A/N: Wow, thanks for all the reviews! You make my day, even when you hate me!
Oh, and thanks to those who asked for Julune to "pitch a fit." You definitely influenced me. I appreciate it!
Chapter 19: Claws Unsheathed
Julune hummed a little tune as she swiped her keycard at the door to their tiny, one-bedroom housing facility. The research today had progressed smoothly—at this rate all the analysis would be done before the move to Thyferra. Even better, today Qui-Gon had no doubt spoken to Obi-Wan, and everything would be settled in that arena, too. Everything was falling together.
She was pleasantly surprised to find Obi-Wan waiting to greet her at the door. His face was still, almost expressionless, as was his wont. But she was beginning to learn how to read him. His mere presence spoke volumes.
"Why, hello, sweetheart! How was your day? Oh, you're wearing your new blue tunic. Very nice. Brings out your eyes. Do I smell jili and nerf stir-fry?"
It was an even bigger surprise, but still a pleasant one, when the boy threw his arms around her waist, hiding his face against her shoulder. "'M glad to see you, Julune."
The woman was a bit startled by this action, as well as the mumbled confession, but she quickly hugged him back, instinctively ducking her head to rest against his messy locks. Obi-Wan had never been wary of her, exactly, but neither had he ever sought any kind of contact with her. As much as she enjoyed it, she was afraid to imagine what had happened to cause this abrupt change. Some kind of argument with Qui-Gon, perhaps? It didn't make any sense.
"What happened?" Julune asked, carefully stroking one hand over his narrow back.
"Got some news today," Obi-Wan half-whispered. "The Jedi want me back. Why would they want me back now? I don't understand."
Julune's heart began to drop like a pebble in a bowl of syrup. It was a dreadful sensation, and her happiness and contentment vanished in a puff of smoke, cackling maniacally at her vain attempt to grab them back. She lifted her eyes, though her chin remained pressed against that silky reddish hair, and finally noticed the brown-robed stranger who sat on her couch, in her common room, holding one of her teacups and watching her with cool, calm brown eyes. Qui-Gon stood in the doorway to the kitchen, still holding a spatula, misery in every line of his face and expression—though Julune was aware that she was probably the only one who could see it.
It was then she realized that Obi-Wan was shaking gently, his entire too-thin body possessed by tremors that reminded her unpleasantly of the terrible fever chills that had taken him not so very long ago. And suddenly there was no more room in her heart for dread or uncertainty, for it was entirely filled with rage.
Obi-Wan raised his head suddenly, his eyes wide, and stepped back slightly. She circled his shoulders with one strong arm, intent on keeping him close. But her attention was fixed on the intruder, the interloper, the thief who had stolen their peace.
"You want him back?" she asked the Jedi, very quietly and very clearly. He continued to stare at her, completely calm, and she repeated the question in a snap of fire. "You want him back? Well, you can't have him! You forfeited that claim when you abandoned this wonderful child to be torn apart by the malia!"
All three males opened their mouths as if to respond, but Julune was not to be forestalled. She wrapped her other arm around Obi-Wan's chest and pressed him back against her, distantly aware that she was now shaking, too. "You Jedi!" she spat. "You're supposed to be a beacon of light and compassion in the galaxy, but you can't take care of the most vulnerable in your own Temple! This child was suffering daily agony from uncontrollable visions that robbed him of sleep and appetite, and no one saw! How could that be? Someone must have seen. You are so noble and farsighted."
Her voice oozed sarcasm, dark and bitter. "So committed to peace and order, to the preservation of the Republic. So blind! Instead of someone taking Obi-Wan under a wing, teaching him how to understand and control his gifts, his power, in your great wisdom you decided that he was unworthy of a place among you! A child, unworthy!" She snorted in disgust. "How preposterous! Children don't have to prove their worth! They are precious for the fact of their existence!"
Obi-Wan shifted slightly, but Julune simply held him a little tighter and continued. Every word of this was true, and it was time someone said it. "And because of this grandly compassionate, wise decision, Obi-Wan almost died. He would have died if my husband had not somehow formed a bond with him. The galaxy has not treated him kindly, to say the least. And though he narrowly escaped kidnapping and death of exposure in the wasteland, he still fell seriously ill and suffered greatly in fever. Even now he tires easily, and has to fight nausea at every meal, though he's recovering.
"Your gross negligence almost killed this boy, and the wounds you have left will be slow in mending. And now you come back, so casually, so confidently, and say you want him after all?" Julune shook her head firmly, her mouth pressed in a grim line. "What conceit. No. I won't make this easy for you. We care for Obi-Wan Kenobi. We love him, we value him, and we want to keep him. You. Can't. Have. Him."
The room felt strangely empty when she finished her rant, all energy drained from the very air. But Julune held herself taut, prepared to take whatever measures were necessary to protect her Obi-Wan.
The Jedi stood slowly, carefully set the teacup on an end table, and swept into a low, deep bow. He straightened and looked back into her eyes, his gaze still maddeningly calm. "Mistress, I apologize. I did not come to threaten you, but to make amends, and to provide an opportunity. You're right. Obi-Wan Kenobi has been neglected and overlooked, and I can cite only ignorance as an explanation. It is no excuse. On the behalf of the Jedi Order, I offer our deepest regrets."
His deep brown gaze switched to the boy. "It was not my intention to cause you further pain with this visit. I am sorry." He bowed again, his sleeves brushing the floor. "If you choose to come with me now, we will do everything in our power to set this right. You will be taught to understand and control your visions, and you will have your chance to earn a place in the Order as a Jedi Knight."
Obi-Wan went very, very still. He seemed scarcely to breathe. Julune, on the other hand, was still quivering with indignation.
"Get out of my house."
The Jedi hesitated. "Mistress—"
"Get out of my house!"
He bobbed one more bow. "As you wish." His eyes flicked to the boy. "Please consider what I have said."
With a haste that was almost unbecoming for a calm, staid Knight of the Order, he departed.
X
In the aftermath, Qui-Gon let out a gasping little chuckle. "Well. That was . . . hrm." He cleared his throat and fell silent. It felt like everything had already been said, and in the wake of that storm, only thick stillness was allowed, the air unmoving, rain still dripping from the trees.
Obi-Wan shook his head slightly, as if coming out of a trance, and gently disengaged himself from Julune's grip to look up to her face. She smiled gently, all of her anger immediately hidden away, and stroked her fingers over his cheek, reading the question in his eyes. "Yes, Obi-Wan. I meant everything I said."
He nodded, looking away. "I . . . I need . . . just for a while . . . May I go out to the garden?"
"Of course," Qui-Gon said instantly, as if afraid to let Julune speak. "I'll call you when supper's ready."
They watched him make his way into the kitchen and out the door, and Julune turned to her husband. "It's not fair!" she hissed fiercely. "Why now? He was settling in and getting better! He was happy! This is going to . . ." Her throat closed up and she could not speak. She didn't want to say what she was afraid this was going to do to Obi-Wan, to them.
"Oh, darling, I know, I know." Qui-Gon was at her side in two steps, wrapping her in his warm embrace, the spatula falling forgotten to the floor. "But this is Obi-Wan's choice. We can't make it for him. Please, dearheart, set your desires aside and consider what's best for him."
"I can't!" she half-wailed, half-sobbed, angry tears erupting in her eyes. "Doesn't he know that we want to adopt him, that all we need is his signature to make it so? We were going to be a family! He was going to be my son, our son! I can't set that aside!"
Qui-Gon made a half-hearted shushing noise, reaching up to wipe her tears with shaking fingers. "I-I know. But you have to, Julune. Please. Don't make this harder for him than it already is. I haven't told him about the adoption documents, but he knows that we love him and want him, and that will tear him apart as it is. Let's not make it any harder for him by imposing our own wants on him. He can't bear any more pressure."
"This is going to hurt him," Julune whispered. "It's going to hurt us. Even if he chooses to stay, it won't be the same. Because he'll know that he could have been a knight, could have followed his dream. It won't be the same. How can we live with this?"
"I don't know. I don't know. But we have to." Qui-Gon took a deep breath, then seemed to shake himself, and his voice took on a wry tone. "You really ripped into that knight. And it wasn't even he who wanted Obi-Wan for his apprentice. Knight Xanatos sent him as proxy."
Julune shuddered with disgust. "Oh! How could that . . . that Jedi Knight, Xana-what? How could he send another in his place? And I thought that one was conceited! I thought your old friend was too much! I didn't know the half."
"Knight Martin explained that Xanatos is busy on a war-torn planet out on the Rim, trying to make peace, and couldn't come. But he knew that Obi-Wan would be thirteen soon, and he had to take him as Padawan before that day. So Andros Martin came in his stead. He seems a decent fellow."
Julune shook her head convulsively. "It doesn't matter. I don't care who he is, I don't care what he's really like. I wish he had never come to Bandomeer."
Qui-Gon did not argue, just held her a little tighter. And in this case, silence spoke louder than words.
They stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, until Qui-Gon remembered the stir-fry and went back to check it just before it began to burn. Normally Julune looked forward to this meal, and enjoyed it with all the pleasure that was in her. But today she was sure that it would turn to ashes in her mouth.
X
Obi-Wan lay on his flat rock in the middle of the garden, staring up at the sky, watching it fade from blue to indigo, from gray to black. He knew what he had to do. The Force was chaotic and confused, swirling about him in shades of gray. His emotions were too unsettled for him to meditate effectively. But for once he knew the course he had to take despite that. It was the only thing that made sense.
But he didn't want it. He didn't want it at all.