Author: EsotericCrimson
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Mine? Ha; I wish.
Summary: When Obi-Wan is wounded on a diplomatic assignment gone awry, Anakin is left to reflect upon his relationship with his former Master, and realizes that, when death could come for them at any moment, there are some things that cannot be left unsaid. Slash.
A/N: This chapter was one of the first I wrote for this fic – it was going to be a standalone, but I decided to change directions. Just a little interlude I felt the need to write, that I morphed into a chapter of this particular piece. Sort of transitory, really, but it serves its purpose in the end. Plus it's rather angsty and emotional, which are two themes I always enjoy writing about.
Thanks to the Chapter One reviewers -
Anakin's Girl 4eva – Thanks for the review – I hope this was quick enough for your liking, though I had intended this update to be sooner.
Viva-la-Resistance – I'm not certain how your 'Oh' was meant, exactly, but I do appreciate your review, and most of all, the fact that you read the fic, so thank you :D
Ewan007 – I am happy that you've enjoyed it thus far – I hope you continue to!
lil-kenobi-greenleaf – Thanks so much, not only for your kind review, but also for coming back again to read :D
Again, I hope you all enjoy the chapter, and please don't forget to review!
- EsotericCrimson
Chapter Two: Braided
"No."
The single word was not angry, nor challenging - it was stated simply as an answer. Unfortunately, the statement it was made in response to was not a question.
"This isn't a request, Padawan. It's a requirement, and you will fulfil it."
"But I don't want to."
"But you will. It's not as if it's a difficult obligation, Anakin. In fact, you don't have to do anything but consent."
"I don't want to, though," the boy reiterated. He'd been a Jedi for all of four days. He saw this as a rather weighty thing to ask of him after so little time.
Obi-Wan, on the other hand, felt that he had given the boy plenty of leeway on the matter. In any other case, it would have been done immediately. No – in any other case, it would not have needed to be done, as it wouldn't have been allowed to happen in the first place. Younglings were brought to the Temple so early in their lives that they had little to no recollection of their parents or their homeworlds, let alone the appearances and customs of their people. They were groomed to be Jedi from the beginning.
As he could not bring himself to bridge the gap from exasperation to irritation, Obi-Wan sighed as he attempted yet again to reason with his newly appointed apprentice. "It's hair Anakin. It will grow back."
"Where's your braid?" the boy asked suddenly.
"What?"
"The braid," Anakin pulled on a strand of his own lengthy hair, following it to an imaginary elongation for emphasis.
"It's a Padawan braid. It is severed at Knighthood, as is the Master-Padawan bond," Obi-Wan concentrated carefully on keeping the emotion from his voice, but his apprentice still detected the thickness of his words.
"Why would that happen?"
"It's symbolic, really," Obi-Wan said softly. "The braid is adorned vaguely with given beads and wrappings, to mark the achievements of a given apprentice. Yet, when you become a Knight, and take that step towards independence in following the will of the Force, you need no longer depend in any way upon the victories and defeats of the past. A clean slate, of sorts."
"I…" Anakin seemed hesitant to continue with his inquiry.
"What is it?" Obi-Wan was impassive in his question, yet an underlying combination of impatience overpowered by concern laced the utterance.
"I, I meant the bond. Why is the bond severed?"
Obi-Wan was taken aback for only a moment. He had never experienced the voluntary detachment of the intimate bond shared between a Master and Apprentice, only the forcible, soul-wrenching loss of his connection with the only father figure he had ever known. While his misgivings of the boy before him had lessened somewhat since they had first been introduced, they were by no means nonexistent. He highly doubted that the bond he would share with his apprentice would be an exceptionally strong one, but… if given the benefit of the doubt, they did form a powerful bond, what would if feel like to consent to be rid of it? To know, fully, that you were relinquishing that connection, and to do so without question? Without reservations? Obi-Wan was unsure he would ever have been capable of breaking his bond with Qui-Gon in such a manner. Why else would he have chosen to remain a Padawan learner for so long, when he could easily have proven himself years ago as prepared enough to face the trials?
"I suppose… the bond represents… attachment. As a Padawan, it is frowned upon, but allowed as a necessity for the young psyche. Yet, as a Knight, it can mean the difference between life and death. It's not something that can be allowed to cause deviation from one's duty."
Anakin was silent for a moment, taking in the somewhat short and unconvincing explanation, interpreting it and mulling it over. Seemingly satisfied with his analysis, he posed another question.
"Do you believe that?"
"I believe in the Code. That is why I follow it, and have devoted my life in service to what it stands for."
"But that wasn't my question," Anakin teetered dangerously upon the line dividing innocent curiosity and impudence. "Do you believe that attachment is dangerous? That… that feelings aren't important? That loving someone, and caring for them – that that's wrong?"
Obi-Wan was momentarily stunned by the passion in the child's words. It sparked something unknown and unsought for in his own being, some semblance of selfish need and want, an ardency of his own that he'd never felt before, perhaps only because he hadn't allowed himself to. It was warm, and all-consuming; inviting him to ascend into an entirely new state of existence, transcending the lackluster of the here and now and arriving in a place where he was free of restraint, and able to act as he felt most inclined to, without fear of rebuke.
It began to spread through him, taking over his body first, silent but lethal, seeming to erase his carefully cultivated self-control, the very restriction he had spent so long trying to perfect – this whirlwind of parsimonious feeling obliterated it without difficulty – it was too powerful to be quelled as it began next to take over his mind. This was even more troublesome, to be sure, as his resolve was well known. He fought it only briefly, however – this time by choice – for even the most determined sentient being cannot resist the siren song of savoring raw, unadulterated emotion. His mind conquered, the wave of love, hatred, longing, jealousy, grief, ecstasy, wonder, frustration, and every other emotion that he felt with crystalline clarity, but had never heard a name put to, began wearing systematically away at the last reserve of his honed Jedi lifestyle. Coincidentally, it was that last barrier that was, and always had been, Obi-Wan Kenobi's greatest strength, and sometimes, simultaneously, and unknown to the world around him, his greatest weakness: that passionate array of feeling began to worm its way into his very heart and soul.
He felt the emotions begin to creep up within him once more, synchronizing themselves with the very beating of his heart, intoxicating him thoroughly with each pulsation – pain, pleasure, envy, heartache, loss, gain, power, weakness, loneliness, invigoration, companionship – each coursing through his veins in ways in which he'd never imagined possible. It was beautiful, and frightening, and awe-inspiring…
And oh-so-very wrong.
He stopped himself abruptly, allowing all of those newly adapted emotions to flow freely as he released them into the Force; these things he had experienced vaguely before, but never for himself, were now gone from his immediate consciousness. They were in the past now, left for him to reflect properly upon when he was safely removed from the encounter.
But, deep in his heart, he knew that he wanted desperately to feel them again, someday. And indeed, to allow those emotions to bloom fully within him, to be able to express them accurately to the person they were aimed towards; to feel was any normal human being was meant to feel – that remained the single, most frantic desire he kept locked secretly within his soul for years to come.
"It's time that you saw to the length of your hair, Padawan."
Anakin was silent
"Did you keep it?"
"Keep what?"
"The braid. Your Padawan braid."
"It is tradition to keep it, yes. Then again, it is tradition that the Master cut his Padawan's plait. I planned to remove my own, but it was Master Yoda, in the end, who trimmed it," Obi-Wan's hands instinctively went to his hair, as he played with the small tuft of what was left of the intricate twist of hair. His palms trembled slightly as he continued. "I did keep it," he paused, wondering why he, being a relatively closed-off person when it came to sharing his own personal business, was willingly divulging such things to this boy whom he barely knew, and didn't quite yet trust.
"I did keep it," he continued, "But I mean to be rid of it soon enough. It is unimportant, and it serves only to remind me of the past, which is something I must endeavor to overcome with all haste."
"But you said it was tradition," Anakin interjected in protest, not understanding why Obi-Wan planned to be rid of the symbolic strand.
"At times, even tradition is outmoded, my young apprentice. At times, it is better to blaze one's own path, when it hurts none to do so."
"It won't hurt you?" Anakin queried, disbelief evident in his tone.
"It hurts me more to recall what it meant, so soon after," Obi-Wan spoke with a simple finality, having had his share of the conversation, and then some.
Anakin seemed to struggle with his next words, a fact that Obi-Wan noted but did not respond to in the slightest. When the boy finally did manage to begin to speak, his Master remained impassive.
"Would it hurt you… if I wore it?"
"What?" Obi-Wan turned sharply, his eyes narrowed at the child as if he had asked to claim a star system as his own.
"Well, from what you've said, every Padawan needs a braid, right? And my hair might be lengthy now, but even so it wouldn't make a good one. It wouldn't be long enough. So, if you don't want it, and if it doesn't mean anything to you, maybe I could have it? To use, until I can grow my own?"
Obi-Wan didn't know what to say. The boy's audacity was to be admired, but it was unthinkably unbecoming of a Jedi. As for the braid itself…
"We shall see," were the newly ordained Knight's only words to his Padawan as he rose silently and left the room, presumably to ponder the conversation he had just concluded in privacy. Anakin sighed heavily as he heard the door close behind Obi-Wan. Only days into his career as a Jedi, and he was already bothering his Master. He knew he couldn't continue to do so if he wished to remain Obi-Wan Kenobi's apprentice, or anyone's apprentice, for that matter.
Moving to the sleep area of their quarters on Naboo, Anakin threw himself resignedly upon the bed, burrowing his face in a pillow as he kicked the down mattress in frustration. Flipping himself upon his side, he found a string of metallic silver that had been loosed from the detailed embroidery of the coverlet, and immediately began to finger it nervously.
His eyes strayed about the room, drinking in his surroundings as he had done numerous times since their arrival, but at this point not truly seeing the room about him any longer, as he knew it intimately by now. Yet, as his glances focused to his right, there was something there that caught his eyes – something he'd never noticed before. Something that had not been there before.
Anakin saw the braid laying on the small nightstand in their shared temporary quarters; he hadn't noticed it previously. He saw that it was just as it had been before the blade had removed it – long, tightly coiled, and well-kept. Yet the tiny assortment of adorning beads and wraps that held the braid at its end had all been unceremoniously removed, exposing more of the light auburn hair. The only color upon the twist was a small, sphere-shaped bead of the most deep and stunning azure. Anakin reached out hesitantly, looking about him to ensure that the room was vacated still, and fingered the glassy orb with a reverence he didn't quite understand. He noticed next that the topmost strands of the plait had been frayed out dexterously, and had skillfully been separated once more into the triad of thicker threads that would serve to attach it to the stub of another braid. Enough of the hair was undone in such a manner to ensure a secure bond to the scalp of another while still maintaining an appropriate length; one which Anakin could be proud of when he arrived at the Temple and began his formal training. One which no other Padawan Learner could even fathom mocking or questioning.
And suddenly, the implications of all of this hit him with the very weight of a Hutt.
For all his outward indications otherwise, Obi-Wan had meant for Anakin to have the precious braid all along.
"I want to go to him."
Luminara was in a predicament – and for a Master of her caliber to admit to that was nothing short of shocking. She tried to deny that Anakin's relentless pleas to see Obi-Wan hadn't affected her better judgement, but the charade was short lived. His passionate entreaties, and their ceaseless nature, were beginning to wear upon her resolve.
Besides, it wasn't as if she reveled in either man's suffering. Quite the opposite, in fact.
"He is not well, Anakin. Neither are you, for that matter." It was a spineless response, she knew – but it was the only one she felt fit to provide, given the circumstances.
"I am fine. And if Obi-Wan is unwell, then that's all the more reason why I should be with him."
"He isn't awake."
Anakin shook his head fervently. "That is irrelevant."
Luminara sighed. She knew that, at this point, Anakin could only do good for Obi-Wan. There was little room for worsening in the Jedi Master's condition, and the will of the Force would prevail regardless of Anakin's absence or presence. Yet the effect that seeing Obi-Wan in such a state might have upon the young Knight was one that pained her greatly to consider.
"He could pass into the Force at any time, Anakin. You must be prepared for that."
Anakin swallowed audibly, and Luminara did not fail to note the tears that welled in his eyes as he cast his gaze downwards.
"I understand," the tremulous whisper came in reply.
"Come, then. I'll take you to his room." With that, the graceful Healer rose and moved towards the door, turning back as she reached the exit and throwing Anakin a meaningful glance as she beckoned him to follow with all haste.
He did not hesitate.
