Chapter 17: Remnants

Obi-Wan's heavy eyelids lifted slowly. They were gritty and itchy, as if they'd been rubbed with sand, and his face felt swollen, too warm, especially the area around his eyes. His head and throat ached, as did the inner passages of his nose, and he felt sticky and spent, his mouth dry and yearning for moisture, throat clogged with mucus. Force, what had happened that left him feeling so utterly worn out? He couldn't remember a more uncomfortable waking.

Yet in another way, he couldn't remember a time that he'd felt more comfortable, more at peace. He was warm, secure, and for the first time in what had to be forever, there was no sense of pressure lurking in his chest. Nothing was hiding from his surface thoughts like a leviathan in the deeps. Everything was in the open now, and though it surrounded him in a mist of sadness and loss, it didn't burden him anymore, didn't weight him to the floor and suffocate him in its thick folds.

The warmth about him shifted slightly. "Obi-Wan?" The voice held the same warmth, rumbling in his ear, enveloping him in its gentle regard.

Obi-Wan's head felt too heavy to lift, so he just nestled it a little more firmly against the soft fabric that caressed his cheek. "'M all right," he murmured, his voice hoarse and dry.

"Supper will be ready soon. Are you hungry?"

"Mm. A little." It wasn't exactly a lie. He felt no desire for food, no, he never did anymore, but there was a faint, teasing tense that he might be hungry sometime soon, in a not-too-distant future that was unclouded and free. Almost he felt that he could reach out and touch that time, it had been brought so near to him, this after his age-long belief that nothing would ever change, that he would always be lost and abandoned in the barrens.

Gradually Obi-Wan became a little more aware of his surroundings. His arms were immobile, folded between his body and something much larger and more solid, but he did not feel trapped. Rhythmic puffs of air, slow and gentle, stirred in his air. The warmth that surrounded him had a shape. And it had a name.

"Qui-Gon?" He whispered the name in wonder, soft and amazed. Had he ever been held like this before, supported with such patient understanding and care? He couldn't remember. Who was this man, to take him in so completely on the slender acquaintance of two and a half days, to encompass him in the safety and warmth of a home?

Large, blunt fingers carded through his hair, leaving his scalp tingling. "I'm here, little one. How are you feeling?"

Obi-Wan had to think about that one awhile. "There . . . there's something we need to do. We need to finish."

Qui-Gon's rich voice was spiced with amusement. "I think we've accomplished quite a bit, myself."

The boy smiled slowly, and the movement didn't feel quite as strange as it had earlier today, the stretching of long-unused muscles not quite as foreign and disconcerting. "Yes. We did." He tipped his head upward slightly, just enough to catch a corner of deep, sparkling blue. "I was thinking of the bond, actually."

The large chest beneath his cheek stilled for a moment, as if Qui-Gon had forgotten to breathe. "Are you certain?" he murmured, barely loud enough for the words to cross the scant distance separating mouth from ear. "Once we do this, turning back will be very painful and difficult."

"I don't plan to turn back." Obi-Wan shook his head slightly, then let it rest as he had before. "I'm ready."

He felt a kiss on his forehead, almost rough in its fervency, and the arms about him tightened. "As you wish, my Obi-Wan."

And together they fell back into their connection, and together they completed the anchoring that bound them together with cords that could not be broken.

X

That night Obi-Wan slept the sleep of the just, and when the dreams came, Qui-Gon was beside him, even though he slept on in the room down the hall. Together they tried to make sense of them, and when it became too much, Qui-Gon sheltered Obi-Wan and drew him away, and the images could not follow. They were insubstantial wisps, scarves of flimsy cloth to be swept aside with the wave a hand. Qui-Gon suspected that this could not last, and the Force would have its way, would reveal what must be seen until the necessary action was taken. But for now, the respite was enough.

X

"Here, let's see this one." Julune held the tunic up to Obi-Wan's chest, and pulled the sleeve along his outstretched arm. She sighed. "No, this one is too small, too. Didn't they even give you decent clothes before you left?"

"You still haven't told me how you got hold of all my clothes," Obi-Wan said in mild confusion, watching her fold up the garment and place it on the small stack.

"Heim Shilbey came by last night. We didn't think it worthwhile to wake you." Julune inspected one of his stockings, frowning at her finger when it poked through a hole in the toe.

"But . . . why?" Obi-Wan surveyed the small pile of clothing with a wrinkled brow. "This is everything I own. And why would he stop by in the first place?"

"Everything? Little enough to show for twelve years," Julune muttered. "Come, child, it's been four days. You can't keep wearing Qui-Gon's clothes—they make you look like a waif. And you summarily rejected mine. Not that they fit you much better."

Faint color stained the youngster's cheeks. "I'm sorry. They're just . . . too . . ."

"Pink? Soft? Strangely proportioned?" Julune smiled, brushing her fingers over his heated cheek. "No worries. I understand. Now!" She shook out a cream-colored tunic. "This is a bit worn, but it will do for a trip to the market."

Obi-Wan slipped out of Qui-Gon's tunic and drew his own over his head. True, it was a bit short, but it felt nice to be back in the remnants of his old life, even though he knew he could never go back. "Market? We're going to market?"

"That's right."

"I've never been to a market before." Obi-Wan paused with his hand on his cloth belt, gaze far away, then hastily finished wrapping it around himself. "And you aren't going to work today?"

Julune smiled softly, watching the bright young eyes, so eager, delighted with this simple treat. Sometimes this boy seemed so worn and aged by burdens too large for him that she forgot how young he was, and how sheltered his life before must have been. She shook her head slightly, remembering his question. "No, no work. It's my day off."

Obi-Wan gaped briefly. "You get days off?"

Qui-Gon chuckled as he exited the kitchen, done cleaning up from breakfast. "I believe it's a Corellian invention called 'end-week,' or something like that. Very popular all over the galaxy."

"Oh." The boy's eyes were very wide and very blue.

Julune laughed merrily and tousled the reddish-sandy hair, already mussed from hasty dressing. "You'll like the market, Obi-Wan."

"Absolutely." Qui-Gon did his best to ruffle the boy's hair even more. "Why don't you just make a quick visit to the 'fresher and straighten up?"

"All right." A last, brilliant smile, and Obi-Wan disappeared into the little room.

The Jinns watched him go. "I noticed how you side-stepped his questions about Heim's visit," Qui-Gon said quietly, wrapping an arm around his wife's shoulders.

She sighed and snuggled her head against his shoulder. "I don't want to get his hopes up and then have to crush them. That would be cruel. Shilbey said that there would be a lot of details to take care of."

"It is a big step," Qui-Gon agreed, unconsciously rubbing his bristly jaw against her hair. "But I think we may need to say something to him. He needs to agree to it, too."

"He already said that he didn't want to go back. And he's—what is it—connected to you. Where else would he go?"

"I know. But . . . he said that in a moment of emotion. And if there's one thing in that boy's character, it's an overwhelming devotion to duty. What would he say now?"

"Qui-Gon . . ." Julune drew back slightly to look up into his eyes. "Are you doubting Obi-Wan, or doubting yourself?"

Qui-Gon looked abashed. "Neither."

She snorted and settled her head back against his shoulder. "You're a terrible liar, dearheart."

"Well . . . let's keep our options open."

"Yes. And we probably should wait until we're certain the Agri-Corps will let him go before we say anything. For now . . . for now, at least, he's happy."

"The happiest I've ever seen him."

Obi-Wan emerged from the refresher, a small smile teasing at his lips, hair slightly damp and freshly combed. "How's that?"

"Very nice," Julune said warmly, reaching out to straighten the shoulders of his tunic and brush away some imaginary dust. "You have such a lovely, charming smile, Obi-Wan Bandor won't know what hit it."

Obi-Wan raised a hand as if to hide his new blush, but the smile peeked around his fingers, and a small, childlike giggle bubbled briefly in the air before fading away. Julune's heart thrilled at the sound, and by the strength of Qui-Gon's grip around her shoulders, he was as deeply affected. It must have been the first time he heard it, too.

"Oh, be still my heart!" Julune half-feigned a girlish swoon, pressing the back of her hand against her forehead. "Oh, you are just too much for me, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

The giggle returned, stronger, disbelieving. "You're teasing me."

Julune sobered and lowered her hand. "Never. I could never tease such a handsome young man."

The blue-green eyes widened. "Now you're really teasing."

Julune opened her mouth to protest again, but Qui-Gon brought his lips close to her ear. "You might as well surrender now. He simply doesn't believe it. Too humble."

She pouted, folding her arms across her chest. "Too humble to believe the truth? That's taking it a bit too far, don't you think?"

Qui-Gon chuckled, pressed her close in a brief, tight hug. "Come along, now. All the best merchandise will be sold before we get there if we don't leave soon."

He drew away slightly, still keeping an arm about her, and placed his free hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Off we go now. Time for a new adventure."

And as they stepped out of the door onto the dirty, slightly-oily street under the bright morning sun, Julune decided that this was true. They were starting a journey together. She only hoped that it would be long, and full of interesting sights and side-trails, and that it would be frequently brightened by soft, sparkling laughter.