Qui-Gon

I had spent much time studying the Whills and thought I was prepared for the shift into life in the Force. I hadn't had time enough to entirely prepare, so I expected to become a mere observer, no longer a participant in the lives of those I loved. Any influence I would have on those still living would be filtered through the Force itself, according to its will.

Nothing in my studies had prepared me for the pain transitioning from physical life to life in the Force. I hadn't expected this – stab of pain in my middle. I groaned, and a strong hand clasped one of mine – warm, comforting, and all too real.

"Shhhh…you're badly hurt. Lie still; try to release the pain into the Force." The voice was strangely familiar, yet different. It sounded like Obi-Wan, but with a subtle maturity about it that was new and tender concern.

"What…why?" I tried to whisper, my hand reaching out blindly and connecting with his face. His callused hand was laid over mine and I could feel the muscles of his jaw work under my palm as he smiled. I felt the soft silk of whiskers underneath my hand and was surprised to feel them.

Had we both died, then, or did we both live?

"Dead?" I had trouble forming the words. "We're both dead?"

A soft chuckle preceded his words. "No, Master. You were almost killed...but you survived. Thank the Force, you survived. Not without a huge hole in you, but I prefer that to the huge hole in my heart that was the alternative."

Ah, a pathetic attempt at humor from my padawan, but heartfelt.

I struggled to open my eyes and saw a blurry, smiling face leaning over me, soft tears being blinked away. I reached a finger to his lashes and brushed one away.

"Too many," I whispered hoarsely. I saw he didn't understand. "Tears – too many. Been…too many."

"It's okay, there's plenty more where these came from," Obi-Wan said, trying to grin, as he dashed the back of his hand across his eyes. "The supply is not limited."

My eyes were focusing a bit now, and I saw his blood shot eyes, the stubble on his face, the general air of untidiness that surrounded him. Despite all this, he looked – older, calmer, and complete. He looked – like a knight, his own man now, confident and strong in his abilities.

I remembered he had battled a Sith, alone, after my injury – and I had thought he had died doing so. I had seen him, flying over the edge of the pit into certain death. At that moment, I remembered I had welcomed my own death, for I would be reunited with Obi-Wan forever, in the Force.

"You're not dead!" I exclaimed, remembering his tumble. I tried to sit up, to wrap both hands around his face, but he shook his head and pushed me back down against the pillow with a gentle hand. He did allow me to grab one of his hands and hold it tight between mine.

"I saw you get thrown," I said haltingly. "I knew you were dead, and I wanted nothing more from life but to join you in death, in the Force. Padawan, you have no idea how incredibly painful it was to have just found you, only to lose you. And then, when I was letting go, you took me in your arms and I knew you were alive."

Yes, I had seen him die, and then I had felt his arms tender around me. It was coming back. My padawan had survived his encounter with the Sith, and had saved me. He had willed strength, and the will to live, back into my body. He had cried for me.

"And I, you," he breathed, and I felt the shudder within him.

"You are the reason I live, Obi-Wan, shhh…," I silenced his soft words of denial, "I couldn't leave you again, not again, not so soon after finding you."

"What about young Anakin?" His tone was softly teasing, and I knew he wasn't jealous. My padawan knew nothing of such emotions, I thought. It was possible - perhaps he had been, once, but if so he would have recognized and quickly released such an emotion. "He is, after all, your Chosen One."

"I would have left him to your care," I said. "A sign of my love for you, and the trust I have in you. My confidence in your abilities, padawan mine."

All this talk was clearing the hazy edges of my memories, and I winced in recollection. Obi-Wan settled me back on the pillow with a worried frown, but I waved him away, for I was not in physical pain. I had just thought of the ramifications of what I had just remembered – we had fought a Sith, and Obi-Wan had obviously killed him, to be sitting by my side.

As a Jedi, and as a slave no doubt, he had seen many terrible things. He had seen the results of greed and anger, he had seen death and destruction, and he had been forced to wield his lightsaber in defense of innocent beings.

But Obi-Wan had never been forced to kill a living being before this, and I knew his heart must be uneasy, for the knowledge that one has taken the life of another is not an easy burden to bear. Even for a Jedi.

"The Sith?"

He bowed his head.

"Dead," he said softly and a small flicker of pain came through the Force. I understood. Obi-Wan had no regrets, but he regretted the necessity of taking a life. It was the first sentient life he had taken, and I had not been there to help him deal with it. No matter our training, killing another living being was not easy to face; I ached at being absent when he needed me.

"Don't be," he said, as if picking up on my sorrow. "Master Yoda and I spoke about it."

I was grateful for that. There was some kind of bond between my padawan and Yoda. I had never been jealous of it for it merely complemented the bond between Obi-Wan and I. It was a bond born of affection and trust, and I was always half surprised that Obi-Wan had no such bond with many others, for my padawan's trust and affection were freely bestowed on so many.

"Good," I said weakly. "So you're handling it okay?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "There were no options. It had to be done." I saw a muscle twitch in his jaw, but he otherwise showed no emotion. I didn't know if he had truly released his emotion into the Force, or had just shoved it inside as he worried about me. I would have to speak to him later, when I had the strength to do so.

Obi-Wan seemed to know that I was still concerned, and he smoothly deflected the talk away from such troubling memories. He advised that the entire Jedi Council had come to Naboo to pursue this talk of a Sith and were anxious to see me.

He suddenly smiled, and asked if I felt up to seeing someone. I nodded, and Obi-Wan helped raise me against my pillows and straightened the bedding about me. He again clasped my hand in his, before he went to the door and disappeared out it.

I took advantage of his absence to look around me. I was lying in a standard medical bed, several machines hooked up to me, and I realized I was in a hospital. It wasn't the Jedi Temple's healers ward, so it had to be a medical center in Theed, on Naboo.

Nearby, next to the machine keeping track of my heart beat – I was alive, it said, and I grinned in amused agreement - stood a little green plant struggling to live, green shoots reaching towards the light and the soft buds of new leaves starting to form. I found it strangely cheering.

It looked much as I felt, a wounded life seeking to renew itself. Obi-Wan. I knew who placed the plant there, and I was touched at my padawan's thoughtfulness. Anyone else would have found a plant already rich and full in life.

Only Obi-Wan would find a wounded and determined life to place at my side. Together, we would fight and together we would give each other strength.

I lifted the sheet and winced at the bandage covering my chest. It spanned quite an area. I gingerly touched the bandage. I decided that was not such a good idea, for it ached abominably as I did so. I had been impaled by the Sith's lightsaber; I must have had more drugs in me than – than there were midichlorians in Anakin!

I suddenly wondered how long I had been lying here, but before I could explore that idea much further, the door to the room opened.

Obi-Wan was ushering in Anakin, his hands firm on the boy's shoulders and I smiled at the sight, for I so wanted the two of them to get along.

Anakin glanced over his shoulder at my padawan, and Obi-Wan smiled encouragingly at him and gave him a little shove towards me. Acting protectively, I noticed, and Anakin was looking to him for reassurance. I felt relieved that this young boy, among strangers, was well tended.

"Come here, Ani," I said. "It does my heart good to see you."

"Qui-Gon, sir," he gulped and came to my bedside. Obi-Wan drew up a chair and gently pushed Anakin into it, leaned over and whispered something in his ear. Anakin grinned, and his fears seemed to fall away.

"Obi-Wan said you were skewered by that Sith," he said with all the excitement a young boy might have, without a thought of censoring his thoughts as he spoke them. Obi-Wan winced at his words, but I merely winked at him.

"This bandage appears to confirm his diagnosis," I said with a chuckle. "It apparently missed everything vital, since I'm lying here with two worried faces looking at me."

"I'm not worried," Anakin said stoutly. "He is, though," and he nodded to Obi-Wan.

The look my padawan shot at Anakin seemed to say: And you weren't? Anakin stared calmly back, not giving anything away. I chuckled weakly at the byplay.

"Not any longer, Master," Obi-Wan assured me, shaking his head at Anakin. "The healers say you'll recover just fine, but you were on the edge for a while. I was – a bit concerned – for the longest time."

"Liar," I said affectionately, calling him on his understatement. I had heard the barely concealed tremor in his voice. "You probably haven't eaten or slept, which is why you look exhausted and worn out, not to mention – a right mess."

As expected, Obi-Wan's hands went to smooth his tunic and he looked startled, then he relaxed and grinned at me, saying nonchalantly that he supposed so. I raised an eyebrow at how calmly he took that – he of the constant need to be neat and tidy.

"I will go clean myself up to my master's satisfaction," he said wryly, "and leave you two to get caught up." He looked at me and I could see in his eyes that he felt Anakin needed to talk with me and he was looking for an excuse to leave the two of us alone. He patted my hand and left.

"So, Ani," I smiled at him. "How are you doing?"

"Great! They're calling me the Hero of Naboo," he burst out, just bubbling with excitement. I raised an eyebrow; Obi-Wan and I had left him hiding in a ship in the Theed hangar while the Naboo battled to retake the Palace, and Obi-Wan and I had confronted the Sith.

"I destroyed the Droid Control ship, and because of me, Naboo is free," he declared proudly. "The Queen – Padme – is awfully proud of me, even if Obi-Wan wasn't pleased when he first found out."

"Why ever not?" I hid a smile at the look on his face.

"'Cuz you told me to stay hidden and out of the fight. He thought I disobeyed you, and he told me that is not how a Jedi should behave." He frowned; then just as suddenly beamed. "But he decided I wasn't a Jedi, at least not yet, and I saved everybody, so he decided not to be upset with me. 'Specially when I told him what happened."

Anakin squirmed a little.

I was amused. Obi-Wan had occasionally disobeyed my orders when he became aware of some need to act contrary to them, based on new information he had that I had not been aware of. That sounded like him, a reaction tempered by new knowledge that caused him to revise his first opinion. My padawan never felt locked into a decision when new information caused him to revise his first opinion.

"So he's being nice to you," I nodded, not that I doubted it. I did wonder if Obi-Wan had kept his usual distance, or had tried to unbend sufficiently to make Anakin feel at ease. When Anakin cocked his head to one side, thinking, I thought, "oh, oh."

"He's been nice enough to me," Anakin said slowly as if thinking hard. "But he's not you, or like Mom – but he tries hard. He's okay, I guess."

I snorted with laughter at Anakin's assessment of my padawan. It was a start, at least. I wouldn't be surprised if Obi-Wan thought the same of Anakin. Both of them were alike in many ways, so different in others.

One of the more interesting differences was their individual connection to the Force. Obi-Wan's midi-chlorian count would indicate that he would be a less effective user of the Force, while Anakin's extreme count could easily turn him into the most powerful Force user, perhaps ever. His connection was pure, and without effort.

Obi-Wan had worked hard to overcome his – I hated to call it a limitation – genetically lesser connection. His dedication and hard work made him more skilled than those with inherently greater gifts, in my opinion. Obi-Wan was proof positive that it wasn't one's natural abilities, but the exercise of those abilities that determined one's greatness.

Obi-Wan would be a great Jedi, for he had the heart, the wisdom and the dedication of a Jedi. Perfect, no. Not a perfect Jedi and not a perfect man. But a good Jedi and a good man. I foresaw him taking his place amongst the greatest of Jedi, a symbol of what one should aspire to be.

"So, Hero of Naboo, tell me how you destroyed the Droid Control ship," I said, leaning back and fixing my eyes on Anakin's blue eyes. I listened, amused, as he rattled on, telling me how he accidentally hit the wrong controls as he tried to take out the droidekas in the hangar, landed within the Droid Control ship, blasted the energy core and managed to return to Theed safely.

"I'm proud of you, Anakin," I said as he finished. His eyes shone brightly and he beamed as only a young boy could. He absolutely thrived on praise and acknowledgement, I realized.

The door opened and I saw Obi-Wan standing against the door jam, arms crossed and a smile on his face. He had washed and shaved, and dressed in clean clothes. My eyes went to his, and I smiled at him.

"Our young hero here has told me how he saved everyone," I said proudly, my hand resting over Anakin's. Obi-Wan's eyes dropped to it and he hid a grin, and he shook his head in mock dismay.

"He will be a very powerful Jedi. I'm very proud of him, but I hear you were less than thrilled," I teased him. Obi-Wan slightly grimaced as if I had reprimanded him, his eyes darkening. "He saved everyone, and you didn't like it."

"No, Master!" he protested, his eyes wide with shock, and I realized I had phrased my sentence badly. He seemed to realize, for he took a breath before continuing.

"He hadn't obeyed your orders to stay hidden and protected, and that was why I was upset. What if he had been killed or hurt – I knew how badly you would take it. He was lucky. He's just a boy."

"I'm not – I'm a hero," Anakin said sullenly, thrusting out his lower lip and glaring at my padawan.

Obi-Wan looked at me and rolled his eyes, making sure Anakin couldn't see him, before turning to look at Anakin.

"Yes, you were. Things would have gone badly for the Gungans had that droid control ship not been destroyed," my padawan agreed, but I could see the thought in his mind: pure luck. His words seemed to mollify Anakin, and he brightened back up.

"Anakin, I think you've tired out Qui-Gon. Let's let him rest," Obi-Wan suggested. He watched Anakin leave, and turned back to face me, solemn suddenly. He hesitated as if unsure how I'd react to his words, but determined to speak them anyway.

"Master, I…," he started; then gave a little shake of his head as I stared encouragingly at him. "I just want to say that you deserve to be called a hero, too. All the attention has been focused on Anakin, and, well, I think you're one, too." He smiled suddenly and turned to leave.

"Obi-Wan!" I said firmly, and he hesitated and looked over his shoulder.

"You're one, too."

He shrugged diffidently. "Not really, Master. I – almost lost control there. I almost failed you – my training, and then I wasn't at your side when you needed me. You might have died, for I was not at your side where I belonged. I lost my focus. I am sorry." His voice sounded strained and his eyes blinked apologetically at me.

He had been knocked out of the fight at least twice, and I at least once before the almost fatal blow I took. Battle was like that: unpredictable. My poor padawan thought he had erred; had let me down. He had to understand that was not so.

Even more hurtful to him was this fear he harbored of not controlling his emotion in battle. That was perhaps potentially more damaging than his fear of letting me down – it was a fear of letting himself, the Jedi, and the Force down as well. We both had known rage was an emotion sometimes triggered within him and something we had to disarm, so he could act from a position of strength and calm. I saw that he had; he was too close to it to see it.

He saw only his slide to his rage; I saw his wrestling control of it.

"Oh, Obi-Wan," my voice was a whisper. "Come here, padawan mine."

He came slowly, and stood by my side. I reached for his hand, and his hand extended to meet mine automatically. I wrapped my hand around his and looked him in the eyes. This was important. He had to know what I knew. He needed to understand it, in his heart.

'You felt hate and rage, but you didn't give in to them. It's okay to feel fear at how close you came to giving in to them. But you didn't give in to them. You centered yourself, Obi-Wan, you let it go. You are a Jedi, and I am proud of you. So don't doubt yourself, please."

I saw the hidden misery in Obi-Wan's eyes and I pulled him down beside him.

"Obi-Wan," I said softly, and reached out through our bond, speaking to him in a way that was incapable of deception or shaded truths. He acquiesced as both our shields dropped and we met mind to mind. After a few minutes, I nodded softly as Obi-Wan sighed.

He now knew, as he would never have been so sure before, that he hadn't failed. Sometimes, mere words alone didn't suffice. Even Yoda's gentle counsel hadn't quite banished his fear, for Yoda could only have offered words of support, words that would reach his mind, but would not ease his heart.

"You're okay, now." I smiled at him, as he nodded. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He looked startled, then sheepish. "There was no rush, and I was more concerned with you. Yes, the entire Council has arrived and is much concerned with this dead Sith."

I wrapped my hand around his braid, so lovingly rewoven mere days ago and gave it a little tug. "It'll look good on my wall," I said musingly. "Now I have to hurry my recovery. I don't want Yoda to grow tired of waiting, and whack that off himself."

"It stays on until you remove it, Master," my padawan said firmly.

"Then I shall speed my recovery, for I now have the greatest incentive to get well. I have so looked forward to standing at your side, Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi."

He dropped to his knees on the floor at my side and laid both his hands over mine.

"Thank you for all your guidance, my master. All that I am I owe to you." He tried to smile; he was holding in strong emotion, then he gave a slight shrug and with an embarrassed grin, wrapped his arms around me carefully and whispered, "MasterYoda says he'll bust me back to padawan if you don't recover."

"That old troll never said that," I chortled, a smile breaking over my face as I hugged him back, before I slid back down into the bed, flinching a bit at the movement. I yawned.

"Oh, and Anakin – it wasn't luck, padawan mine. It was the Force. He has powerful instincts. Trust him."

"I'm proud…so proud of you," I murmured, as I dropped off to sleep.