……hi.

I used to be big whatever over at final fantasy X… a long time ago. Thus, I haven't written any fanfiction. In about 3 years. I was going over my old stories… and was like aaahh. I used to write, before college and art and boyfriends and band and sororities and stuff.

And I read all of your reviews… and was like aww. I just left them… hanging. :( So… this is for you.  I might be a little rusty…

Chap 3

Dusk had fallen upon the jedi enclave. The world's people did not slow or tire, but only grew excited at the night as gamblers went out, police prepared for romps and the fun began.

Or so it seemed for many, but not for Obi-Wan. He sat alone in darkness, his body resting uncomfortably against the aged stone. Blessedly, his wound no longer throbbed. And amazingly, his heart no longer ached. He was cold, oh so cold. He tried to think. It was hard, like his mind had turned to jelly. He didn't even know if his shields were still intact. How long had he been here? He blinked.

And realized that the thought had more meaning than the obvious.

How long had he been here? In this existence of nothing but remorse, of hoping, wanting. But… never satisfied.

Was it in the code to /be/ satisfied? He certainly wasn't at peace. And if he couldn't be at peace, how could he become a jedi? To be a Jedi Knight. It was what he wanted. It was what he always wanted. And as he sat in the cold of night, alone and wounded he asked himself… is it still what he wanted? He sucked in a cold breath, the air freezing his throat.

He wanted to bring peace. He wanted people to be safe. To live in peace. And… he wanted people to never… /never/ feel whatever it was he was feeling now. So, yes, he still wanted to be a knight. But he wasn't going to survive to knighthood at this rate. He groaned, moving for the first time in an hour or so and touched the wound that marred his side. It was numbed with cold – a blessing. He furrowed his brow and wondered what would happen if he could just numb his mind, his soul.

It seemed to be snowing harder now. Tilting his head, Obi-Wan decided that he'd had enough, and ignoring the spasm of pain, he crept out of his safe hole. The snow fell silently, covering the garden in ice.

"Where IS he?" Mace hissed, his robes swishing behind him as he strode quickly beside Master Tahl. The padawans had all convened in the lobby, whispering amongst each other in semi orderly lines. Qui-Gon met Windu and Tahl at the center, his face lined with worry. The open doorway to the gardens allowed some of the frigid air past the invisible heat fields, denoting the severity of the storm that raged outside. Windu shivered.

"Anything?" He asked, though the answer was obvious since there was no Obi-Wan and an irritated Mace.

"Nothing. I have looked /everywhere/. I don't know what you've been teaching that boy about force shielding himself and this thoughts, but it is impressive," the dark skinned Jedi fumed, his eyes scanning the children in the hall.

"Young Obi-Wan has learnt much, he has," a soft voice filled the air. Silence immediately fell, and on the sound of a wooden cane and claws hitting floor could be heard. Heads turned as the elderly master came into view, a young blond padawan following meekly behind. The pair came to stop before the elder Jedi. The young boy looked nervous, and Yoda prodded him gently with his cane. The boy swallowed, and stepped before Qui-Gon. His young mouth opened to speak, and at first no sound came out. Behind the masters, Kinah and Bruck shoved their way to the front of the line, and both eyes widened at the sight of the boy.

"M-masters," he squeeked before clearing his throat, "I was the one who broke the vase. N-not padawan Obi."

The boy stepped back beside Yoda and bowed his head. Qui-Gon stared in stunned silence while Mace stepped forward.

"I see. Padawan Benek, why did you break it?" The master inquired, dropping to a knee and eye level of the boy.

Benek's blue eyes wavered, catching the glance of Kirah as she stood behind the masters, her eyes flaring in rage. Benek swallowed and faltered, "I-I uh, it was an accident, and I didn't want to get in trouble- I'm sorry master Windu!" The boy took a step backwards, but ran into Yoda's cane and fell, falling unceremoniously to the smooth floor. He looked up, tears brimming. Yoda's large and wise eyes gazed downward, and narrowed at the boy.

"Blame Padawan Kenobi, you did."

"Why?" Qui-Gon asked softly.

Benek's tears escaped and fled down his round face. "I-I-"

Kinah stepped forward, grabbing her master's hand and used the movement to attract Beneks attention. She scowled, her eyes full of malice and warning.

"It was an accident! I didn't mean to do it! But my master – he would've been angry! And, and it was his birthday and I didn't want to ruin it and-"

"Enough," Yoda sighed, and turned away from the boy. "Master Dran, please come get your padawan."

The dark bearded Onderonian stepped forward from the masters, and gathered up his crying padawan. The small green master watched as Qui-Gon swallowed. "Master Qui-Gon, find your padawan we must. Due is his praise for excellent mental shielding," Yoda stated, eyebrow rising. Qui-Gon opened his mouth to speak when-

"I'm here, masters."

The storm blew snow into the large room as the heat shield broke to allow a young boy to stand at the entrance. His hair was tousled, his padawan braid half frozen. His side was charred, though snow covered like the rest of him. He was silhouetted, his face hid in darkness.

Qui-Gon stepped forward, past Kinah and the others.

"Padawan…"

Obi-Wan didn't move.

Kinah grabbed Tahl's hand, eyes narrowed at the padawan boy.

"To the healers, you shall go young Obi-Wan," Yoda said, clicking as he made his way towards the doorway.

"Yes, master," the boy replied tonelessly and began to walk towards the onlookers. Tahl glanced to Qui-Gon, who met her gaze. Concern colored his features as he moved to grasp his padawan by the boys uninjured side, but Obi-Wan continued past, brushing off the gesture and right on into the temple, wound and all. Qui-Gon stared after him.

Yoda cleared his throat. "Time for meditation, it is. Return to your masters and room now, you will," he said gravely, his ears dipping ever so slightly. The padawans dispersed.

"Master-" Kinah asked softly, "Would it be alright if I talk to my brother for a bit?"

"Of course padawan. But be home within the hour and no later," Talh replied.

Kinah immediately made for the darkened corridors, where Bruck was waiting.

"Little fool Benek!" Bruck spat as she approached.

"Shh, wait until they're gone."

Bruck crossed his arms and scowled, watching the younger children disappear into the temple halls. As the lights dimmed, he turned to his sister.

"You're lucky he didn't tell the truth."

She snorted. "If he had, he knew it would be the end of him. Ugh! I can't believe we hung out with that stupid Benek, hes as bad as Obi-Perfect." She began down the corridor, Bruck following with a lazy saunter. "What Master Qui-Gon sees in him, I'll never know. Looser."

"Just wait til next week," Bruck sneered. "It'll be time for the monthly duel. And believe me sis… we'll beat him. We'll beat him."

The healers office was not busy, as Obi-Wan was its only patient. He lay on a gray cot, his robes in disarray as bacta was applied and refreshed every half hour by a monitor. He lay with his head lying straight, his eyes closed. Qui-Gon took the opportunity to study his padawan. The boy's chest was exposed to administer the bacta, and the master was intrigued by the play of newly formed muscles that lined his shoulders and arms. The wound was covered by healing machinery, but ugly bruising radiated outwards and hinted at the injury.

Qui-Gon suppressed a shudder, when he thought about his actions. Wounding his padawan was just… what had happened was unfathomable. Almost as painful as knowing that for one, his padawan had indeed been innocent but two, that the master hadn't known or read through the bond. Granted, his padawan's shields were extremely effective, and now noticed by master Yoda himself. His shields…

Gently, Qui-Gon opened his mind and sent a small tendril probe through their bond. It grazed through the master to Obi-Wan, but even as the padawan rested, the probe ran headlong into a rock-solid boundary that marked Obi-Wan's mind. Somewhat irritated, Qui-Gon tried again with a stronger pulse – and again met failure.

/Padawan/ Qui-Gon sent.

No response.

The doorway to the medical room slid open with a hiss to reveal Tahl.

"How is he?" She inquired, taking the pro-offered hand and sitting beside Qui-Gon.

"He'll be alright. The blade… it bit into his ribs a little. It wasn't severe enough for a full bacta tank, but…"

Tahl nodded. "I understand. I am glad he is to be well again soon." Qui-Gon gave a soft sigh.

"I must return now, Kinah will be back shortly and I wish to meditate with her upon today. Do you wish to join us for tea? Perhaps it will ease you."

Qui-Gon smiled. "Indeed. I wish to speak to Kinah as well, perhaps we can rebuild her vase or make a new one."

Tahl stood, and left the quarters without so much as a goodbye to Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon followed her, after all, his padawan slept soundly and wouldn't notice his absence. A few hours with Tahl and Kinah couldn't hurt. He would have time to meditate on the day later.

As the masters left, Obi-Wan lifted one eyelid, staring at the closing door without expression.