and for all. Either way, I don't have an answer. I only wish...you were here, Master. I miss you. But I never realized how much I would miss you until you were gone. I was safe with you. You offered security. And you were always the one that I could turn to. I fear that Anakin and I will never share that same kind of bond. It will mean my failure as a master...my failure as a Jedi.
I thought I was ready, Master.
I thought I could do this on my own.
What I am finding out is that I am to proud to ask for help. To proud to admit that I might fail. To scared that I will fail the one person in my life that I never meant to fail.
I'm not ready for this, Master. Please forgive me for my failure. I only wanted to make you proud.
END
