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Four Years Later
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Anakin sat cross-legged in a meditation garden, tugging gently on his Padawan's braid. Four years and it still felt as if it were a tether anchoring him to a Master that had never truly wanted him. But he was grateful, nonetheless. Unwilling or not, Obi-Wan had saved him from something akin to death. No slave wanted to return to his previous life when freedom had been granted, and a better life was so close you could taste it.

Anakin had realized too late that he had merely traded one form of slavery for another; the rules of the Jedi were as binding and confining as any of Watto's rules had been. But the circumstances behind them, and the reasons for which they were implemented were vastly different. Anakin could appreciate the difficulty in living a life dedicated to such a noble calling, and that rules were necessary to facilitate that living. Just as he was able to respect Obi-Wan for choosing such a life and succeeding at it for nigh on twenty-nine years, Anakin could respect the Code and the tenets to which the entire Order were dedicated.

The braid between his fingers was a symbol of his commitment. Obi-Wan had told him this before the ceremony on Naboo, but the older Jedi was unable to go into much detail. It wasn't until the transport ride home that his Master had been able to tell him much of anything. And it had all started with this innocuous piece of hair.

"The Padawan's braid," Obi-Wan had stated, "Is a symbol. Each strand represents an aspect of the Padawan's life: the middle represents the Jedi Code. The left represents the Padawan's Master and the right, the Padawan."

Which was simple enough to understand; each thread was woven together, just as the Code, the core of the Padawan's life, was irrevocably entwined with his Master's teachings, and the process of learning.

But it became even more profound when Obi-Wan added, "Your hair wasn't long enough for a braid of the proper length. No Jedi Initiate's hair is. Which is why, through braiding, I grafted a segment of my own braid into yours. This is to show the unity between you and I, for I have been where you will go. Through our unification, we will essentially be sharing our lives. Just as the twining of the strands is our entwined relationship, the twining of the halves represent our conjoined lives."

Those words, bubbling up from his memory, still didn't explain why he felt so tethered by this profound symbol of his new life. It's probably because Obi-Wan's only real tie to me is a deathbed promise to a beloved Master. That explains a lot of things, really, except…

Except that Obi-Wan's actions had belied that notion. Yes, something fundamental had shifted within the newly Knighted Jedi, but it seemed as if Obi-Wan was trying to compensate for it by trying to care for Anakin as if Anakin had been chosen by him, instead of being chosen for him.

Surprisingly, it's working, Anakin mused, a thin smile playing over his mouth. He almost seems like the Obi-Wan I met, and not the Obi-Wan he had become.

Closing his eyes, he let the Force surround him, finding that place in his mind that was Obi-Wan. The Master-Padawan bond was warm, and the youngster tickled it a little before tugging gently. A tiny gasp escaped from between parted lips and he let go of the braid.

Obi-Wan was close. Very close.

"Anakin?"

Obi-Wan's here...

Anakin opened his eyes. "Master."

He watched as the older man approached, almost shyly. He had something in his hands, but Anakin couldn't tell what it was at this distance. In moments, Obi-Wan was kneeling before his Padawan, who was regarding him curiously.

Anakin couldn't fathom what this visit could mean, as it was a free period to do as he wished. He sensed no urgency from the man before him, nor was there any alarm behind his expression.

To his merit, he didn't flinch when Obi-Wan gently grasped his hand, cradling it, palm up. A smooth, shiny black stone was pressed into his hand. It filled his entire palm. In the instant that the light hit it at that certain angle, he could see deep, red veins running through it.

Obi-Wan's river stone! The stone that Qui-Gon had gifted to Obi-Wan so many years a go! Why in all the Sith hells is he giving...

"Happy thirteenth birthday, Anakin."

...Oh. "But this is the only thing you have left of Qui-Gon, Master," he said softly, searching Obi-Wan's gaze.

The Master swallowed hard. "I know. I was granted this gift at the start of my own journey as a Padawan; I was granted the honour of learning from him. I grew to love him as a father, mentor and friend. But you loved him just as much as I did, and were unable to spend the lifetime that you were meant to at his side. I wish to give you a piece of him to carry with you."

Anakin could feel his heart swelling with emotion. He fought back tears that suddenly began to prick at his eyes. Four years ago, after Qui-Gon's funeral, Anakin would never have believed that Obi-Wan could regain this level of compassion ever again.

"Thank you, Obi-Wan. I will treasure it always, and keep it in good faith," Anakin vowed, clasping the rock to his heart. "Between us, he will never be forgotten."

Ob-Wan smiled sadly, and stood. "Don't forget to do the Ritual," he said, patting the younger man on the head.

Anakin watched as his Master disappeared into the Temple-proper, feeling the trace of tears upon his cheeks.