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"Just rest now." Mace patted Obi-Wan on the leg. An amused smile played over Obi-Wan's lips as the Jedi left his room.
He could easily shock three quarters of the Temple if he chose, but he knew no one in the Temple would believe him should Obi-Wan be brazen enough to tell anyone Mace Windu could hover like a concerned Crèche Master. Ignoring his protestations, Mace had wrapped an arm around him and practically hauled him back to his room.
The stern Jedi master rarely known to crack a smile had proven far more human than any padawan would ever believe, and probably most knights.
He had insisted the healers run tests to check Obi-Wan's equilibrium, tests finally completed. The young Jedi had thought it was silly, himself; obviously he had merely stumbled, nearly falling flat on his nose like the clumsy oaf he had once been known as. Even a Jedi, even one usually as graceful as he, made missteps from time to time. It hadn't made a bit of difference what he thought.
"Now, you just rest Obi-Wan – no getting out of that bed."
"Yes, Master Windu." He might have meekly agreed, but it was honestly funny and even rather touching how Mace had helped him settle comfortably in bed, saw to it that he had something light to read, and tucked him in.
Had Mace known of his occasional bouts of dizziness or nausea, Obi-Wan had no doubt he'd have been strapped in place or had all his clothing hidden so he could not escape his room.
This, though, hadn't been one of those times. He had tripped, plain and simple. His vision hadn't been blurred, by headache or tears; his bruised hip had supported his weight.
No doubt his equilibrium was merely disturbed from facing the man who had made a promise to see him to knighthood only to set him aside to fulfill a later promise, to another boy, that he would be raised to knighthood as well.
Promises were as nothing set against the Will of the Force.
He had thought the bitter anger and contempt had leached away, a mere aberration born of disappointment. He had seen regret seep into the blue eyes before it, too, slipped away and the eyes of the man who had raised him had become the eyes of a man who seemed to see only a stranger.
His fingers twitched in time to the throbbing of his head, diverting his thoughts away from his inner pain to his physical pain.
He was no stranger to pain; no Jedi was. This pain beat under his skin and in his blood, it soured his stomach.
Be that as it may, whatever else he knew, he knew he was not well in a way he had never been unwell before. His head throbbed as if something was trapped within and sought escape. Should it succeed, it would fundamentally alter his tentative acceptance of his new circumstances; quite possibly upset his emotional equilibrium so that he could not function at all.
Until he had some answers, he wanted no more questions.
He sighed and passed a hand over his chin, he just wished he were well enough to be of some good. It irked him, lying abed while others restored Naboo. Headaches or illness, he was capable of helping in some small way – of feeling useful rather than useless.
No one really knew how deep the damage was to a mind all but torn asunder. Not even Obi-Wan knew, for in a sense he was a prisoner in his own body, unable to touch the Force, to explore and perhaps to help heal from the inside.
Ouch!
Obi-Wan winced and rubbed his head. The pain in his head was growing more insistent each hour and had been since he went to see his former master.
He had agreed to Qui-Gon's request because hadn't wanted to leave things between them as they had been, or as it turned out, ended. He had hoped in his heart of hearts that they could both reach past the words, the silences, and the hurts to find healing, though how that would be truly possible with his fate uncertain, he didn't know.
Anakin, however, stood between them.
He always would, Obi-Wan knew now. Even if the Council didn't yet know it, the boy would be trained for he had to be trained. There was no way a boy of such raw, natural talent would be left as easy prey now that the Sith had reemerged.
His future was the one now in doubt. The Force still eluded his grasp. Even should someone step forward to complete his training, something he thought unlikely, he didn't think a new training bond could be completed at his age, especially after the savaging of the one he had once shared with Qui-Gon.
He had already let go of Qui-Gon. One could not hold onto something that did not wish to be held, it only withered and died in captivity. He supposed in time he could learn to let go of his dream to be a Jedi knight; that dream was no longer his to hold onto.
It was strangely fitting that he would finally learn to be Jedi by letting go of his dream to be Jedi.
In time.
"Young Kenobi over your own feet you should not trip," was Yoda's greeting to him some time later. The little Jedi smiled and hopped up to sit at his side.
"Oafy-Wan merely stumbled again," he murmured. He colored at Yoda's stare, for the epithet had been an insult years ago. It was not something he was apt to remember fondly, let alone appropriate for his own use. "Sometimes the best way to disarm something is to make it your own."
A gentle smile of understanding creased Yoda's ancient face.
"Wise you are, Obi-Wan. Words have meaning but meanings reside in the mind. Change the response and the shared meaning of language can change as well. A powerful tool you have discovered; serve you well in the future it will." He gazed at the young man and then tapped him with a gentle finger. "The entire Council will be here soon, along with a Jedi healer. Up to speaking before all will you be?"
He pondered the question. Now that he thought of it, he hadn't really spoken of everything to anyone. He remembered disjointed bits and pieces pouring out of him shortly after he had collapsed. He had been rather a mess then.
He laced his fingers and nodded. "I – believe so." After a moment, he quietly asked, "What exactly does the Temple know?"
The wizened face again creased in a soft smile. "Know they do that alive but hurt you and Master Jinn are and that Naboo is now free, young one. Just spoken to your friends I have and greetings they send to you – nearly asked me to give you a hug on her behalf did young Bant." Yoda leaned forward and patted Obi-Wan's knee.
"Oh, dear Force," Obi-Wan breathed, nearly inaudibly. How could Bant be so audacious as to ask Yoda something like that? Because Bant is your friend and she would dare much to comfort a friend. If he closed his eyes, he could almost feel her arms around him.
Still smiling, his eyes popped open to see Yoda calmly gazing back at him.
Nearly asked, however, so she had not, yet the message had been delivered with some connivance by the grand master of the Order himself. Obi-Wan's grin broadened.
"I don't think even she would actually dare make such a request of you, Master Yoda; your stew is notorious."
"Likes my stew Bant does. It's humans such as you that have no taste for it." Yoda's eyes sparkled with his merriment, echoing Obi-Wan's own.
The gentle banter felt good. Yoda's stew was very real and very awful. Jokes abounded about it, though few felt free to disparage it in Yoda's presence. Obi-Wan was one of the few to dare. It had earned him a "brave, this young one is" and a pat on the head when he was still about the same height as Yoda.
As to hugs, few Jedi indulged in physical gestures of affection, preferring more subtle and less visible means. Obi-Wan remembered many a soft brushing of the Force around him as a crechling and a young initiate, many from Yoda himself. It wouldn't surprise him if Yoda hadn't just now sent a gentle Force caress across his mind, though he couldn't feel it.
Like so much else, he had lost the ability to feel the Force wrap around him just as he had lost the ability to reach out and touch it.
"Feel nothing do you?" Yoda's ears twitched.
"No." He pulled his knees up to his chest and shook his head. He had been right. Yoda had sensed his feelings and attempted to sooth him, but it was all for naught.
The Force had truly left him.
A content Qui-Gon was lying propped up against his pillows, the boy Anakin curled up at his side. It was a touching picture, but distressing to the Jedi master who now stood in the doorway. Such visible affection had rarely been granted to the padawan who had equally deserved it and whose own affections were freely bestowed.
It had been Obi-Wan's devotion to the Jedi master, based on nothing but faith in the Force and hope that it would be repaid at some date in the future, that had finally cracked through to the master's core and liberated both his heart and his spirit so many years before. His faith had been repaid in time: the boy's insecurities as to his place both with his master and the Jedi had been released.
Master and Padawan had done much to heal each other and to make them one of the most effective teams the Order had seen in years.
Now, not for the first time Yoda wondered at how the Jedi master could be so enchanted, so enthralled with a boy he had known but days, so much so that he would so easily dismiss his padawan after so many years. Such open and effusive behavior was not in character for the man, no matter his enthusiasm to embrace all things new – regard and compassion were to be expected, but not this – not this behavior at all.
He studied the boy. Powerful indeed he was, far more powerful than a mere boy should be, especially one untrained.
His anger and arrogance were unchecked. His open disrespect towards Obi-Wan, his dismissal of all but Qui-Gon or the Naboo was marked – was such fear, fear that the new life offered him would be denied? Qui-Gon had had no right to tell the boy he would be trained and to raise his hopes. It was only natural that the boy would wish to stay close to the man who had freed him, but the space next to him had still been occupied.
Fear and anger, aggression, all could be curbed and tamed under the control of the mind, finally to be released to the Force. Had not the padawan a room away finally learned that lesson, as did all Jedi – was not the journey to that point just a parallel journey to the rank of knight?
It was clear that affection and gaiety were present in equal measure in the boy. There was hope for him. Clouded his future might be, but not certain.
There was much indeed to meditate on. The boy's future, as well as that of the young man's a room away. Each was just one of several things Yoda wished to discuss with the rest of the Council. At this moment he only wished to speak to the boy, to merely converse and find out his dreams and his hopes, not just his fears.
A genteel cough marked his presence. "May I speak with the young one, Master Qui-Gon?"
"My name is Anakin," the young boy shot back spiritedly. "I destroyed the Trade Federation command ship; I'm not a kid."
"Young you are to one who is in his mid-eight-hundreds," Yoda replied, unperturbed. The boy's eyes widened. "Master Qui-Gon, he too is young to me. Be not so quick to jump to conclusions, young Anakin Skywalker."
The boy's eyes turned uncertainly to Qui-Gon, who smiled and nodded. "When you're my age, you will learn to appreciate being called 'young,' Ani. I'm sure Master Yoda meant no harm. You may wish to show him just a bit more respect – since he is eight hundred or so years old."
The boy ducked his head and offered a shy smile.
"If you don't mind, young one, I wished to hear your story of the part you played in liberating Naboo. Of immense assistance you were; saved many Gungan lives you did when the droids were left powerless. Tell me your story, will you?"
The boy beamed as Qui-Gon ruffled his hair with a fond hand. "Yeah, I was a big hero. Qui-Gon ordered me to hide…."
Yoda listened, nodding ever so gently. It was a remarkable story. The boy had not really known what he was doing at any point, yet he had somehow managed to do all the right things and not kill himself in the process. The Force had indeed been with him. It would not be wise to leave such a one free for the plucking. Not with the Sith once more a threat.
"…and the best part was Padmé's hug when she found out what I'd done." The boy quickly sobered and looked at Qui-Gon. "But you almost died, Master Qui-Gon, because that one just wasn't good enough to be there when you needed him."
"Shh, Ani, I'm fine. He did his best, I'm sure…mistakes happen. He won't lose his focus like that again."
"What if he does? I don't want anything to happen to you, Master Qui-Gon."
"Nothing will happen to me, Ani, I promise. Forget about Obi-Wan - you're my padawan now and I know I can count on you to protect my back."
Yoda's eyes curled disconsolately. From what he had heard via Mace it didn't seem any blame attached to the padawan. Each Jedi had fallen and each Jedi had picked himself up. In the ebb and flow of a battle, anything could happen and usually could be counted on to do so.
Both Jedi had survived. The Sith, as he now seemed all but certain, had not. That was success enough.
Qui-Gon might wish to believe, and allow young Anakin to believe, that Obi-Wan had done nothing to help earn that fortuitous outcome. Why, he did not know.
He and Mace both had spoken to the Queen, to her handmaidens and the ship's crew, to all those who knew at least a piece of the story. One of the best master-padawan teams the Order had seen in years had been in disharmony until the assault on Theed's palace. The rift had been healed, then, master and padawan in accord.
What then had fractured their relationship? It all traced back to the encounter with the Sith.
Together the Jedi had faced their opponent; together they had advanced and together they had last been seen. That was the point where their stories diverged, and there were no witnesses beyond that point in time.
Yet in all but motivation and observations, the stories were in agreement about the course of the battle. Qui-Gon had noted Obi-Wan's lapse of focus and Obi-Wan had noted the same about Qui-Gon in return, with the added mention that his master's waver of attention had seemed to center about the boy's safety. Coincidentally, as nearly as could be pinpointed, these lapses had occurred at times the threat to the boy had been highest, lending credence to the padawan's observations.
Until both Jedi were recovered and of clear mind to speak in full detail, Yoda was determined to let events take their own course unless the Force demanded otherwise.
So if Qui-Gon wished not to disabuse Anakin of Obi-Wan's equally important role in the fight, Yoda would not interfere. Let the boy think that Obi-Wan had done nothing of note.
He had only saved Qui-Gon's life at nearly the cost to his own. It seemed no one acknowledged that simple and elemental truth, especially not the one whose life had been saved.
Who had the Force truly been with that day?
Chapter 11. What is Past is Past