When Anakin woke the next morning, the sky was just beginning to lighten. He lay under the covers for a few moments, stretching out his arms and legs as far as they would go. Nope. He couldn't touch opposite sides of the bed at the same time, no matter how far he stretched or at what angle he lay. He had thought his bed at the Jedi Temple was luxury, but this – this was like floating on a cloud. The sheets were smooth and cool, the duvet oh, so fluffy, and he had no fewer than four pillows, all to himself! Ah, how sweet it would be to be a prince of Alderaan! But then, he was a prince of Alderaan, wasn't he? Hadn't Papa Vil and Mimi told him that Obi-Wan was like a son to them? Hadn't they said Anakin should think of their home as his? Prince Anakin of Alderaan. Yup. That sounded pretty good. Or better yet: Jedi Prince Anakin of Alderaan. Now there was a name.
Yesterday he became a prince, and today he would become a Jedi. His skin tingling with excitement, he leaped out of bed and sought out his clothes. To his chagrin, he still hadn't quite figured out the complicated layers of tunic. He could get the undershirt and overshirt just fine, but the stola and sash continued to defy his attempts to master them. No matter how many times he did it, the lot ended up hopelessly askew. He gritted his teeth in frustration. He was far too old to need help getting dressed. What kind of a pathetic Jedi was he if he couldn't even manage the clothes?
At last conceding defeat, he gathered up the offending clothes, not forgetting the bead which he had carefully replaced in its little box the night before, and passed through the 'fresher into Obi-Wan's room.
Obi-Wan was still asleep, and Anakin belatedly realized he probably shouldn't just barge into his Master's room without asking. He had never entered Obi-Wan's room on Coruscant. Then again, they had a common room on Coruscant where Anakin could hang out, waiting for Obi-Wan to appear in the morning. Heaving a resigned sigh, Anakin laid his things out on the couch, then pulled a chair up to the window so he could look at the river.
There had been lots of traffic on the river when they had arrived yesterday. The concept that people could use water like a road had amazed Anakin, and he loved watching all the different boats traveling back and forth along the river. The morning was still too young, however, for many people to be out and about yet. He only counted four boats as he watched the sky lighten rapidly with the approaching first sunrise. Correction: *only* sunrise. Just one sun here. So many changes for him to get used to. Who could have guessed that each planet would be so different? Four down, and about a million to go. Anakin wasn't worried. He'd get to them all eventually.
What he did not have patience for, however, was waiting for Obi-Wan to wake up. The highest rooftops of the city by now had caught fire with the rising sun. At this rate, Anakin groused, the day would be half over before Obi-Wan finally got up. This was supposed to be the first day of Anakin's training, and he was eager to start. He slid off the chair and approached Obi-Wan's bed. The Jedi lay on his stomach, his face turned toward the wall, one arm curled loosely around his pillow. Anakin watched his slow, even breathing, debating whether or not he ought to wake him. Maybe if he just kind of…poked him a little bit. He reached out a cautious hand.
Suddenly Obi-Wan lurched upright, smoothly twisting around to face Anakin, who squeaked and jumped back in alarm. "Anakin!" Obi-Wan demanded. "What's wrong?"
The boy swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his ears. "I-I-I…"
Obi-Wan relaxed, sensing no danger, and he realized what had happened. "It's all right, Anakin," he said in soothing tones. "A Jedi sleeps very lightly, ready to wake in an instant. I sensed you concentrating on me."
"I-I'm sorry," Anakin stammered.
"It's all right," Obi-Wan repeated, climbing out of bed and stretching. It was a good thing he hadn't asked Bail to stay last night. He hoped Anakin wasn't planning on sneaking into his room every morning.
As Obi-Wan began his morning routine, Anakin persistently followed him, and Obi-Wan had to suppress an urge to growl at him. The boy was so clingy.
"What are we going to do today?" Anakin asked.
"We will begin your training."
"Yeah, but what are we going to do?"
"You'll find out when the time comes. For now you must learn patience." The words echoed in his head in Qui-Gon's accent. How many times had his master said the same thing to him, when he was scarcely older than Anakin?
"But even if you tell me what we're going to do, I'll still have to be patient until we do it," Anakin pointed out. "So why don't you just tell me now?"
Obi-Wan was perturbed, but
he refused to let it show. Why not,
indeed? Probably because he wasn't
certain himself what they were going to do.
He was sort of hoping the Force would show him, but he wasn't about to
tell Anakin that. It was the Master's
prerogative to be obtuse. Changing the
subject, he said, "I see you're still having trouble with your tunic."
Anakin scowled, an expression that looked entirely too cute on his young
face. "Why do we have to wear such
complicated clothes, anyway?"
"It's one of the mysteries of being a Jedi," Obi-Wan answered enigmatically.
Anakin scowled again, not certain whether Obi-Wan was making fun or him or not.
Obi-Wan stifled a smile, then ordered, "Pay close attention," while he dressed himself. Anakin watched closely, trying to mirror Obi-Wan with his own tunic, but it still came out sloppy and uneven.
"See?" he whined petulantly.
Obi-Wan knelt in front of Anakin, undoing the boy's work and straightening out the stola. "I know it's hard. I had to learn, too, you know."
"You make it look so easy," Anakin grumbled.
"That's because I've been doing it since I was five. You will learn it in time." He finished wrapping the sash around the boy's tiny waist. Giving a final tug on the stola, he pronounced, "There."
Anakin surveyed the results, biting back his impatience at Obi-Wan's mastery of the layers. "I guess this is another one of those lessons in patience?"
Obi-Wan's eyes twinkled, and he favored Anakin with a hint of a smile. "Now you've solved the mystery," he quipped.
Anakin froze, staring at Obi-Wan in surprise. Was that humor in his young master's usually staid countenance? It looked like it, but he wasn't quite sure he trusted his own perception.
Before Anakin could figure him out, Obi-Wan stood. "Let's go down to breakfast, then, shall we?"
"What about my bead?" Anakin asked.
"Oh, yes." Kneeling once more, Obi-Wan unfastened the boy's braid, combing through the lock of hair with his fingers, then rebraided it, secured the bead, and tied it off. "Now you look like a proper Padawan."
As Obi-Wan stood, Anakin reached up and lightly fingered the bead, his face glowing in quiet contentment. The sight filled Obi-Wan's poor, tired heart with a similar joy, an emotion both pure and painful in its intensity, and Obi-Wan had to fight back sudden tears. Maybe... I could get used to this, he thought.
They headed downstairs to join the Organas for breakfast. Anakin didn't want to mention the promised cake, but it turned out he didn't have to: Papa Vil had a large piece waiting for him. Anakin thought he caught a glimpse of disapproval on Obi-Wan's features, but it was gone so fast Anakin couldn't be sure. Bail, on the other hand, found the notion of cake for breakfast so appealing he decided to join Anakin in a piece, but Obi-Wan stuck to grains and milk.
"And muja juice," Bail announced, pouring out a glass for Anakin and one for Obi-Wan. "You'd better get used to it fast, ti-bai, because it's all he ever drinks."
Anakin took a sip of the blue juice, finding it tart and delicious. "It's good," he said.
"So what are the two of you going to do today?" Bail asked.
Anakin glanced at Obi-Wan with an impertinent smirk, which Obi-Wan studiously ignored. "We will begin Anakin's training."
"Starting with what?"
Anakin hid his laugh by stuffing his mouth full of cake.
"Basic exercises," was Obi-Wan's succinct reply.
"Whenever that means," Bail said, echoing Anakin's thoughts. He was starting to really like the Prince. "Feel free to use the ballroom as a training salle," Bail offered. "Its plenty big enough."
Vilnis made a sudden choking sound, and Radha turned to him in amusement. "Why not? We haven't had a ball in ages. It might as well be put to good use."
When Vilnis failed to look convinced, Bail offered, "Look at it this way, Papa, if they get saber scorch marks on the floor, it will just give you an excuse to re-finish it."
Anakin's head whipped around to face Obi-Wan, his eyes lit in excitement, but Obi-Wan shook his head. "We're not ready for lightsabers yet," he said. "Not by a long shot. Don't worry, your Highness, we won't damage your floor."
Vilnis nodded, struggling to regain his sense of hospitality. "Really, Obi-Wan, go ahead and use the ballroom or any other room in the house. You know that you are welcome to it."
"Thank you, your Highness, but I believe we will start outside."
Vilnis tried very hard not to look relieved.
Breakfast was soon over, and the Organas headed toward their respective workplaces. Obi-Wan led Anakin outside into the gardens. The day began boringly enough exactly as Obi-Wan said it would, with basic exercises intended to shape Anakin up into peak physical condition.
When they had worked out an hour or so, they took a short break, after which they began work on slightly more interesting exercises of balance and coordination. Obi-Wan had Anakin run back and forth along the top of a low stone wall that surrounded the garden, following up with some basic gymnastics and tumbling on the lawn. Anakin particularly liked the handstands, even though he kept falling over.
By lunchtime Anakin's tunic was drenched with sweat. Alderaan was not very hot, but it was far more humid than what he accustomed to on Tatooine. He begged Obi-Wan to teach him to swim, but Obi-Wan insisted they rest first. They went inside for lunch, after which they browsed through the library, Obi-Wan pulling out a mountain of books on history, science, social studies, ethics, and half a dozen other subjects. Fortunately he didn't make Anakin read any of them right then. Anakin leafed through a coupled of them as Obi-Wan perused the shelves. He could barely understand anything on the pages, which were filled with the longest words Anakin had ever seen. He did his best to hide his dismay. Maybe some miracle would come along and rescue him from this particular aspect of Jedi training.
After the break, it was back outside for even more interesting exercises, including one where Obi-Wan tied a blindfold over Anakin's eyes and proceeded to throw a series of small, soft balls at him, which Anakin was supposed to catch. He started out pretty well, but as more and more balls got through, he became frustrated. The balls didn't really hurt, but Anakin knew he was failing, and he didn't like that.
When one ball hit him ignominiously on the forehead, he ripped the blindfold off in frustration. "This is stupid!" he railed. "What does any of this have to do with being a Jedi?"
Obi-Wan met his frustration with a placid expression that only irritated Anakin further. "It's how you learn," he explained, "so that one day you'll be able to do this with a lightsaber and blaster bolts."
The mention of a saber gave Anakin pause, though he was not entirely appeased. "When do I get to use a lightsaber?"
"Not for a while yet."
"I bet you were using one when you were my age," Anakin grumbled.
Obi-Wan hesitated, then confessed, "Yes, but only a training one."
Refusing to be mollified, Anakin said, "Bet you were doing it since you were five."
"Eight, actually."
"So that means I'll get to use a saber
when I'm, what, fifteen?"
Obi-Wan sighed, "Ani—"
"Don't call me that!" the boy thundered, clenching his fists at his sides.
Startled, Obi-Wan stared wide-eyed at his Padawan. Such a display of temper was never tolerated at the Temple, but he sensed that to correct Anakin would only anger him further. It didn't seem right to allow Anakin's behavior to go uncorrected, but he had to make allowances for the fact that the boy had not been raised according to Jedi philosophy. Perhaps now was a good time to start. "Anger is not necessary, Anakin. You have only to ask."
Ashamed of himself, but still angry, Anakin folded his arms across his chest and looked down at the toes of his boots. "Please don't call me that," he mumbled.
"Very well, I will not," Obi-Wan answered gently. "You must learn to control your temper, Anakin. Outbursts like that only cloud your judgment and anger the people around you."
Did that mean Obi-Wan was angry? It didn't sound like it, but then Jedi had an infuriating way of never showing their emotions. So he would just have to learn how to be a stone, how to swallow everything and bury it deep down inside himself, never letting anyone know how he really felt. Suddenly Anakin felt very tired. His first day of training, and already he was failing at everything. He wondered what his mother was doing right now. She was so far away, and he didn't even know what time it was on Tatooine. Maybe she was asleep, dreaming of him.
Anakin's nose began to itch, and his vision blurred. Angry with himself, he clenched his jaw so hard his teeth ached. He was not going to cry.
A warm hand rested on his shoulder, and Obi-Wan knelt before him, though Anakin refused to look up. "Enough physical training for one day," Obi-Wan said. "I'm going to teach you how to meditate. It will help you deal with your feelings."
Well, that sounded helpful at least. With a sniff, Anakin looked up. Obi-Wan regarded him quite kindly, and Anakin was – almost—reminded of Qui-Gon. If only Obi-Wan would smile, then he would look very much like Qui-Gon indeed.
Obi-Wan settled into a kneeling position in the grass, and Anakin did the same, facing him. "Meditation is very much at the heart of what it means to be a Jedi," Obi-Wan explained, "more than using a lightsaber or manipulating things with the Force. Meditation is what grounds us and connects us to the Force, and through it, everything in the universe." With gentle hands, Obi-Wan corrected Anakin's posture while explaining to him how to breathe and still his thoughts. It seemed strange to Anakin to have to learn to breathe again, but for once he was willing to listen, if only because Obi-Wan was being almost nice to him.
They practiced breathing for a few minutes, then Obi-Wan gestured for Anakin to sit between his knees. As he wrapped his arms around Anakin, Obi-Wan said, "This is how I was taught to meditate, when I was quite a bit younger than five. I had trouble sitting still and focusing, so the meditation master would hold me and guide me through the exercise."
Anakin had a hard time believing Obi-Wan had ever once been fidgety. Maybe he was only saying it to make Anakin feel better. Still, it was a nice gesture, and Anakin relaxed into Obi-Wan's arms, feeling safe, surrounded, secure. It felt almost like when his mother held him, and for once the thought of her did not cause his heart to seize up.
"Now, calm your thoughts, and open yourself to the Force," Obi-Wan instructed.
Anakin obeyed, but first he whispered a mental plea – to the Force, or whatever out there might listen to him. Please, please let him like me. Then he let that thought go, along with all other thoughts, and waited, listening for a reply.
The silence and stillness took on a texture, velvety soft, but strong. Peace, and a sense of well-being so strong Anakin had never felt anything like it before in his life. Contentment. Maybe not exactly happiness, but a feeling that everything would be all right. Maybe not quite love, but a sense that he would be cared for. Maybe not his heart's desire, but more than most people ever had in their entire lifetime.
Around the margins of his mind, Anakin could sense dark things – his anger and fear, and visions that he did not want to see, hidden nightmares too foul even for his dreams. But those dark things could not penetrate the shroud of peace in which the Force had enveloped him. In here he was safe, and no harm would come to him.
For an eternity of bliss, Anakin floated in that sense of calm. Then a voice called to him. Not his mother, not Qui-Gon, but Obi-Wan, calling out to him in the peaceful night. Anakin turned and willingly flew toward that voice, finally opening his eyes.
"You did very well," Obi-Wan was telling him. "I'm impressed."
Anakin smiled. "I liked it."
"Good, because from now on it will be part of our daily routine. In the meantime, I think it's time for another break. Why don't you go explore the house? I'm sure you will find plenty of things to amuse you."
Anakin hesitated, wishing that Obi-Wan would offer to go with him. "What will you do?" he asked.
"I need to work on a course of study for you."
Anakin made a face. That didn't sound too good.
Stifling his amusement at Anakin's displeasure, Obi-Wan said, "Go on, now. You can tell me what you've found at dinner."
This statement intrigued Anakin, suggesting that there might be something worth finding: rooms full of treasure, perhaps, or secret passageways. With the prospect of discovery lighting his eyes, Anakin bounded to his feet and raced toward the house, shouting back over his shoulder, "See you later, Obi-Wan!"
Obi-Wan sat on the grass, staring after Anakin long after the boy had disappeared into the house. All in all he felt their first day of training had gone well. Anakin had tremendous talent. That much had been clear from the beginning. And he was eager to learn, even if he sometimes grew impatient with the form his lessons took. Remembering the boy's dismay in the library, Obi-Wan sighed, shaking his head. Not only did Anakin have to start at square one with Jedi training, he would also have to do so with academic training. Obi-Wan wearily rubbed at his eyes. They had such a long way to go.
Yet he had enjoyed himself today. Maybe it was good for them to start with such basic lessons, since Obi-Wan was still a novice knight himself. He had always enjoyed teaching. While he could be incredibly impatient with himself, he had infinite patience when it came to younger students. And the task of training Anakin had kept him occupied, distracting him from the soul-crushing grief that was constantly threatening to overcome him. If he hadn't had Anakin to focus his attention, he might indeed have been overcome, so perhaps it was a good thing that he had a padawan thrust upon him right now.
And there was something else. When he had guided Anakin in the meditation, holding the boy's tiny body, he had felt a bond for the first time. It was not a new bond. When Qui-Gon had died, the bond he shared with his Master for half his lifetime had been abruptly severed. It still existed in his mind, but one end flapped loosely, like an unsecured rope in a strong wind. It whipped and stung Obi-Wan's mind, and he did not know how to secure it, but in their meditation, the loose end of the bond finally found a place to attach itself. Qui-Gon was dead, but Obi-Wan could feed his old, bleeding bond to Anakin, pouring into the boy all the love and respect and friendship he had felt for his Master. Well, maybe not all. He still resented Anakin for the interest Qui-Gon had taken in him. Their bond was by no means strong yet, but to Obi-Wan's relief it did exist. He had been worried about how he could form a bond with Anakin at all, still harboring his resentment against the boy as he did. Obi-Wan had never heard of a bond forming this way, an old, severed bond finding purchase with someone new, but perhaps it was another of Qui-Gon's legacies to him. To them both.
With a small sigh, Obi-Wan stood, brushing loose bits of grass from his knees. He looked up into the brilliant blue sky, as vibrant as his master's eyes. Qui-Gon was part of the Force now, but Obi-Wan could still feel him, as close as the Force itself. Not in a tangible way, not in a personal way, but he swore he could feel his master's warmth and strength as surely as he could feel the sun on his skin. I will not fail you, he whispered silently to the Qui-Gon-blue sky. He would honor his master's dying request. No matter how much it cost him.