A/N: Chapter 8 is here! Celebration! This is my beta's fave chapter (smiles and waves to Temple Mistress) so I hope that the rest of you guys enjoy it as well!

Liana: Glad that you liked the forshadowing of what was going to happen when Anakin reached the Council. Now you get to see it first hand! Heh heh heh. Enjoy the chapter, darling, hope you dont have too much work so that you can review right away!

Lea: Of course the mind trick worked. You reviewed, didn't you? LOL.

Monchy: I will forever be squee when I get a review from you! Glad that you like how the story's progressing, but slitting your wrists is NOT allowed... because then where would I get my Star Wars fix, hmmm? We do have to make GL change the story and have Anakin and Obi-Wan end up together... of course, then what would we all write? Interestng, interesting. But I am THRILLED that you like it! Enjoy the next chapter... where Anakin isn't quite so mature.

Alchemy: Well, now you'll get to see the Council's decision... and their reasoning for it. Not that Anakin will see their point, but what would be the fun in that? Yes, they probably do need therapy... heh, just wait until you see what happens after Obi-Wan gets back! (rubs hands together, cackling evilly)

Leah: Squee! What a lovely review! I'm glad that the tension is building and keeping you hooked! I hope this chapter is a good pay-off! He'll be off to get his Obi-Wan back soon... (looks at unfinished chapter 9 on computer and winces) Soon... I hope. Thank you VERY much for your kind review, and I hope you like this newest installment!

Dark Girl: Your review made me laugh, especially the Wizard of Oz reference. Would that be making Anakin into Dorothy? Now there's a scary thought... I'm glad that Anakin was the tragic character in the last chapter... that's what I was really going for, since we're going to be catching up on the Obi-Angst later on. But if Anakin made you feel wah in the last chapter... well I hope that this one provokes some major sniffles!

White Destiny: Thank you for such a great review! Glad to see that my little fic is causing such intense reactions! (hugs). Yes, I am making it a litttttle bit harder with every chapter for Anakin to get to Obi-Wan... but hopefully the slight resolution in this one will make that all better! Of course they need to get back together... if only so that I can invent more obstacles to throw in their way! (cough cough). Awww.. your heart wants to curl into a ball and cry? Sniffles! HAHAH! That makes my Sithly side do a victory dance! YAY! But btw, what does ALIRHLIEJret! mean?

Temple Mistress! My one and only. I dedicate all smells and braid love in this chapter to you! Thank you for letting me make a good chapter great... and beyond great, into my best one yet! It wouldn't have happened without your wonderful hard work! Missing you right now, but muchos love for today! And EVERY day! (HUGS)

On to the chapter...


Chapter 8: It Comes to This.

"Impartiality is a pompous name for indifference, which is an elegant name for ignorance."

- G.K. Chesterton

Anakin tried to relax, hands clenching and unclenching nervously at his sides. He felt as though he was on display, standing before the intolerable scrutiny of the Masters of the Jedi Council. His head still ached abominably, a pain compounded by the penetrating stare of Mace Windu. He had made his report, as brief as he could be without eliminating any important details.

Well, not many important details.

Mace leaned forward, resting his arms loosely on his knees. "One thing that I don't understand is why Obi-Wan crashed on this planet. He's a more cautious pilot than you are, Skywalker."

Oh those accusing eyes. Anakin felt anger begin to stir in his heart, and shoved it aside quickly. He had glossed over his own recklessness that had lead to this situation; not to discredit Obi-Wan, but because Anakin knew that the Council's decision would be influenced by his prior actions. They would hardly let Anakin lead the rescue mission if they found out that the reason such an endeavour was required was because of him.

"I am the better pilot of the two of us, Master," he said quietly, forcing himself to sound respectful. "Master Kenobi was never comfortable with flying."

Mace's eyebrows raised slowly, his disbelief plain as he slowly leaned back in his seat. "I see."

Oh hurry up!Anakin wanted to shout at them, stir these sedentary old farts into some kind of action. They had already wasted an entire week. Force only knew what Obi-Wan was enduring, waiting for Anakin to find him. Because Anakin always rescued Obi-Wan. That was their deal, their pact. To always look out for each other.

And here was Mace Windu, meticulously pouring over every single fucking detail of the disaster. Anakin wanted to hit him, wanted to fling the arrogant bastard to the floor and just hit him again and again, until Mace hurt as much as he did. Maybe that would take that condescending frown off Windu's face. And cause seven kinds of apoplectic fit among the other Council Members, of course, but Sith knew the pedantic old Jedi could use something to shake them out of their placidity.

Anakin swallowed the impulse with difficulty, forcing himself to look politely attentive instead.

"The woman that we found aboard your ship," now it was Ki-Adi-Mundi who was delving into irrelevancies, "she was wounded by a lightsabre blow. Who was she?"

Anakin exhaled slowly, forcing the tenseness from his shoulders. "Her name was Asajj Ventress. She was trained in the Jedi arts by Count Dooku, and helped him to plant this trap for us on Veenat-III. She was the one who sent out the distress signal." By the stars! Hurry up!

"You are sure of this, young one?"

Oh, for Sith's sake….

Anakin's voice was flat. "Yes."

"Ventress, Ventress…" Ki-Adi-Mundi looked from one Jedi Master to the next. "That name sounds familiar to me…."

Anakin choked back a violent retort, keeping his face perfectly impassive as anger seethed and roiled beneath the surface. "She was the one who captured Obi-Wan on Jabiim. She tortured him for months because the Council believed he was dead." He couldn't keep the bitterness that he felt from tainting the last words.

Mace Windu scowled impressively. "Your…personal…feelings about this Ventress woman were no reason to kill her. We could have learned much about Dooku's intentions from her."

"I didn't kill her for what she did to Obi-Wan," Liar. You did, you did, and you enjoyed it. And you would kill her again in a heartbeat. "She attacked me, and I defended myself. I was unable to do so without striking to kill… she was an impressive fighter." He could still feel the fragile bones of her neck snapping under the pressure of his hand, could still remember the warmth of satisfaction that had suffused his body with her death. A cold feeling snaked through his stomach at the memory, curling like ice around the base of his spine at the utter wrongness of his initial, gleeful reaction to Ventress' death. It was disturbing to him but, more than that, Anakin was terrified that the Council would somehow divine these secret, guilty thoughts. He didn't want to prove Mace right about him, to reveal that he was indeed unfit to be a Jedi.

"Worrying, this is," Yoda said slowly, nodding his head once. "If training new apprentices Dooku is, stronger the Dark Side will become. To lose a Jedi such as Obi-Wan Kenobi, a great tragedy is."

Anakin was certain he had misheard the ancient Jedi. "Forgive me, Master, but there is still hope for Obi-Wan. I can find him. We haven't lost him…" Anakin folded his arms into his sleeves as he spoke, gripping his forearms tightly to not betray the nervousness he felt. "Master Kenobi survived three months on Rattatak, there's no reason to assume that he's dead after only a week –"

Yoda drew himself up to his full diminutive height. "Reason to think this, there is. Severed, your training bond has been, and violent it was. Occurs, such an event does, only when killed --"

"He's not dead!"

Silence fell heavily over the chamber, the Jedi masters all glaring in anger at the upstart boy who dared to yell over Master Yoda.

Anakin could feel himself trembling with the effort of constraining his emotions, with fighting back the suffocating pain in his temples and heart. "Masters… forgive me…I…."

"Too soon leaving the Healer's Wing, you were," Yoda said quietly, nodding his head slowly. "Return there, you should."

"No!" Anakin protested. "No, Master Yoda, I… I'm fine."

"Many things you are, young Skywalker. Fine, one of them is not."

"I can feel that Obi-Wan still alive, Master, even though our Force-bond has been broken," Anakin insisted, deciding that it was better to ignore that last comment. "If you don't want me to lead the rescue mission, I…" he took a deep breath, steeling himself, "I will understand and respect that decision."

There was a terrible pause. Mace slowly turned to look at Yoda, raising his eyebrows in a mute question. Yoda's only reply was to close his eyes.

Even that brief exchange spoke volumes to Anakin. He and Obi-Wan had their own non-verbal ways of communicating, of reading each other's moods; it was a skill that came through long familiarity. He could read the unspoken words plainly in the pitying expressions of the Jedi Masters.

"You're not sending anyone, are you?" he asked dully, feeling as though the breath had been stolen from his lungs.

Mace sighed heavily. "It is a regrettable loss –"

"A regrettable loss? What in the Sith is that supposed to mean? Obi-Wan is your best Knight!"

Mace scowled, leaning forwards in his chair to glower at Anakin. "Master Kenobi would agree with our decision. We've lost too many Jedi to these Clone Wars already."

"So you'll just allow another one to be slaughtered?"

The other Jedi Masters shifted uncomfortably in their seats, but Anakin only had eyes for Mace Windu. The older Jedi's jaw clenched visibly, as though holding back his fury at being contradicted.

"If Obi-Wan is still alive, then he is only being used as bait to trap another Jedi. We have to accept the loss of Obi-Wan if it means that no additional Jedi will be captured. That is what he would tell you as well, Skywalker."

"Don't you dare tell me what he would think!" Anakin spat, striding forwards towards Mace. The taller Jedi man stood, trying to stare Anakin down. "You bastard. You're going to just let him die? After all that he's done for this Council, for this Order, you're going to leave him? What the fuck is wrong with you!" he spun in a circle, glaring wildly at the other, silent, Jedi.

Not one of them would meet his eyes. Cowardly bastards.

"Unseemly, this anger is," Yoda spoke softly, but his voice was stern. "Obi-Wan's Padawan, you are no longer. Concerns you not, his fate does."

"I owe him everything," Anakin snapped, "that's not a debt I immediately forgot when I became a Knight. Obi-Wan is my friend and my partner, so if you won't go to save him, I will."

"You will be expelled from the Order!" Mace shouted, a vein bulging out on his forehead. "This Council isn't designed to pander to your whims, Skywalker. You will behave like a Jedi, or you will cease to be one."

Anakin stared at him for a long, slow moment. The room seemed to hold its breath.

"Fine." Anakin said simply. Never once breaking eye-contact with Mace, he shrugged out of his long black robe and threw it at the Jedi Master's feet. The hilt of his lightsabre followed. "If the Jedi Order has come to this, then maybe I won't be a Jedi any more. Fuck the lot of you."

Yoda's ears rose above his head sharply. "The Dark Side I sense in you, young Skywalker. To a dark place, this emotion leads."

"Well maybe the Sith got it right. Some things are absolute… and loyalty is one of them."

Ki-Adi-Mundi stood as well at that, outrage plain on his elongated features. "Don't be so hasty to dismiss the Jedi, Skywalker. Once you walk out that door, you won't be coming back."

Yoda shot a mildly disapproving look at the Jedi Master. "Make his own decisions, young Skywalker will." He turned to look at Anakin calmly. "Knows, Skywalker does, that he does this alone."

Mace's nostrils flared in anger at Yoda's implacable tone. "If I had had my way, you would never have been trained," he snapped, looking Anakin up and down in disgust. "Both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan wasted their time on you. We should have known that you weren't the Chosen One. You have been nothing but reckless from the moment –"

"Lecture him, do not, Master Windu," Yoda interrupted. "Not always so rational are you."

Mace subsided into sullen silence, but his eyes still sparked with anger. Anakin had wanted him to continue, had wanted an excuse to attack the bigger Jedi Master. This animosity between them had been building for a long time, the little sniping remarks, the disapproving glares, the insinuations that Anakin was never going to be good enough. Although he never said it in so many words, Anakin knew that Mace still equated him with the death of Qui-Gon Jinn. The Jedi Master had never failed to draw unflattering comparisons between them, with the silent implication that it would have been better for the entire Order had Anakin somehow been the one to die.

But the one thing that Anakin knew he would never – could never – forgive was the casual way in which Mace had just dismissed Obi-Wan's life as being worth nothing. That alone was enough reason for Anakin to want to snatch up his fallen lightsabre, and drive it though the Jedi Master's stomach.

For years, he had restrained his animosity towards Master Windu, for Obi-Wan's sake rather than anything else. Obi-Wan respected Mace; he was friends with the older Jedi, and Anakin didn't want to disappoint his Master by picking a fight.

Now that Anakin was leaving the Jedi, there was nothing to stop him from lashing out…except…. Except that deliberately provoking Mace in this way would somehow be like admitting that his Master truly was dead.

And Anakin would not accept that.

Instead, he strode forwards until he was nose-to-nose with Mace Windu, staring into those furious black eyes, neither of them giving an inch in their silent battle of wills.

"Fuck. Your. Prophecy." Anakin hissed at him. "And fuck you."

Then spinning on his heel, he stalked from the circular room, hearing the heavy door thud shut behind him. Past the point of no return. He hesitated for a moment, feeling strangely unbalanced without the weight of his lightsabre at his hip, without the comforting presence of Obi-Wan at his shoulder. The Temple seemed somehow… empty without him there.

Anakin sighed heavily, trailing his fingers lightly along the wall as he walked slowly down the corridor. He tried to memorize every sight, every sunlit alcove that cast long bars of shadow and light on the creamy marble floors, the tactile sensation of the cool, smooth, stone under his fingertips, the hum of life that permeated the building, almost too quiet to be heard. All the things that made up this place that had been his home for thirteen years.

No longer. He would be expected to leave the apartments he shared with Obi-Wan, to move out of the Temple. Anakin paused suddenly as he realized that he had nowhere to go. Well, no… that wasn't exactly true. Padmé would want to take him in…but what would that do to her own reputation? Of course, they could finally make their marriage public, but somehow, that thought didn't fill him with joy as it should have. He loved Padmé. He should have been thrilled to be finally free of the oppressive rules of the Jedi Order, free to love her as she deserved to be loved.

He should have been thrilled….

Anakin hadn't counted on how much of his identity was determined by the fact that he was a Jedi. Now he felt adrift, exposed. The trappings of his life had been stripped away suddenly, and by his own hand. He didn't know who he was supposed to be without those constants in his life. The Jedi Order. Obi-Wan Kenobi…and Padmé.

Padmé….

Padmé had fallen in love with a Jedi Knight… would that change now that he was no one?

The apartments that he had shared with Obi-Wan for the past thirteen years seemed so lifeless, oppressive with silence. Anakin closed his eyes for a moment as he walked into Obi-Wan's room, breathing in deeply. He could still feel his Master's presence in the room, as though the few meagre possessions that Obi-Wan had collected in his lifetime still remembered and longed for their owner.

Even now, the data-pad lay forlorn on the bed from where Obi-Wan must have left it, so in a hurry had he been to leave for their last mission together. He had been grumbling about its absence ever since, and Anakin had delighted in teasing his Master about being absent-minded; something he so rarely had a chance to do. A faint smile curved his lips at the memory.

Anakin was glad the data-pad was still there; the Council wouldn't have known that Obi-Wan had forgotten it, and they would have transmitted the details of the mission to both it and the ship's main computer. Now Anakin wouldn't have to sneak into the Archives before Jocasta Nu found out he was no longer a Jedi and, as such, no longer permitted access to the files therein. Letting his hands glide over the glowing screen, he swiftly called up their last mission outline.

And sagged backwards in relief onto the bed.

The coordinates for the planet were there, sharp black words against the brilliant white of the screen. Anakin swiftly committed them to memory, just in case, and then let the data-pad fall softly to the carpeted floor. He had found the means to the end. Now, alone in the room of his former Master, he could finally let go of all the anguish that had been building inside of him. Feeling tears well up in his eyes, he slowly lay back onto the bed and, curling up into a tight ball, grabbed Obi-Wan's pillow. He clutched it tightly against his cheek, as though it was an anchor keeping him from being swept away. In a way, it was. As soundless sobs shook his entire body, Anakin hugged the small pillow tighter, clutching it with ferocious desperation.

Master, Obi-Wan, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I left you. Please hang on, I'm coming, I'm coming.

The pillow smelled like Obi-Wan, an elusive, fresh scent that reminded Anakin of the summer rains on Coruscant, mingled with something else, a musky, spicy fragrance that was utterly Obi-Wan. How many times had he crawled into this bed as a young Padawan, scared from his nightmares? How many times had Obi-Wan rolled out of bed in favour of his Padawan, tucking Anakin in with grudging affection before retiring to a chair? How many times had Anakin fallen back into sweet, undisturbed sleep with his face pressed against this very pillow?

How many nights, after Rattatak, had he awoken to the sound of his Master's screams, muffled against its fabric? Anakin wasn't the only one who was plagued with nightmares… but he had always had the option of seeking comfort from his Master. Obi-Wan, as the senior Jedi, had never allowed himself even that small comfort. How often had Obi-Wan cried into this pillow, when memories of his imprisonment came back to haunt him? Anakin didn't want to think of that, bitterly regretting every time he had decided to remain silent, to leave Obi-Wan alone with his fears.

Now Obi-Wan was with Dooku, who had depths of cruelty that Ventress didn't even approach.

What manner of nightmare was he living through right now?

Master, please. Please hang on. I'm not going to leave you, Master. I'm coming.

He tried to send the thoughts out along their training bond, only to smother a scream against the fabric of the pillow as white-hot agony burned through his mind. It terrified him, this inability to feel Obi-Wan's presence. They were closer than most teams in the Temple, in dint of their long-standing relationship – or 'thirteen years of hell', as Obi-Wan had taken to calling it, lips quirked into a smile to show Anakin that he was mostly kidding. They had been separated before, sometimes beyond the reach of their connection, but that had been a muffled feeling, not this raw, aching wound in his mind.

Not this leaden weight in his heart.

Sitting up, still sniffling, Anakin cast around for something – anything! – that he could do to somehow reconnect him to Obi-Wan. Something to serve as a constant reminder until his Master was safe and well again.

Obi-Wan's Padawan, you are no longer. Concerns you not, his fate does.

Anakin flinched at the memory of Master Yoda's words, and pushed one hand through his unruly curls in frustration…and paused, eyes distant at a sudden flash of memory. Yes. That was it. Still cuddling the pillow in the crook of his right arm, Anakin reached up into his long blonde curls, separating three strands from the mass behind his right ear.

"Anakin, what is that supposed to be?" Obi-Wan sounded as though he didn't know whether to be annoyed or amused.

Anakin blinked innocent blue eyes at his Master, slightly unnerved. He didn't think that he'd done anything wrong on this mission yet. He had been very careful about that; after all, it was his first time out of the Temple on an actual assignment with Master Kenobi. He didn't want to screw up his first time around.

"Master?"

Obi-Wan raised one suspicious eyebrow at the ingenuous tone of voice. "That, Padawan." He walked over to where Anakin was perched anxiously on the edge of his bed to tug sharply on the short Padawan braid. "What sort of womp-rat's tail is this supposed to be? We are meeting with the ambassadors in a few hours, you realize."

"It's… it's my braid, Master." Anakin was unsure where this was going. The damn thing looked close enough to the way the girls back in the Temple did it, after all. Maybe it was a little lumpy, but not so bad as to warrant this reaction.

"Force preserve me," Obi-Wan muttered under his breath, moving to sit next to Anakin and tugging the tie from the end of the mangled braid so that he could unwind the uneven strands. "You haven't learned how to do this by now?"

Anakin flushed. "I…. Well, it's just that… the female Padawans always…"

"I see." Obi-Wan said calmly. Somehow his implacable tone made Anakin all the more embarrassed. "Well, it's about time that you learned, Anakin. There aren't always going to be accommodating women around…that sort of thing is forbidden once you get older," he added in an undertone as an afterthought.

Anakin frowned, confused. "Why is it forbidden to have some girl braid your hair?"

Obi-Wan looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh, which made Anakin scowl more. He hadn't said anything that amusing, had he?

"Try again." Obi-Wan instructed, mastering his mirth and letting the three loose pieces of hair fall from his fingers.

Anakin grabbed the offending strands, grappling in vain with them. "I can't do this without a mirror," he grumbled.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "A mirror only makes it more difficult when you don't know what you're doing. Try again."

"Do, or do not. There is no try," Anakin replied sarcastically, earning himself a light cuff across the back of his head from Obi-Wan.

"We may all have done that once, Padawan," he reprimanded Anakin lightly, "but until you're a full Knight, I expect you to be more respectful. Consider this your warning. Now…" he paused subtly, "…braid your hair, you must, or quite irritated, I will become."

Anakin giggled at the imitation, reaching over to smack Obi-Wan over the back of the head in the same manner. Obi-Wan grabbed his hand swiftly with a laugh, his grey-blue eyes impishly bright.

"Like you can do it without seeing what you're doing," Anakin scoffed, sullen at being thus thwarted, and wrestling once again with the pieces of hair.

Obi-Wan's lips quirked into a smile and, closing his eyes, he separated three pieces of his own hair from his coppery locks. Fingers flickering blindingly fast, he swiftly twined a tight, even, braid that fell behind his right ear to barely graze his chin. Obi-Wan shrugged, tugging at it. "It feels odd to have it this short," he confessed.

Anakin remembered how long Obi-Wan's Padawan braid had been, falling over the Jedi's right shoulder to his belt. Now that Obi-Wan was no longer a Padawan, the braid had been severed, and his hair was slowly growing out. It was at his chin now, and Obi-Wan was always tossing his head irritably to clear the errant strands from his eyes.

"How do you do that?" Anakin complained, giving up on his own mangled braid to glower at the perfect plait in his Master's hair.

Obi-Wan grinned. "Practice, young one. Only practice." Flicking his eyes towards the closed door, then to his chrono, he bit his lip thoughtfully. "Which we can do right now."

Anakin shrugged. "It probably would be easier if I could just see what I was doing! I just can't get my fingers to go in the right direction…." He trailed off, beginning to smile as he stared at Obi-Wan.

"Anakin…?" the Jedi Knight sounded a little worried.

"Let me practice on you!" Anakin exclaimed.

"I… I beg your pardon?"

"Yeah!" Reaching out, Anakin grabbed a handful of Obi-Wan's hair, just as the Jedi tried to pull away, provoking an undignified squawk of surprise from the Jedi Master. Anakin duly memorised all the words that he hadn't heard before for future reference; Obi-Wan cursed better than anyone else he knew.

"Come on, Master, this will be fun!"

Anakin blinked as the memory faded, to find that he was clutching a thin, even, plait loosely in his left hand. He hadn't even noticed that he had finished braiding it, so familiar had the process become. He could even do it with his eyes closed….

Sith, he hadn't thought about that for a long, long time. How he had spent the next couple of hours twining braid after braid into Obi-Wan's straight, smooth hair, laughing at the grumbled complaints from his Master. In the end, they had almost been late for their dinner with the ambassadors, and Obi-Wan had been obliged to run there with his Padawan in tow, hair still a mass of braids in varying sizes.

Even after Obi-Wan had managed to unsnarl most of his hair, he had kept that one braid behind his ear for a few weeks longer….

Smoothing the small braid back into the mass of curls behind his ear, Anakin reverently set the pillow to one side, smoothing out so that it looked exactly as Obi-Wan had left it, then stood decisively.

He would wear the braid until Obi-Wan was safe again. It didn't matter that he was no longer a Jedi; he would always be Obi-Wan's apprentice. That was something that the Council couldn't take away from him. Even after he was forced to say goodbye to his old friend and mentor and made to leave the Temple, he would still be Obi-Wan's protégé. That was a title he could carry in his heart for the rest of his life.

Would it be enough? Anakin considered. Would it be enough to be nobody of consequence, after being hailed on the HoloNet for years on end due to his exploits? Would it be enough to work from day to day, morning to night, in one place for the rest of his life, when once he had travelled the galaxy? Would it be enough to know that Obi-Wan was alive, even if they could no longer be partners…?

Yes. It was more than enough.

'Except that I'll be worrying about him every day for the rest of my life,' Anakin thought cynically. 'He won't be able to handle himself without me to guard his back….'

There was a soft chime at the door that startled him from his momentary reverie. Snatching up the fallen data-pad, Anakin quickly stuffed it into a pocket of his tunic before answering the door.

Master Yoda stood there solemnly, leaning heavily on his gimmer stick.

"Master?"

"Glad, am I that still here, you are." Yoda said calmly, casually walking into the apartment past a bewildered Anakin.

"I… I was just packing my things…" he stammered. 'And sobbing into Obi-Wan's pillow….' Swiftly, he rubbed at his eyes, praying that they weren't all red and blotchy; he didn't want Yoda to know how upset he was.

"Worried am I about your decision, young Skywalker." Yoda said gravely, looking around the apartment, his eyes sad. "Strong enough to face Count Dooku alone, you are not."

Anakin didn't reply. There was nothing more to be said.

Yoda sighed. "Made up your mind, you have." He suddenly looked so much older to Anakin's eyes. Almost…frail. "Wonder about you, I do, young Skywalker. An old friend of mine, Dooku was. Know his strengths well, I do. Know his weaknesses, I do. Arrogant, he has become." Yoda nodded sagely, ears laying flat as he peered up into Anakin's face. "Careful you must be, when face him you do. But if challenge Dooku you must, need this, I think you might." He reached into the sleeve of his robe as he spoke, and pulled out the hilt of Anakin's discarded lightsabre.

Anakin knelt to receive the sabre, his hand trembling as he took the delicate cylinder, revelling anew at the way it fit perfectly into his hand, and the comforting weight of the metal against the cybernetic prosthesis. It had been only a matter of hours since he had given it up, this ultimate symbol of Jedi status, and Sith, but he had missed it. The sabre hilt was based loosely on the design of Obi-Wan's own; an emulation from his hero-worshipping days as a Padawan. Coupled with the braid nestled in his hair, he felt like a child again, a newly-ordained Knight about to face the world on his own for the first time.

And his first mission was already decided.

Reaching out, Yoda touched Anakin's cheek lightly, almost in benediction. "Clouded your path is to me, young one," he said quietly, "But entwined with Obi-Wan's, it is. Lucky he is to have you."

Anakin closed his eyes, nodding tightly, not trusting his voice to speak. Even if he could have found his voice, there were no words to express what that simple phrase meant to him.

He was being given a second chance. A chance to prove himself to his Master, and to the Council. A chance to rectify his careless mistakes.

Snatching a spare cloak from the closet, he swept past the tiny Jedi Master, swinging the heavy black fabric over his shoulders as he walked, affixing the metallic cylinder of his lightsabre's hilt to his belt.

I'm coming, Master.

END CHAPTER.


BAM! Chapter 8 is DONE! And Xtine would like to offer her kind thanks to the Yoda ex Machina for some stellar sabre-returning work. (pats the little green dude on the head).

Reviews are love, and you can't buy love, and I'm a starving student who can't buy anything, so reviews would be nice. Um. Did that make sense?

Xtine the Pirate