Four years later

Newly-Knighted Obi-Wan Kenobi walked through the halls of the Temple in a daze.

One week ago, he had been a Padawan.

One week ago, he had had a Master.

It was still so hard for him to believe Qui-Gon was gone. His Master had died in his arms. The grey-haired old Jedi had and urged him to do his duty, protecting the young Queen, but Obi-Wan hadn't been able to bear the thought of leaving him.

Qui-Gon's smile was pained, but genuine. "Ah, Padawan. So stubborn." There had been a twinkle in his eye – was he trying to make Obi-Wan laugh? It was the last thing he felt like doing. Obi-Wan stared into Qui-Gon's eyes, desperately willing him to survive.

Qui-Gon's hand found his, and he squeezed it gently. That was wrong, Qui-Gon was strong. Is strong. "I am... so... proud... of you, Obi-Wan." The words were forced out between wheezing breaths. "You will be the best Knight. I only wish... I could be there... to... see... it."

"Master –" What could he say to that? Don't die? He could hear Qui-Gon's voice in his head, reciting old lessons: This is the will of the Force.

"Let the Force guide you, Obi-Wan." With one last smile (if they were not Jedi, you would think it full of love, but Jedi do not feel), Qui-Gon Jinn closed his eyes. His hand, grasping Obi-Wan's, went limp. Obi-Wan felt the life leave his Master's form, felt the calm acceptance of the Force.

That was the last time he'd felt calmness in the Force. He had had difficulty meditating since then. Grief was clouding his mind, he knew, but he hadn't found a way to let it go yet.

It was un-Jedi-like to wallow. Qui-Gon would be ashamed of him.

He shook his head, trying to banish the thought, and looked up to see where his unheeded feet had taken him.

Jedi Knight or not, he almost turned and ran when he realised where he was.

The Room of a Thousand Fountains.

The room itself was huge, with many entrances dotted all over the walls. But he had brought himself to the entrance Qui-Gon had favoured. It was near to the old master's favourite meditation spot – a moss-covered island in a quiet stream – but not so near as to preclude the possibility of a relaxing walk. Finding himself here again brought a flood of memories and emotions flooding back to Obi-Wan, which he dutifully released into the Force. He had no trouble with that, somehow. It was just the deep, quiet grief which he couldn't seem to get free of.

Instead of running, Obi-Wan turned slowly, and walked at a pace befitting a Jedi Knight.

Straight into a Youngling.

Obi-Wan staggered back a step, blinking as the blond-haired Youngling darted back, completely balanced and seemingly unruffled by the barely-avoided collision.

"Sorry, Master. I wasn't paying attention." Blue eyes smiled at him from a round, happy face. As he watched, the sheepish smile flickered, replaced by surprised recognition. Then the youngling bowed. By the time he straightened himself again, the recognition was gone.

"Do I know you, Initiate?"

There was a slight widening of the eyes, and an echo of surprise in the Force. "No, Master."

And then Obi-Wan realised a more likely possibility, and almost groaned. The Jedi were the worst gossips in the galaxy, he was sure. Had word already spread that he'd killed the Sith? That would be a good reason for the youngling recognising him. He silently braced himself for awkward questions.

The youngling tilted his head a little, studying him. Suddenly, quietly, he said, "I'm sorry about your Master." There was genuine compassion in the young voice, which took Obi-Wan by surprise.

"Thank you."

The youngling smiled at him, a smile that spoke of sympathy. "May the Force be with you." He bowed again, and walked past Obi-Wan into the Room of a Thousand Fountains.

Obi-Wan turned, watching him go. "Youngling," he called out just before the boy moved out of sight, "what is your name?"

The smile he received was surprisingly shy. "Anakin Skywalker."

A/N: So that took a while, didn't it?