The following evening found Obi-Wan facing the sunset with trepidation written across his bearded and worn features. In this new reality he had created, the Dark Side was much stronger than even before. The Force had been heavily clouded and he found meditation quite difficult. Obi-Wan, for the first time in his life was facing a future without the guidance the Force had always provided him.
Instead, he found himself relying upon his instincts, and his instincts were now telling him that his Master was wrong.
It was much more clear to him following his first Force passage through time. The problem wasn't Anakin's relationship with Padmé, but with him.
He should have never trained the boy. He wasn't ready. He was too young, too inexperienced.
The training of the Chosen One should have been performed by the only person who could have done it. The one person in the entire galaxy who believed in Anakin from the start.
Qui-Gon.
Resolved to do what needed to be done, despite his former Master's wishes, Obi-Wan slumped once more onto the sandy soil, reaching out to what little of the Force he could grasp. He sighed with relief when the distant colors in the sky began to shift and perform their dance across the horizon. However, his smile quickly changed to a grimace of worry, as he noted the one color that was moving toward him and encircling him was red.
The color of the Sith.
And he suddenly had a very bad feeling about this passage.
But without the guidance of the Force, he found that he didn't exactly trust his feelings any more, and besides, what did it matter? He knew what had to be done. It was so clear.
He had to go back and face Darth Maul once more, but this time, Qui-Gon would live, and he would train Anakin himself.
And finally, things would turn out the way they should have.
The red hue infiltrating his vision dissipated slowly, revealing a vaguely familiar wooded area beyond the ramp on which he stood. Having regained his senses completely, Obi-Wan stared ahead toward the tall, brown-robed individual standing in the fog that drifted up from the nearby swamp.
"Qui-Gon." He whispered into the early morning mist as a smile slowly spread across his face. It was a moment before Obi-Wan could move, literally forcing his feet to walk down the ramp. As he slowly made his way toward his Master, his hand reached up to feel the length of the padawan braid that hung down across his chest. The touch of it brought back many fond memories as well as regrets, one of them standing just inches away from him.
Upon reaching Qui-Gon's side, Obi-wan realized that he was still gaping at the older man, but seemingly was unable to stop himself. It was all he could to keep from bursting out in laughter due to the sheer joy of seeing Qui-Gon alive again. The look, however, that his Master shot him, withered away any feeling of giddiness and Obi-Wan shook himself free of his distracting elation.
What was wrong? Qui-Gon had often been strict and stern, but it seemed as if his Master was upset with him.
Obi-Wan contemplated on the past, working through figuring out the reason that would cause such a look to appear on Qui-Gon's face.
Oh yes. Now he remembered.
He had been irritated at his Master for wanting to take Anakin as his padawan learner. In fact, it had initially hurt Obi-Wan.
One moment, Qui-Gon was telling him he still had much to learn, and the next, he was being shoved aside for the precious 'chosen one.'
If his memory was now serving him correctly, it was time to make his apology.
"Master." Obi-Wan began humbly.
Now what was it he had said?
"I'm sorry for what I said about the boy. I have no right to interfere. You should him train him. He needs you."
Not exactly true to history, but close enough, Obi-Wan thought.
Qui-Gon's understanding smile warmed the younger Jedi's heart. "You have more right than anyone. You have been a good apprentice. You are much wiser than I am, Obi-Wan. I foresee you will become a great Jedi Knight."
As you will make of Anakin, Master. Obi-Wan thought to himself as he returned Qui-Gon's smile, relishing in the comforting warmth of his Master's hand upon his shoulder.
AN: Sorry these last few chapters are so short. I've got too many irons in the fire these days: )
