"I served with your father in the Clone Wars."

The lie that years ago would have lodged in the back of his throat like spoilt meat slid neatly off his tongue that day. The boy would never know, the only being remaining that could reveal the truth was light years away and Obi-Wan doubted very much that Yoda would reveal him. He watched the light in the boy's eyes grow bright with excitement, a light that had died in his own before this child had been born.

It was an acceptable planet, Tatooine. In time he would grow to think it beautiful. Dry, with oceans of sand instead of water. Clean of pathetic life forms.

It was beautiful name, Ben. In time he would learn not to hesitate before responding when it was issued from lips that he hadn't kissed.


The air displaced by the cargo ship blew past his face hot and moist with the scent of fuel. His attention was focused on the braid of hair secured around his wrist and he did not feel the small, green creature come up behind him.

"Parted they should not be, a Jedi and his light-saber."

He stiffened at the gravelly voice, but turned and accepted the hilt resting on the three clawed hand.

"May the Force be with you."

He bowed deeply to the Master of his Master and walked up the ramp. It was the walk of a man who will never return to where he is leaving.


Obi-Wan's jaw clenched after Yoda's announcement. "I will take no new Master." His voice, though calm, was as sharp as shattered glass.

"Made clear you position has been, Obi-Wan."

"And just as clear is the Council's position," Mace continued, "You will continue your training under a new Master."

"No." Obi-Wan's voice faltered, but he continued. "My Master is dead and I will take no other in his place."

"There is no death," Yoda began, "only the…"

"Only the Force?" Obi-Wan interrupted with a harsh laugh, "Where was the Force when my Master lay dying in my arms? Where was the Force when it should have taken his body into itself instead of leaving him for the pyre?" Obi-Wan's eyes were full of tears now and he could no longer shove words past the choking constriction in his throat.

"What you say, believe you do not."

"That doesn't matter."

Yoda moved to approach the shaking man, but Obi-Wan stepped back quickly and before anyone could think to stop him, ignited his light-saber with a snap-hiss. He grabbed the end of his braid in one hand and quickly tore through it with the blade. He dropped his saber to the floor, where it hit with a loud clatter in the unnaturally quiet chamber, and turned on his heel, ignoring demands that he stop as he walked out of the Council chamber for the last time.


He was dreaming.

"Ben."

He is practicing with his light saber, frustrated that he can't complete a simple move and Qui-Gon is smiling.

"Come rest, Ben. You are blind to the Force in this state."

He doesn't know why his Master is calling him by that name, but Qui-Gon beckons and he stops caring. They are lying in their bed, Obi-Wan supporting himself over his Master with one arm.

"Kiss me, Master."

Qui-Gon reaches up with his hand, fingers tugging on Obi-Wan's braid, pulling him down closer. But the sheets are gone and the bed is as cold as a metal floor, and Qui-Gon's hand is falling slowly away from him and he smells blood.

It was not an unfamiliar dream.


Yoda's gravelly voice was gentle, "To complete your training, assigned to you a new Master will be."

"No."

Mace Windu's eyes narrowed as Obi-Wan spoke firmly, "It is the will of the Council, Padawan Kenobi."

"I will take no other Master."

"You must." The diminutive Master interjected sharply before Windu could respond. He tottered closer to Obi-Wan, "Incomplete your training is."

"It is as complete as it shall be. I will take no other Master."

Yoda sighed, his cane clicking as he returned to his seat. When he turned back to Obi-Wan his face was solemn.

"Dismissed you are, Padawan. Recalled you shall be, after a decision the Council has made."

Obi-Wan bowed low, the tip of his braid caressing the polished floor.


His blade cut through air and cloth and flesh without resistance. The salt taste of satisfaction filled his mouth and he felt as if he was a hundred feet tall in that moment. In the next, he was smaller than he had ever or would ever be again. His hands were too small to hold all of Qui-Gon's blood in his body, his command of the Force too weak to keep his Master from slipping deeper into its final hold.

Qui-Gon's eyes moved slowly over his face. His hand reached up to finger the long braid he had first tied off all those years ago leaving streaks of red. He coughed; a tearing, liquid sound.

His fingers caressed his Padawan's face one last time.

"Kiss me, Obi-Wan."