Wow, you came back for more? J These chapters are getting really long. We
may experience some delays, as both Kris and I need to study at least
somewhat. Well, thanks to everyone who reads and reviews!
The untold story Ch2
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You clear your mind of everything. You let go of all your earthly cares, and woes. Unfortunately, Obi-Wan Kenobi was unable to accomplish this feat. His thoughts dwelled on his foolish young Padawan. In his own odd way, Obi-Wan did love Anakin. He loved Anakin as he loved any fellow being. He cared for Anakin, and perhaps even thought of the younger man as a friend. As a son? No. It wasn't that he didn't want a relationship of that nature with his Padawan, it had just simply never developed. His light blue-green eyes turned cloudy with emotion as he remembered his own Apprenticeship to his former Master Qui-Gon. They had had a unique relationship, a stronger one than shared by most Master/Padawan teams. He missed Qui-Gon. In an instant he had gone from devoted Padawan to Master. When Darth Maul slew Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan had made that large leap to the oftentimes difficult occupation of Master. Obi-Wan hadn't really known Anakin, but what he had known of the child, he hadn't necessarily liked. The child was arrogant, overly confident, and a bit of a brat. Now, as a younger man, he was an unusual Padawan, to say the least. Obi-Wan hadn't really wanted to take the child as his Padawan learner. He had promised Qui-Gon, however, and couldn't go back on his word. If only Qui-Gon were with him, then perhaps things would be smoother than they were now. He missed Qui-Gon. A wave of grief welled up within him large enough to make his throat feel as though it were closed off. A slight sob forced it's way from his throat, but Obi-Wan sternly shoved his grief aside. The Council themselves hadn't allowed him time to mourn his Master's passing then, and he certainly wasn't going to break down now. He couldn't. Obi-Wan gave up on meditation. Calm was more than elusive this night. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself and shivered. Tears snaked down his face. He wiped his cheeks on the sleeve of his tunic. No, this was not the time. He pushed himself off the floor roughly, staggering a little as the blood flow resumed itself in his legs, towards the kitchen. He pulled a glass from the cabinet, and filled it from a bottle that sat next to the sink. The slightly acrid smell of the amber liquid assaulted his nostrils as he tossed the drink back. The fluid burnt a warm path down his throat, warming his insides. He welcomed the heat. Ever since that one second, that one second his world had ground to a halt, he had been so cold. He hurt. Not just physically, but emotionally, and mentally. He pushed the pain aside, just as he had pushed his grief away for the past nine years. He poured more of the alcohol into the glass. With a long suffering sigh, he shuffled back into the living room. He flopped down onto the couch, the well practiced grace of the Jedi having left him. He leaned forward, placing the glass onto the coffee table. Letting his eyes close, he let himself sink back, his dark blonde head resting against the back of the couch. Memories bounced around in his head, tangling themselves together. They meshed with his present perception of the events around him, drowning him, as he often drowned his own consciousness. He picked up his glass again, this time taking a sip of the liquid. He rarely drank in front of Anakin. He usually drank late at night. Sleep had been as elusive, as the serenity he had sought earlier. He always woke up, right after the blade of his Master's light saber cut through the body of the Sith that had killed his Master. In those moments, in the dead of the night, he would feel the rush of power in his veins. He would feel the rage, and thirst for revenge pulse hotly in him. It was intoxicating. It was amazing. In those moments, the dark side would call to him, as seductive as any lover might. It frightened him, and repulsed him, but it was irresistible. The war raged inside him. He sometimes felt that he dishonored Qui-Gon and his memory, with the anger that burned so brightly in him. He was angry with the Sith for killing Qui-Gon, and angry at Qui-Gon for dying, and saddling him with a child who he hadn't even known. Most of all he was angry with the Force, for taking the man he had so cared for from him. It was ironic; after all, what right did he have to be teaching a child about the wonders of the Force, when he himself hardly believed in it anymore? When he drank, he let go of all his feelings, and forgot everything. It allowed him to quiet that war. It made him feel less like he was being pulled in two. He finished his drink, then leaned forward his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. He had a headache. The Force rippled, without warning, but he ignored it. He just didn't care right now. He rubbed his eyes, feeling fatigued. "My young Padawan." Obi-Wan's eyes opened widely. He knew his grief was still very much with him, but this was really getting out of control. That soft voice, a deep rumble, filling his ears. He remembered the first time Qui-Gon had called him Padawan. It had been on Bandomeer. They were in a mine shaft, locked in, a bomb near them about to explode. Obi-Wan had been kidnapped, and his captors had placed a collar about his neck that would explode at the push of a button. Obi-Wan had taken the device to cause the collar to explode, intent on blowing the locked door, allowing Qui-Gon to escape before the bomb would go off. Xanatos was the one who had locked them there. Xanatos; Qui-Gon's lost Apprentice. Qui-Gon had been too frightened of losing another Apprentice to the dark side, to take another, but at that moment he had seen that Obi-Wan would even be willing to die for him, he had called out to the boy. 'No, Padawan!' Padawan.Grief welled in Obi-Wan. With a low growl, he pushed it down, tears blurred his vision. Raising his head, and reaching for his glass, Obi-Wan swiped at his eyes, and scratched at his beard. Clearing his throat, he rose, only to fall back down onto the couch. Qui-Gon, resplendent, and noble in his full Jedi robes, stood before him. His hands were tucked into his sleeves, his long, dark brown hair pulled back. His strong features, lined with age, were full of compassion. Currently, his intense gaze was full of a mixture of worry, love, and sorrow with guilt. Obi-Wan looked like a sleepwalker, as he rose, walking to stand in front of Qui-Gon. He reached out, as if he were moving to embrace the elder, deceased Jedi. Qui-Gon's eyes closed. He had been expecting this. It was rare for a Jedi to resist the call of the Force, and return to the one's they had left behind. He could feel the emotions flowing through Obi-Wan. He wanted nothing more than to hold Obi-Wan tightly, and take away all of his pain, self-doubts, and fears. He would give anything for it, but he couldn't. He could only offer comfort through his words. Obi-Wan's strong arms passed right through the Jedi's form. "Padawan." Qui-Gon murmured softly, when he saw Obi-Wan bow his head. He noticed the glass still clenched tightly in Obi-Wan's hand. "My Padawan." Qui-Gon said again, attempting to obtain the Master's attention.
"Is it really you, my Master?" Obi-Wan's voice broke. "Yes, my dear Padawan." Obi-Wan's voice sounded so childlike, it took Qui-Gon back to the time when Obi-Wan had been little more than an insecure child, rather than a man, in the prime of his life. Obi-Wan's smile was almost sickly, and when he next spoke, a high pitch of hysteria tinged his voice. "I am sorry, Master. I mean no disrespect. I just can't be too careful. After all, I might just be losing my mind," A soft bit of laughter rang in the air, "What's left of it." "Obi-Wan, remember your thirteenth birthday? I gave you a black rock, that had red streaks running through it. It was from my home planet. I found it when I was swimming in the River of Light. It was Force sensitive." Obi-Wan nodded mutely. Qui-Gon merely watched him. He felt fear course through him. What had happened to the strong, bright, unstoppable child he had raised? Obi-Wan suddenly whirled around, heading back towards the kitchen. He rinsed his glass out, still trying to let all of this sink in. He filled the glass with water, and walked back into the living room, his bare feet soundless against the floor. He sank onto the couch, sipping his water. What has happened to my Padawan? Qui-Gon thought. Have I caused him this much grief? The very thought that he could have done so much damage to his Apprentice, ripped his heart to shreds. Obi-Wan could feel his Master's eyes on him. Why was Qui-Gon back? How had he disturbed his Master? Was it his drinking? He knew it was slightly un-orthodox, but his Master, a Jedi well known for having been a rule breaker, was a fine one to lecture about rules. Was it Anakin? The boy was certainly damned trying, and beyond frustrating. "I have missed you." Obi-Wan's head shot up at these words. His eyes, the color of Kamino's oceans, softened. He smirked. "I have missed you more than you can imagine, my Master." "Oh, I don't know Padawan. I can imagine quite a lot." Obi-Wan's warm chuckle at this statement lifted some of the shadows from the incorporeal Master's heart. "I am training the boy, as you requested Master, but I feel as though I am not doing as well as you could have." The far-away look in the younger man's eyes told Qui-Gon that he was remembering his own Apprenticeship. "You are being foolish. You are doing the best that any Jedi Master can do in your situation. You went from Padawan to Master in a very short time." Obi-Wan smiled. "You are doing your best, Obi-Wan, I know. You've always done your best. Please don't give up on Anakin. He is just young. Don't give up on the Force either. Destiny can be very cruel at times." Obi-Wan shouldn't have been surprised at how easily Qui-Gon had been able to pinpoint every one of his feelings. He had missed this. He had missed Qui-Gon pointing out what he was feeling, narrowing his problems down into small parts that were easier to understand and solve. He had missed the man's compassion, and understanding. He was glad that Qui-Gon wasn't angry with him for his self doubts, but instead offered him concern and kindness. "That is no excuse, Master. I was trained to overcome any obstacle thrown in my path." Qui sternly looked at Obi's face. "It is no one's fault but mine. I should have never made you promise me to take Annie as your Padawan." Obi- Wan's eyebrows shot up at this statement. None of this was Qui-Gon's fault! It was all his. He was the one who lacked the teaching skills, and the patience required in dealing with a teen-aged boy. He was the one who had taken another's life in a fit of revenge, and hatred, and had enjoyed it. He was the one who, because of his mistakes, had been unable to help his Master, when the man had needed him most! The least he could have done for his Master was to take the boy as his Padawan learner. "If that is what you truly believe, Master." Obi-Wan said dully. If it made Qui-Gon feel better to say that he deserved part of the blame for all of his screw ups, then so be it. He could play his part in that ruse, no matter how absurd it was. Qui-Gon nodded, silently. He knew that Obi-Wan didn't truly believe his reasoning. Obi-Wan himself, felt uncomfortable in the way this conversation was beginning to shape itself. It was leading to places that he didn't want to discuss with anyone. He knew it was beginning to lead to his exhilarating brush with the dark side. He had no wish to shame his Master, and his Master's teachings with that particular revelation. He hoped that Qui-Gon would just drop their conversation. Qui-Gon must have sensed this, for he sat on a chair near Obi-Wan's and gazed at his Padawan.
"Hmm," Qui-Gon mused, thoughtfully, "Remember our mission to Gala? We ended up on Phinidar. We were sidetracked by Guerra, and Paxxie." Obi-Wan grinned. The two began to swap stories, remembering the various unique missions they had attended together. Obi-Wan honestly didn't care what they spoke of, as long as it didn't lead to his current issues. He was very thankful his Master had dropped his earlier subjects.
The sun rose, spreading fiery colors across the city skyline. It painted Obi-Wan's quarters, and it's occupants in liquid fire. It found both Master's sitting in a companionable silence that is only possible for two people who have known each other for a lifetime. Behind Obi-Wan his holovid began to beep. The annoying tone filled the silent apartment. An incensed groan came from Obi-Wan. "Damn obnoxious." His voice trailed off as he glanced over his shoulder. There he saw the strong, tanned face of his handsome Padawan, back dropped by a beautiful garden, and waterfall, courtesy of Naboo. His grumbling immediately ceased, as his eyes grew dark with anger. "What in the HELL is he still doing there? I specifically told him to drop her off, and hurry home!" He turned back to Qui-Gon, noting regret and sadness in the elder man's face. "What is it Master?" Obi-Wan knew he didn't need to ask. His heart cried out, though. He didn't want Qui-Gon to leave! "I have to go now, Obi. You have your own life to live, now." Obi- Wan Kenobi jumped up with a wordless cry, but it was too late. Qui-Gon had disappeared.
The untold story Ch2
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You clear your mind of everything. You let go of all your earthly cares, and woes. Unfortunately, Obi-Wan Kenobi was unable to accomplish this feat. His thoughts dwelled on his foolish young Padawan. In his own odd way, Obi-Wan did love Anakin. He loved Anakin as he loved any fellow being. He cared for Anakin, and perhaps even thought of the younger man as a friend. As a son? No. It wasn't that he didn't want a relationship of that nature with his Padawan, it had just simply never developed. His light blue-green eyes turned cloudy with emotion as he remembered his own Apprenticeship to his former Master Qui-Gon. They had had a unique relationship, a stronger one than shared by most Master/Padawan teams. He missed Qui-Gon. In an instant he had gone from devoted Padawan to Master. When Darth Maul slew Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan had made that large leap to the oftentimes difficult occupation of Master. Obi-Wan hadn't really known Anakin, but what he had known of the child, he hadn't necessarily liked. The child was arrogant, overly confident, and a bit of a brat. Now, as a younger man, he was an unusual Padawan, to say the least. Obi-Wan hadn't really wanted to take the child as his Padawan learner. He had promised Qui-Gon, however, and couldn't go back on his word. If only Qui-Gon were with him, then perhaps things would be smoother than they were now. He missed Qui-Gon. A wave of grief welled up within him large enough to make his throat feel as though it were closed off. A slight sob forced it's way from his throat, but Obi-Wan sternly shoved his grief aside. The Council themselves hadn't allowed him time to mourn his Master's passing then, and he certainly wasn't going to break down now. He couldn't. Obi-Wan gave up on meditation. Calm was more than elusive this night. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself and shivered. Tears snaked down his face. He wiped his cheeks on the sleeve of his tunic. No, this was not the time. He pushed himself off the floor roughly, staggering a little as the blood flow resumed itself in his legs, towards the kitchen. He pulled a glass from the cabinet, and filled it from a bottle that sat next to the sink. The slightly acrid smell of the amber liquid assaulted his nostrils as he tossed the drink back. The fluid burnt a warm path down his throat, warming his insides. He welcomed the heat. Ever since that one second, that one second his world had ground to a halt, he had been so cold. He hurt. Not just physically, but emotionally, and mentally. He pushed the pain aside, just as he had pushed his grief away for the past nine years. He poured more of the alcohol into the glass. With a long suffering sigh, he shuffled back into the living room. He flopped down onto the couch, the well practiced grace of the Jedi having left him. He leaned forward, placing the glass onto the coffee table. Letting his eyes close, he let himself sink back, his dark blonde head resting against the back of the couch. Memories bounced around in his head, tangling themselves together. They meshed with his present perception of the events around him, drowning him, as he often drowned his own consciousness. He picked up his glass again, this time taking a sip of the liquid. He rarely drank in front of Anakin. He usually drank late at night. Sleep had been as elusive, as the serenity he had sought earlier. He always woke up, right after the blade of his Master's light saber cut through the body of the Sith that had killed his Master. In those moments, in the dead of the night, he would feel the rush of power in his veins. He would feel the rage, and thirst for revenge pulse hotly in him. It was intoxicating. It was amazing. In those moments, the dark side would call to him, as seductive as any lover might. It frightened him, and repulsed him, but it was irresistible. The war raged inside him. He sometimes felt that he dishonored Qui-Gon and his memory, with the anger that burned so brightly in him. He was angry with the Sith for killing Qui-Gon, and angry at Qui-Gon for dying, and saddling him with a child who he hadn't even known. Most of all he was angry with the Force, for taking the man he had so cared for from him. It was ironic; after all, what right did he have to be teaching a child about the wonders of the Force, when he himself hardly believed in it anymore? When he drank, he let go of all his feelings, and forgot everything. It allowed him to quiet that war. It made him feel less like he was being pulled in two. He finished his drink, then leaned forward his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. He had a headache. The Force rippled, without warning, but he ignored it. He just didn't care right now. He rubbed his eyes, feeling fatigued. "My young Padawan." Obi-Wan's eyes opened widely. He knew his grief was still very much with him, but this was really getting out of control. That soft voice, a deep rumble, filling his ears. He remembered the first time Qui-Gon had called him Padawan. It had been on Bandomeer. They were in a mine shaft, locked in, a bomb near them about to explode. Obi-Wan had been kidnapped, and his captors had placed a collar about his neck that would explode at the push of a button. Obi-Wan had taken the device to cause the collar to explode, intent on blowing the locked door, allowing Qui-Gon to escape before the bomb would go off. Xanatos was the one who had locked them there. Xanatos; Qui-Gon's lost Apprentice. Qui-Gon had been too frightened of losing another Apprentice to the dark side, to take another, but at that moment he had seen that Obi-Wan would even be willing to die for him, he had called out to the boy. 'No, Padawan!' Padawan.Grief welled in Obi-Wan. With a low growl, he pushed it down, tears blurred his vision. Raising his head, and reaching for his glass, Obi-Wan swiped at his eyes, and scratched at his beard. Clearing his throat, he rose, only to fall back down onto the couch. Qui-Gon, resplendent, and noble in his full Jedi robes, stood before him. His hands were tucked into his sleeves, his long, dark brown hair pulled back. His strong features, lined with age, were full of compassion. Currently, his intense gaze was full of a mixture of worry, love, and sorrow with guilt. Obi-Wan looked like a sleepwalker, as he rose, walking to stand in front of Qui-Gon. He reached out, as if he were moving to embrace the elder, deceased Jedi. Qui-Gon's eyes closed. He had been expecting this. It was rare for a Jedi to resist the call of the Force, and return to the one's they had left behind. He could feel the emotions flowing through Obi-Wan. He wanted nothing more than to hold Obi-Wan tightly, and take away all of his pain, self-doubts, and fears. He would give anything for it, but he couldn't. He could only offer comfort through his words. Obi-Wan's strong arms passed right through the Jedi's form. "Padawan." Qui-Gon murmured softly, when he saw Obi-Wan bow his head. He noticed the glass still clenched tightly in Obi-Wan's hand. "My Padawan." Qui-Gon said again, attempting to obtain the Master's attention.
"Is it really you, my Master?" Obi-Wan's voice broke. "Yes, my dear Padawan." Obi-Wan's voice sounded so childlike, it took Qui-Gon back to the time when Obi-Wan had been little more than an insecure child, rather than a man, in the prime of his life. Obi-Wan's smile was almost sickly, and when he next spoke, a high pitch of hysteria tinged his voice. "I am sorry, Master. I mean no disrespect. I just can't be too careful. After all, I might just be losing my mind," A soft bit of laughter rang in the air, "What's left of it." "Obi-Wan, remember your thirteenth birthday? I gave you a black rock, that had red streaks running through it. It was from my home planet. I found it when I was swimming in the River of Light. It was Force sensitive." Obi-Wan nodded mutely. Qui-Gon merely watched him. He felt fear course through him. What had happened to the strong, bright, unstoppable child he had raised? Obi-Wan suddenly whirled around, heading back towards the kitchen. He rinsed his glass out, still trying to let all of this sink in. He filled the glass with water, and walked back into the living room, his bare feet soundless against the floor. He sank onto the couch, sipping his water. What has happened to my Padawan? Qui-Gon thought. Have I caused him this much grief? The very thought that he could have done so much damage to his Apprentice, ripped his heart to shreds. Obi-Wan could feel his Master's eyes on him. Why was Qui-Gon back? How had he disturbed his Master? Was it his drinking? He knew it was slightly un-orthodox, but his Master, a Jedi well known for having been a rule breaker, was a fine one to lecture about rules. Was it Anakin? The boy was certainly damned trying, and beyond frustrating. "I have missed you." Obi-Wan's head shot up at these words. His eyes, the color of Kamino's oceans, softened. He smirked. "I have missed you more than you can imagine, my Master." "Oh, I don't know Padawan. I can imagine quite a lot." Obi-Wan's warm chuckle at this statement lifted some of the shadows from the incorporeal Master's heart. "I am training the boy, as you requested Master, but I feel as though I am not doing as well as you could have." The far-away look in the younger man's eyes told Qui-Gon that he was remembering his own Apprenticeship. "You are being foolish. You are doing the best that any Jedi Master can do in your situation. You went from Padawan to Master in a very short time." Obi-Wan smiled. "You are doing your best, Obi-Wan, I know. You've always done your best. Please don't give up on Anakin. He is just young. Don't give up on the Force either. Destiny can be very cruel at times." Obi-Wan shouldn't have been surprised at how easily Qui-Gon had been able to pinpoint every one of his feelings. He had missed this. He had missed Qui-Gon pointing out what he was feeling, narrowing his problems down into small parts that were easier to understand and solve. He had missed the man's compassion, and understanding. He was glad that Qui-Gon wasn't angry with him for his self doubts, but instead offered him concern and kindness. "That is no excuse, Master. I was trained to overcome any obstacle thrown in my path." Qui sternly looked at Obi's face. "It is no one's fault but mine. I should have never made you promise me to take Annie as your Padawan." Obi- Wan's eyebrows shot up at this statement. None of this was Qui-Gon's fault! It was all his. He was the one who lacked the teaching skills, and the patience required in dealing with a teen-aged boy. He was the one who had taken another's life in a fit of revenge, and hatred, and had enjoyed it. He was the one who, because of his mistakes, had been unable to help his Master, when the man had needed him most! The least he could have done for his Master was to take the boy as his Padawan learner. "If that is what you truly believe, Master." Obi-Wan said dully. If it made Qui-Gon feel better to say that he deserved part of the blame for all of his screw ups, then so be it. He could play his part in that ruse, no matter how absurd it was. Qui-Gon nodded, silently. He knew that Obi-Wan didn't truly believe his reasoning. Obi-Wan himself, felt uncomfortable in the way this conversation was beginning to shape itself. It was leading to places that he didn't want to discuss with anyone. He knew it was beginning to lead to his exhilarating brush with the dark side. He had no wish to shame his Master, and his Master's teachings with that particular revelation. He hoped that Qui-Gon would just drop their conversation. Qui-Gon must have sensed this, for he sat on a chair near Obi-Wan's and gazed at his Padawan.
"Hmm," Qui-Gon mused, thoughtfully, "Remember our mission to Gala? We ended up on Phinidar. We were sidetracked by Guerra, and Paxxie." Obi-Wan grinned. The two began to swap stories, remembering the various unique missions they had attended together. Obi-Wan honestly didn't care what they spoke of, as long as it didn't lead to his current issues. He was very thankful his Master had dropped his earlier subjects.
The sun rose, spreading fiery colors across the city skyline. It painted Obi-Wan's quarters, and it's occupants in liquid fire. It found both Master's sitting in a companionable silence that is only possible for two people who have known each other for a lifetime. Behind Obi-Wan his holovid began to beep. The annoying tone filled the silent apartment. An incensed groan came from Obi-Wan. "Damn obnoxious." His voice trailed off as he glanced over his shoulder. There he saw the strong, tanned face of his handsome Padawan, back dropped by a beautiful garden, and waterfall, courtesy of Naboo. His grumbling immediately ceased, as his eyes grew dark with anger. "What in the HELL is he still doing there? I specifically told him to drop her off, and hurry home!" He turned back to Qui-Gon, noting regret and sadness in the elder man's face. "What is it Master?" Obi-Wan knew he didn't need to ask. His heart cried out, though. He didn't want Qui-Gon to leave! "I have to go now, Obi. You have your own life to live, now." Obi- Wan Kenobi jumped up with a wordless cry, but it was too late. Qui-Gon had disappeared.