AUTHOR: agentj
STATUS: incomplete
CATEGORY: Drama: Angst, POV (Obi-Wan Kenobi)
CHARACTERS: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, Qui-Gon Jinn, Yoda (minor), Bail Organa (minor)
TIMELINE: Saga: Inter-trilogy
CONTENT WARNING: none
SUMMARY: Obi-Wan begins a new life on Tatooine. He reflects on the past and the path the Force has lead him.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: For this story, the only "canon" is from the movies, so leave your copies of Jedi Apprentice and Jedi Quest behind!
DISCLAIMER: I willingly and willfully use characters and situations copyrighted by Twentieth Century Fox and Lucasfilm Ltd. without permission, and without monetary gain. Additional characters and situations are copyright 2005 Lisa D. Jenkins.
Watch our history unravel thread by thread
Watch us all go down in the end
What will become of what never was
It's the story of us
—Sarah Fimm
PART 1 - Fate of Luck
The stars streaked by silently in the front viewport as I stood on the command deck and stoically watched the skeleton crew of Tantive IV as they went about their business as if nothing had changed, as if their universe hadn't suddenly tilted and spun out of control, torn apart at the seams. Perhaps in a way, it hadn't. Certainly not like mine had. Outwardly, I remained the centre of calm, a proper Jedi Master. Inwardly, however...I was a tumultuous storm, a raging sea of doubt, a blistering sandstorm of confusion. Only one other could have known the truth of my mental state, and presently he was distracted by other obligations.
Behind me, Master Yoda cooed and spoke soothingly in his native tongue to the boy-child, barely a few hours old. The babe had woken fussy and in terrible distress upon our departure from Polis Massa. Through the Force, the boy had felt the pain of death—the loss of his mother.
I looked back, seeing Yoda at total ease with the newborn boy as he tried to gently rock him back to sleep. Yoda sang a lullaby in his own dialect, one I had heard him sing many times to the children in the nursery. For some unfathomable reason, Master Yoda always spoke his own language to the little ones. As soon as they were capable of speech, however, he would switch back to his stilted Basic. Equally as strange, none of the younglings—including myself—had ever learned his language. Come to think of it, I never even learned Yoda's origins nor his species. Some things best kept in mystery, are they, Yoda would say.
The boy settled back into slumber, and Yoda turned to me. Quietly, he whispered, "Take him now, you should," and lifted Luke's tiny frame up to me.
I reached down and ever so gently lifted the babe from Yoda's arms. Thankfully, Luke didn't re-awaken. Although I had spent many obligatory hours in the crèche as a padawan, I had never felt comfortable as a sole caretaker of younglings.
Yoda had felt my unease—in more than just my child-rearing abilities. "Release him, you must," Yoda spoke in that double-edged meaning of his. "Release your doubts, Obi-Wan."
I almost opened my mouth to say, I'll try, but instantly realised how foolish it would be to tell my nearly nine-hundred-year-old master the half-hearted attempts of trial. Do or do not, his lessons of childhood rang in my ears, There is no try.
Instead, I looked down into the restful face of the new life carefully tucked into my arms. How many things rested on the survival of this tiny being! Words of prophecy, destiny and fate swirled through my head. What path would the Force lead this boy?
My eyes wandered to the bassinet where the boy's sister lay. Unlike her brother, Leia slept soundly. Born in a moment of her mother's clarity, perhaps the girl made a connection with her mother that would last her a lifetime of comfort.
I looked again upon the slumbering form of my newest charge.
Soft whispers of light clung to the baby like morning dew on the blades of Praesitlyn grass. Already his Force signature was strong—as strong as his father's once been.
I clamped down on my thoughts, not allowing my mind to wander into the corridors of the past. Keep your concentration here and now, Qui-Gon had spoken to me on our last mission together. Be mindful of the Living Force.
Bail Organa moved beside me to look at the boy in my arms. "It is sad—they will never know the brave and noble woman their mother was," he spoke in reverent tones.
I nodded in silent agreement.
Looking to Master Yoda, Bail announced, "We're entering orbit around Naboo. I've already contacted Senator Amidala's family. They will be waiting."
"Reason, gave you, the senator's death?" asked Yoda.
Bail nodded. "Complications in childbirth. They...they were surprised."
"Did they ask who the father was?" I questioned, looking directly at Bail.
He shook his head this time. His dark features were pierced with a pensive frown. "No. I think—I think they knew..."
I diverted my eyes, casting my gaze again on the babe in my arms to hide the flash of anguish that surely must have escaped me. I—this boy's father's best friend and mentor, who had fought and laboured shoulder-to-shoulder with the man who gave him life, who had been a good and dear friend of Padmé Naberrie Amidala since the death of my own mentor Qui-Gon Jinn—I had remained ignorant of my padawan's desires. Yet the senator's parents, who had spent only one day with my wayward padawan, had seen the truth that lay in his heart. And I had known nothing.
No, that was not true.
I knew. I had always known.
Like my grief at Qui-Gon's passing, like my seething anguish at the betrayal of my now-lost padawan, I simply did not face it. Hiding it away from myself, I let it pass between us like all those moments in time when I could have reached out my hand, told him how I felt about our bond, our friendship, the brotherhood that we had always shared. Now those moments had forever evaporated, caught in the whirlwind of the past that would never be.
I felt the reassuring touch of Bail's hand upon my shoulder which brought me back to the here and now and the duties yet remaining. Yoda retrieved Leia, and I followed my master down the corridor into a small crew's quarters. Here we would remain sequestered while the senator's body would be taken to her family and a public funerary procession would allow Naboo's grieving peoples to pay their last respects to their beloved public figure.
I laid Luke beside his sister Leia in the bassinet and turned back to Bail. "Wait. I have something for Padmé..."
Master Yoda looked curiously up at me, but said nothing as I retrieved a wooden pendant tied to a long silver chain from my tunics. Handing it to Bail, I said, "She gave this to me when..." My voice caught in my throat.
"Important to her, it must have been," Yoda spoke the words I could not.
Bail held out his hand. The chain pooled in his palm as I placed the wooden pendant there. "I...will be sure she is buried with it," Bail responded. He clasped the pendant and departed.
Numbly, I watched Master Yoda tuck the slumbering children in to their blankets. I yearned to sneak out of the ship and trace my way along the rooftops to the cavalcade to whisper my final good-byes to the woman who had brought a glimmer of happiness to the sad life of Anakin Skywalker.
At the thought of his name, I shuddered.
With crystalline realisation, I knew the risk would be too great. I would remain aboard with Master Yoda.
"Come," my master instructed. "Sit and meditate with me, you should."
I gathered my cloak about me, the edges singed and still smelling of sulfur. I sat on the floor across from Yoda, placing my palms outward from my knees. Taking a deep breath, I tried to push aside the anxiety welling inside of me, threatening to overcome my stoic veneer. As soon as I closed my eyes, however, visions of scalding red and flashes of iridescent blue against the blackest night replayed before me.
Sensing my difficulty in finding focus, Master Yoda laid his taloned hands on my knees. Through the Force, I felt calming waves caressing over me, easing my pain until I was able to find the thread that flowed through me to centre my thoughts.
"Clear your mind," Yoda counseled. "Remove all thoughts. Singular the Moment of Now is."
I breathed deeply, bringing myself to a meditative state with practiced ease.
"In time, clarity you will attain. Feel the presence of one once thought long gone..."
Obi-Wan paced the short length of his assigned cabin. His reckless decision to join Qui-Gon on the mission despite his master's instructions to stay at the Temple with Yoda and the younglings had been rash and for naught. Now his master was sending Obi-Wan back to the Temple empty-handed and alone. Obi-Wan knew he would be severely reprimanded; perhaps Qui-Gon would even go so far as to drag him before the Council and demand a new padawan because of his careless disobedience. Kenobi, how could you have been so foolish! he chided himself.
Feeling the burning need for a release, Obi-Wan left his cabin for the spaciousness of the hold. Obi-Wan activated his sabre and went through several basic katas, losing himself in the dance. His young body twisted and twirled, the sabre's blade sizzling and humming as it spun and wove patterns of light in the air.
With a crackle of energy, Obi-Wan felt his arm jar with the blow of another blade against his. His head jerked up in surprise at the green blade hissing across his. Qui-Gon's piercing blue gaze looked down upon him stoically, waiting for Obi-Wan's shock and surprise to pass.
Obi-Wan recovered quickly and took a step back from the imposing figure. Placing himself in Position I, Obi-Wan waited for the master's next move.
It came swiftly, but not so powerfully as he initially expected. Qui-Gon's strength as a sabre master was knowing his opponent. Obi-Wan was a forceful fighter, and frequently put all his strength behind every blow. This was tiring, exhausting sabre play. With very little effort of his own, Qui-Gon quickly demonstrated Obi-Wan's weakness, and soon the young Jedi was panting, spent from the effort.
"Remember," Qui-Gon deactivated his blade and hooked it back to his belt, "there is a time to put your strength behind the effort, and a time to hold back."
Obi-Wan's head bent in supplication. He knew the master was chastising him on more than his sabre technique. "Yes, Master," he acquiesced as he, too, returned his sabre to his belt.
The older man regarded the younger silently. Qui-Gon noted the boy's eagerness and curiosity being kept in check by his humility and embarrassment. Yoda had been right—Obi-Wan needed a mentor who would curb his tendency for reckless things. And he was a master who needed a padawan to teach him humility.
"Come," Qui-Gon moved past Obi-Wan toward the sleeping quarters. "Meditate with me."
Questions rippled on the edge of Obi-Wan's thoughts. What had prompted Qui-Gon's return? Would he defend Obi-Wan's actions before the Council, or condemn him? Did Qui-Gon think Obi-Wan incapable of following his direction, unable to trust him to return to the Temple on his own and face the consequences?
Obi-Wan spoke none of these things seething beneath the surface. Instead, he quietly followed the Jedi Master back to his cabin and proceeded to kneel beside the towering man in meditation.
"No." Qui-Gon's powerful voice commanded, stopping Obi-Wan. "Across from me."
Half-bent with one knee to the floor, Obi-Wan looked up with surprise, but moved to position himself across from Qui-Gon as instructed. In the small space barely meant for one, the knees of the two men touched. Qui-Gon's eyes were already closed. Obi-Wan focused his mind and did the same.
Feeling the energy of Obi-Wan's mind quiet, Qui-Gon reopened his eyes. After reprimanding the boy and sending him away, Qui-Gon realised his own stubborn nature was blinding him to the truth. Despite the young man's impetuousness, he had been a great asset to Qui-Gon on the mission.
Qui-Gon regarded his wayward padawan silently. He came to a decision.
Reaching out his hand, Qui-Gon pulled Obi-Wan's padawan braid from behind his right ear. At his master's touch, Obi-Wan's eyes flew open. The master's eyes were focused on his task of unplaiting Obi-Wan's braid. Tears welled in the boy's eyes, but he did not allow them to fall. Obi-Wan decided even if he would not be Qui-Gon's padawan, he would still be a Jedi.
"Do you remember the significance of the padawan braid?" Qui-Gon asked.
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan's voice sputtered as he answered automatically. "It signifies the entertwining of all life with the Force. The symbiotic relationship we share with it."
"And with each other," the master reminded his padawan as his deep blue eyes flickered up to meet those of the boy's. The older man's mouth remained firmly set in a straight line.
Obi-Wan lowered his eyes, unable to continue to meet his master's.
Qui-Gon retrieved a knife from his boot and reached back into his flowing chestnut hair. With a swift swipe of the knife's blade, a small pinch of his tresses came away into his hand.
Replacing his knife, he spun the strands between his fingers, twisting it into a small rope. Taking his padawan's long unbraided strands, Qui-Gon placed his cut hair next to the others and interwove them.
Obi-Wan swallowed to hold back the fluttering in his belly. He stared at Qui-Gon disbelievingly as the master replaited the braid and tied off the ends.
Without a word spoken between them, Obi-Wan understood Qui-Gon accepted him unconditionally as his padawan. Mistakes may be made by both parties, but no amount of reckless disobedience on Obi-Wan's part would make Qui-Gon shirk his responsibility in teaching him the ways of the Force.
Qui-Gon looked into the boy's eyes, a slight grin tugging at his lips as his eyes twinkled in amusement. Obi-Wan gasped, unaware he had been holding his breath, when Qui-Gon's palm touched the boy's cheek to stop a tear that had escaped his eye.
"It was not happenstance," he spoke quietly with great gentleness, "when we met that fateful day in the Temple's Great Hall, and I took you as my padawan. I certainly can't say I was ignorant of your obstinate nature!"
With that, they both smiled and shared a light-hearted chuckle. Qui-Gon reached out his capacious hands and placed them on Obi-Wan's slim shoulders.
I gasped and shuddered. For a passing moment, I had felt the gentle pressure of my former master's hands upon my shoulders. The lingering brush of his presence through the Force remained with me like a trickle of water from a cool stream.
Looking down upon Yoda's countenance, I saw a peaceful smile upon his lips. Without opening his eyes, he informed me, "In time, your master's voice you will hear once again. Guide you, Qui-Gon will, in the ways of the Living Force, to complete your training."
I nodded absently, still carried in the buoyancy of a comforting crest of fleeting contentedness.