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: Thanks to the Chapter Two reviewers -
Anakin's Girl 4eva – Thank you :D The next update should be relatively quick, given that I might get some spare time over the holidays :D
TenshiSakuraTakai – Thank you so much for your amazing comments; you made me smile. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much; it's a bit more choppy, but I wanted to convey the small story line without it getting too long, so I tried to make it flow as much as possible.
i luv ewansmile – Thanks again :D
rlturner79 – Thank you; and I am so glad you mentioned the past/present style I've been using, I was afraid it might get confusing. I am incredibly glad that you liked it.
Padfoot Reincarnated – Thanks; I am very glad you liked it. And I love your penname, by the way.
Enjoy, and please review. Happy Holidays, Everyone :D
- EsotericCrimson
Chapter Three: Callous
It was a very special day. Anakin had been looking forward to it for ages, though he hadn't spoken on the topic. No one else ever did, and he thought that perhaps it was wrong, or frowned upon, to do so. He had considered mentioning it to Obi-Wan, for he had come to like his Master more and more over the course of the months they had spent at the Temple, but thought better of it. The elder Jedi was still somewhat stoic and distant towards his apprentice, and Anakin did not wish to make the situation any worse.
But Anakin had decided that this was simply his way. That Obi-Wan was just a closed off type of person, and it had nothing to do with Anakin personally. Nothing at all.
It hurt less to live with that delusion than to think that his Master simply despised him.
That was what bothered him the most, in all actuality – the idea that Obi-Wan might just hate him, resent him, for simply being Anakin Skywalker, an inept Padawan learner, an annoying pre-adolescent, and a general burden upon his day-to-day life.
He wouldn't have minded so much, really, if just anyone had felt that way about him. But if Obi-Wan felt that way about him… that as something else entirely.
Because Obi-Wan mattered. More than anyone else.
Thinking these thoughts, as he tended to do regularly, he awoke earlier that morning than he was accustomed, so excited was he that today was indeed the day. He wondered if anyone would acknowledge it, if anyone would know besides him. He expected not, and tried to convince himself that it didn't matter if anyone else congratulated him – he knew, and that was enough.
After all, it wasn't every day that a boy turned eleven.
But he knew, deep down, that if Obi-Wan remembered, it would be more than just a birthday to Anakin. It would be something worth remembering his entire life.
It would mean that maybe – just maybe – Obi-Wan cared about him, as Anakin had come to care for his Master.
Obi-Wan had sensed Anakin stirring in his room at that early hour. He had been brewing tea in their small, yet functional kitchenette when his young Padawan had awoken, his excitement radiating through the Force and acting as explanation for his uncharacteristically early rising.
Obi-Wan smiled softly as he felt the emotional thrill vibrating through their shared quarters and permeating the air that circulated through the rooms. The serene grin only grew as he lifted the mug he held to his lips and sipped at the uniquely strong brew that was steadily cooling within.
He knew, of course, why Anakin was so ecstatic this particular morning, though he would never have voiced his knowledge before now, and knew that the boy would not broach the subject if he was not prompted to.
Today was the anniversary of Anakin Skywalker's birth, and given Obi-Wan's occasional intuitive prowess, accompanied by sheer talents in the fields of observation and pure logic, he would venture that the boy was turning eleven.
Obi-Wan smiled serenely as he contemplated the excitement that permeated their quarters, wondering at its volume in relation to its stimulus. In all honesty, Obi-Wan could remember only three birthdays he had celebrated in all his nearly 27 years.
The first was when he was very young – there was a sort of communal celebration of the Younglings' ascent from one level of general training to a more rigorous one. He could not have been any more than five or six, if his memory served him faithfully. He recalled simple recognition of achievement, a sweet orange-colored drink that he'd never before sampled, and an introduction to a number of eminent Jedi personalities he'd never met before. In particular, he remembered seeing Mace Windu and Oppo Rancisis for the very first time.
The second was his fourteenth birthday, and one that he remembered with much more clarity. It wasn't long after Qui-Gon had taken him as his apprentice, and their relationship was still very tumultuous. Obi-Wan felt that with even the slightest mistake or miscalculation, he would be cast from the Jedi Master's tutelage, and Qui Gon himself exuded a certain muted sense of constant distaste for his Padawan Learner, that, while it had been stifled with time, had never ceased to torment the young Padawan in his care. Yet it was on that particular birthday that those feelings of apprehension began to abate, as Qui-Gon hesitantly recognized the event with a small, yet extraordinarily meaningful gift.
The third…
Obi-Wan sighed deeply, taking another drink of his tea, this time slowl,y taking the time to savor the blend of herbs and spices that assaulted his taste buds as the tepid liquid traveled back towards his throat, warming him as he swallowed. He licked his lips in thought, lapping gracefully away any trace of the beverage, though there was no guest present to warrant such a social nicety so early in the morning.
The third birthday he recalled was his seventeenth, and it brought him to a juncture of great emotional conflict. He smiled at the fond memories the day brought him, yet fought the tightness in his chest and the dryness in his mouth as tear pricked his eyes at the pain that accompanied the distant recollections.
He breathed deeply, having resolved some time ago that depressing reminiscing should be reserved for after sunrise, and released the offending feelings into the Force with relief. The present was most important now. The present was what mattered.
Speaking of the present…
Today was, indeed, his Padawan's birthday. He meant to give Anakin a gift for the occasion. And he was uncertain that the small token he had planned to bestow upon the boy was a proper favor.
Obi-Wan could still feel the joy that had ransacked his being when Qui-Gon, his seemingly callous and resentful Master, had given him the beautifully carved stone collected from the sages on Triton on the eve of his fourteenth birthday. It had been an awkward exchange, he remembered, but the Jedi Master had displayed, beyond any doubt, that he cared for the young man in his charge, and for the first time he could remember, Obi-Wan had felt truly loved. He'd never known the love of a blood relation, such as a mother or father, and while the Jedi were his family without question, he knew that the relationship between a Master and a Padawan was something sacred, something to be revered. And in that instant as he accepted the treasure with Qui-Gon's solemn whispers of its origins and significance, he felt all of the insecurity of his apprenticeship melt away, and finally knew that he was where he belonged. It was a feeling that even now managed to get him through the more difficult days with his own young charge.
He wanted that for Anakin. He wanted to express to the boy what he couldn't bring himself to say – that the young man mattered to him, that he was important, and that Obi-Wan was proud of his progress. That he wasn't a burden or an obligation to the older Jedi. Given the strange and complicated circumstances that had led to their partnership, Obi-Wan knew that their relationship with tremulous. Anakin thought and acted in ways very unbefitting of a Jedi at times, due to his upbringing outside of the Temple, and Obi-Wan did not know how to properly fulfil the boy's unique requirements. There was tension, and there was frustration, but Obi-Wan wanted to convey once and for all to his Padawan that, through it all, he cared for him.
And so the only appropriate gift he could think of was the same stylized gemstone that Qui-Gon had given him so many years ago.
Obi-Wan toyed with the rock, smoothing it over the pads of his fingers as he drifted into a state of deep contemplation, bringing his tea to his mouth again and drinking deeply.
Anakin left his room some hours later, after passing the time in the dark in order to avoid suspicion at his early rising. He found the small apartment empty, a fact that disappointed him greatly, but the delectable sent that wafted from the kitchen area tempted him to continue forth and ascertain its origin.
He found a plate of fresh berries with pancakes, and the bread that Obi-Wan sometimes made that looked similar to a dew cake that he liked so much, with a dollop of rich cream to the side and a cup of Hot Chocolate. It was a collection of edible treats he had never been able to indulge in all at once before, and he was anxious to inhale the foods before him with all haste.
Before doing so, however, he saw the note upon the table near his breakfast tray, weighted down by a gorgeous gem of the most vibrant jade color. It was etched with numerous symbols and characters, appearing as a tribal emblem of some sort as he turned it in his hands, studying its intricacies with fascination, and recognizing the strangely significant aura it exuded in the Force. Finally, he replaced the stone and picked up the letter.
Anakin,
Happy Birthday. I am sorry to have had to leave so early, but the Council wished to speak to me about our upcoming mission, and I was requested to meet with them immediately. Enjoy your breakfast, but make certain you are on time for your classes.
Just like Obi-Wan, thought Anakin fondly of his very proper and by-the-books Master as he continued to read -
This was a gift from my Master to me some years ago – a ritual stone from the Tritonite Sages, meant to be carved to promote serenity and provide protection. I thought it most appropriate; perhaps someday you'll see why.
The note was unsigned, but Anakin didn't need the formality. He knew, and that was enough.
'This isn't happening; this isn't happening…' He repeated the mantra to himself, the words resonating hollowly upon the walls of his mind, as if even in his own imagination he could not wish the painful truth away. He fingered the emerald Tritonite slab that hung around his neck from a worn leather cord, hoping that the familiar stone would give him the strength to deal with his surroundings.
As Anakin looked on at his ailing Master, lying motionless upon the bed in the Healers Ward, his Life Force slight and almost nonexistent, he could not keep the tears from his eyes. He could not fathom how his legs had supported him as he crossed the room to Obi-Wan's bedside, his eyes never leaving the unnaturally frail-looking form of the man before him.
He dropped helplessly to his knees, trembling as he hit the cold, unforgiving tile floor. One hand shot out shakily to ghost along Obi-Wan's jawbone, and when the skin his fingertips encountered was frigid and waxen, the tremors only intensified. The young Knight squeezed his eyes tightly shut, unable to face the reality before him, and absolutely unwilling to accept it as truth.
"This isn't happening…" Anakin whispered desperately into Obi-Wan's palm as he brought the unconscious man's hand to his cheek, clutching his wrist as if in doing so, he could tether the Jedi Master's soul to the world of the living.
"This isn't happening…"
