Chapter 34. Sticks and Stones Can Break Bones

"He's out of the insane asylum," Anakin announced casually, walking into his quarters.

"Padawan." Qui-Gon reproved the words automatically

The boy just shrugged. "It's the truth, Master. The whole Temple knows he's not right in the head."

"I – wasn't aware of that bit of Temple gossip." He rubbed his brow. Thoughts of Obi-Wan were pushed aside when they surfaced – had been, ever since feeling the bright Force presence of his padawan – of the Chosen One, there on Tatooine. He hadn't cared to think of his then current padawan since the Council had so rebuffed him, and because of that, he had known but little of Obi-Wan in weeks.

"He has no access to the Force," Mace said evenly. "Did you not know this? You would, had you cared to ask. He was, after all, your padawan at the time of his injury."

He had not known this.

No, he had not cared to know too much. What he did care for was this boy in front of him – but perhaps, in not knowing much about the former padawan's current activities, he was neglecting the current one by not seeing how the former one affected him in ways both large and small.

A finger snaked up to rub his forehead. His head always ached when thoughts of Obi-Wan intruded, one reason of many he preferred not to.

"Has he said anything to you – hurt you?"

Anakin shook his head, the bright light of speculation within his eyes. "He didn't see me, don't worry, Master, he was leaving an initiate training class. He was with Master Windu and for once he looked sorta happy."

"Master Windu?" He couldn't restrain his surprise. Mace – happy?

"No – him. Uh, Master, you know he's staying with Master Windu, don't you? I think that's a real slap in the face to you – he's supposed to be your friend."

"Obi-Wan is staying with Mace Windu?" Qui-Gon passed a hand over his eyes. He had known that, hadn't he? Yes, he'd heard that, but hadn't believed it – hadn't wanted to believe it, had chosen not to. His face darkened. Mace was supposed to be his friend, yet he was sheltering the boy who had failed him, who had betrayed his belief in him, and nearly shattered the confidence of Anakin?

How could Mace betray their friendship like that? Was the entire Order against him and Anakin as well? Why would they all side with Obi-Wan? Against their very salvation?

Oblivious to all this, Anakin continued blithely on, "Is he going to be wandering around the Temple now rather than hiding away and crying?" He grabbed a snack and sprawled over the couch.

"Feet, Padawan."

"Oh, Master." He sniffed and wiped a hand across eyes that miraculously spouted tears.

"Hello, old friend."

The hurt and somewhat bitter words were somewhat of a surprise, but only because it had taken so long for them to be said.

"Good morning, Qui." Mace returned unperturbed. He continued down the hallway, Qui-Gon falling into unwilling step with him rather than bellowing his frustration for all to hear.

"You took his side, took him in and didn't even tell me."

"Obi-Wan? Someone had to take him in – he had no place to return to and he was not – is not even yet – ready to be on his own. It was no secret." The reply was as bland as the cafeteria food.

"Why you?"

Deftly sidestepping Qui-Gon's grab for his arm, Mace stopped and whirled to face his fellow Jedi. His voice was hard as he met the harsh demand with equal intensity. "You all but threw him out – and I was the first to step forward. We've been friends a long time, Qui, and he was your padawan once upon a time. By the Force, Qui, that boy meant the world to you once. Someday, I hope you thank me. He deserved far better from you and I hope you don't discard Anakin on the dump heap when something newer comes along."

"I would never do that." The words were low and immediate. The very softness heartened Mace.

"Why'd you do it, Qui-Gon?" He'd wanted to ask that question since Naboo and only now thought he might get an honest answer. Qui-Gon had never been a cruel man, only a sometimes tactless and heedless man, so mindlessly obedient to his instincts that he lacked common sense or courtesy at times.

He was met with a lifeless shrug of shoulders, a weary regret, a whisper of his truth. "He stood in Anakin's path."

"So you destroyed him."

Bright blue eyes flashed upwards, full of denial and hurt at the accusation. "I set him on his path forward. You – the Council – chose to block it, not me."

"You destroyed him. You cast him aside, you denied his right to speak his mind, you faltered in your focus during battle and blamed him – to his face as you lay dying," Mace's voice lashed out; then softened, "and then you broke the bond as he was destroying his life to save yours. If you can still say you didn't destroy him – then I fear your grip on reality, my - old – friend."

For a moment, Mace thought he had gotten through to the stubborn Jedi master the sheer magnitude of his actions. Qui-Gon swallowed spasmodically and closed his eyes.

When he opened them, all pity fled. The eyes were bright now and determined.

"The Force insisted Anakin needed to be trained and I could not trust any of you to give him the proper respect he requires."

"Anakin is nearly ten and needs to earn the respect you seem to think he's entitled to with little basis so far. Obi-Wan was close to his knighting and has more than earned the Council's respect the last few years. You couldn't wait a year or two – let Anakin be with the initiates and catch up on the basics? You haven't been fair to either one."

He'd rested his hand on Qui-Gon's arm only to have it shaken off.

"A true Jedi cares for nothing but the will of the Force. Anakin is our salvation, Mace. That outranks every other consideration. Even Obi-Wan. Especially a disobedient and disrespectful padawan who knowingly hurt a small boy's feelings. He was jealous, Mace; selfish and self-centered and he let it lead him to the dark side, you know he fought and killed with anger and hate in his soul. Obi-Wan proved himself no Jedi. In the end, he was exactly what I suspected he was when I first turned him down as my padawan. I made a mistake then, not now."

The depth of the resentment and regret that colored his words momentarily made Mace speechless. He had been privy to much of Qui-Gon's fears and worries all those long years ago. Willful blindness born of a heart shattered by betrayal had twisted reality into a perverse and unjust perception long ago until the light of the Force had burned through the shuttered mind and illuminated the truth: the shadows that had lain within Obi-Wan Kenobi had been cast there by the master's indifference and fears.

What had cast those shadows once more?

"One day your words will come back to haunt you, Qui-Gon. I just hope you don't shatter as Obi-Wan was shattered."

"He has brought his fate upon himself. Do not blame me," Qui-Gon stared Mace in the eyes, "and do not blame Anakin. Anakin deserves far more in the way of respect and consideration than any Jedi has given him. I will fight for his right to dignity and respect, even if I have to go against the entire Order."

"All beings deserve dignity and respect, Qui-Gon. All. Including your former padawan."

The two Jedi locked eyes. Qui-Gon was the first to break it. He whirled and walked away, hands jammed within his sleeves.

Mace turned away, only to find Yoda blinking up at him.

"You heard?"

"Blind and deaf Qui-Gon has become, even to the Force, perhaps. Attached he is to the prophecy, a prophecy that misread and misunderstood it might well be. The future is set in a different direction now. How it ends up even I cannot foresee."

Anakin smirked as he sprawled on his bed; he'd managed to uncover more than a few unflattering facts about his master's failed apprentice – the one he had replaced. Some Jedi had been more than happy to fill him in on the dubious exploits of almost-never-was Padawan Kenobi. In truth, the current golden boy of the Temple, the babied one, had been tarnished from the beginning.

Oh, he'd heard tales, of the fights and black eyes, the defiance of authority. Even Master Yoda, who all but doted on the anger management problem also known as Obi-Wan Kenobi had not been willing to take him as an apprentice.

The brat was now a crybaby, all but hiding from those whom he had once terrorized.

Now he was emerging from his isolation like an Ahliya mothwing from its cocoon, thinking himself reborn stronger, his tears and confusion shed into the past.

Well, that wasn't going to last long. The pitiful creature would be revealed for what he was – weak and pathetic.

Those eyes would be empty again, mere bowls to shed tears.

Weepy-Wan: he thought the name had a nice ring to it. Oh, yes, the boy who had struggled just to be accepted, the boy his master had finally taken pity on and trained – who had been cast aside without a moment's reflection – for him – would weep endless tears once more.

An unexpected moment of doubt assailed him. That haughty apprentice had reportedly saved his master. What if – nah, he couldn't have – perhaps…Anakin brightened as he realized the truth. Qui-Gon had saved himself. He had drawn on his weakling padawan's life essence to stabilize himself. In a weird kind of way, Obi-Wan had inadvertently helped – only he had been given all the credit.

Oh, that'd make Qui-Gon mad.

And he wasn't sure he wanted to make his master mad, risk being the bearer of bad tidings for what if his anger at being deceived took itself out on him? He had borne the consequences of anger more times than he cared to recall. He absently rubbed his arm as he shivered. No, he didn't yet know if Master Qui-Gon took his anger out on the messenger or the cause, or both. And what if one of the other Jedi got mad that he exposed that one's lies?

But Master Qui-Gon needed to know.

So did he tell his master or not? Maybe if he told him, those lapses when he thought of Obi-Wan, doubted himself, would disappear. He knew, because of the bond they shared.

If only that was the only bond he shared. It was getting awfully crowded in there now.

Obi-Wan scratched his arm absently, a minor ache disappearing almost as soon as it manifested itself. He had done little than guide small hands and bodies in the twisting and thrusting of movement, into knowledge of a deadly dance that someday, when mastered, might well save a life.

It had certainly saved his on occasion.

Agility coupled with strength was a Jedi's greatest physical asset. Awareness of surroundings and his connection to the Force was his greatest mental asset. Together, in combination, a Jedi was nearly unstoppable except by overwhelming numbers.

But nearly was not never, and several colleagues had fallen in the last few years. It mattered little that he had not known them well. For all the wondrous blessings their connection to the Force brought, Jedi were not immune to accidents or incidents that could cut lives short. He had learned that bitter truth years ago.

And yet, when he could, he did all that he could to save life, not harm it.

And so, for all that the man had willingly set him aside, Obi-Wan had fought with everything and more at his disposal to save that man, selfishly fighting the Force for Qui-Gon's life. Had he fought so hard – and won – that the Force had retreated from him for exceeding his bounds?

Had it been a choice between the Force and Qui-Gon, a trial of his ultimate loyalty? Was that why the Force refused his touch?

He curled up in a ball, fighting to catch his breath. He had never meant to repudiate the Force, never! He had only sought to - he dropped his face into his hands and moaned once he realized -no matter what his intention had been, he had commanded the Force rather than ask its aid! He had made it a tool to his wishes, not a guide.

Only younglings too young to know better – or those sliding towards the dark did so.

That was why the Force had forsaken him.

So this was the famed Jedi Council chamber. It was not in the main spire, as he had thought. Not that it mattered. Sunlight streamed in the high windows and created patterns of light and shadow on the beautifully tiled floor. A circular room with a circle of Jedi masters, how befitting an Order that prided itself on balance and equality, yet like the patterns on the floor, was other than it seemed. The Order had its own hierarchy like any organization, at its head the twelve Masters and an ever widening circle down the ranks mirroring that the of the Republic in some ways.

He, the sole head of the Republic; yet he, the executive branch was equal to the multitudes that made up the Senate. Two layers of government sharing power, and in that, more in balance, more equitable, than this Order.

An interesting thought, one he kept hidden from his hosts for there was no point in antagonizing them.

"My dear Master Yoda," Palpatine inclined his head, a cheery smile on his face. "So kind of you, I'm sure, to welcome the new Chancellor to a place so few are privileged to enter."

Yoda gargled lightly in his throat. "Friends are welcome here, Chancellor, always, but our home the Temple is, not a public edifice or a monument to the Force. We do not encourage those not of the Order to visit, but such is never forbidden."

Totally understandable, of course, and one reason the lovely Master Billaba would be his guide. Masters Yoda and Windu were regretfully too occupied with duties to play escort, and though he had been granted permission to visit those whom he had come to see, it seemed he was not going to be allowed to freely roam. He had not expected such, either.

"My dear." With a smile, Palpatine offered his arm. With perfect aplomb, the Jedi master accepted as if this was a common occurrence, with a warm smile reflected in her deep brown eyes. Beautiful eyes full of life and humor in an otherwise nondescript body, though not an unpleasant one. Quite the contrary. It was a body made for a man's caress, a body hiding a spirit with passion and feelings.

A small tingle of anticipation ran up his nerves. Perhaps if he cultivated the acquaintance, he might actually have a chance to find out if the Jedi were truly celibate or not. It had been quite a while since he had allowed his human nature a purely carnal outlet.

After all, somewhere buried deep within, he was a man as much as a politician, even if he rarely allowed that man much latitude. A Jedi would keep any sexual liaison discrete; any "affair" would remain private, out of the public eye, away from scandal.

Yes, a closer relationship with the Jedi could be quite beneficial. Keep your enemies close, and your friends closer.

There might be both profit and pleasure in establishing closer relations with a Jedi. While it wouldn't do for the citizens to think the politicians and the Jedi were in bed together, such might actually be the best thing for the Republic – at least were it this politician and this lovely Jedi.