Disclaimer: See chapter 1 for general disclaimer. Padawan healer Towani Nal is my OC.
Author's Note: Here's chapter 8! Each section here gives a "timeframe" in its relation to the previous section. However, you will note that the increments are rather vague. This is intentional as the determinations are directly related to Obi-Wan's perceptions during this time and not necessarily accurate time keeping. Hmm, I hope that makes sense. It does in my head, but I'm not sure how many of you want to be inside there... Enjoy!
Thanks:
TheGirlBetweenMindAndSoul14: I'm glad you are enjoying it and yes, there is a very specific reason for Obi's behavior... a reason that I believe will be revealed in chapter nine...
Jedi Kay-Kenobi: I am thrilled you think so! I can tell you that writing the Force's return was a lot harder than writing its loss. Go figure. As far as Obi's condition... you are most definitely on the right track!
Please R&R!
And on to the show...
Some hours later...
"It is far worse than we feared."
"Yes. Much darkness he bears. Consume him it will."
"You mean it will kill him."
"To destroy from within and without it does."
"Then there is only one alternative. He will not like it. I do not like it."
"Demand much of its servants the Force does."
"This may be too much..."
"Meditate later on this we will."
"Ugghhh..."
"He's waking."
"More rest he needs. Stressful was the experience. Sleep, young one. Much strength you will need in the trials to come."
Many hours later... perhaps even days...
Obi-Wan's head hurt, in fact, the very word "hurt" seems a woefully inadequate descriptor. The throbbing between his temples is nothing less than torturous; ever increasing by incalculable degrees with his every attempt at thought. Obi-Wan is in a particularly foul mood, his present pain only adding to his general malcontent. The tremors and nausea are not much help either; all gifts of the rather invasive and down right vicious mind probe from earlier. These new miseries only serve to compound his abject state under the weight of the damnable collar.
He had been allowed to touch the Force again, to feel the warmth and comfort of its embrace, to once again lose himself in the ephemeral plenum only to have that peace torn from him, stolen with a chilling and thunderous "click."
Bile once again rises in his throat, but it isn't his nausea stirring, it is something deeper—a personal revulsion to his pitiful state of being. He crosses the small distance to his 'fresher. He hovers for a moment, but the nausea passes. He stands there staring at the stranger that shares his features; his features, but not his eyes. The stranger's eyes are dull, empty, joyless, eyes that barely reflect light and no longer reflect a soul. Obi-Wan shakes his head. Those can't be his eyes. Can they?
Inside he knows the truth. Obi-Wan knows that his is a half-life; eclipsed from the Light, but not quite in darkness—merely shadowed. His whole existence now a darkened formless mockery of another life. A brighter life. A life lost to him for now and perhaps, he knows, forever.
Some few days later...
"Master Kenobi, I had not expected to find you here. Tell me, have you discovered yet another way to injure yourself?" a stern Twi'lek asks brusquely as she stands before the younger master. Obi-Wan raises his hands pacifically.
"No, new wounds I assure you, Master. Only a few questions, please," he answers. Vokara Che's eyebrows lift slightly in... amusement? Obi-Wan is only truly acquainted with the master healer's scowl (a match for Master Windu's any day) so this new expression is mildly puzzling.
"Ask," she orders. Obi-Wan does not hedge or hesitate.
"The collar, what would happen if it is removed... permanently?"
Vokara too does not hedge or hesitate.
"Based on all the evidence, you will enter again into a state of dark psychosis, accelerating the already prolific spread of your current lesions, followed promptly by a catastrophic nervous disruption and complete organ dysfunction."
"Meaning?"
Vokara sighs, whether in sympathy or frustration, Obi-Wan is not sure.
"Meaning if you remove the collar the ensuing fit will most likely kill you."
"I see," Obi-Wan responds surprisingly indifferent about the rather definitive assertion regarding his foreseeably painful demise.
"Master, I have the results you asked for," a voice calls cheerily from down the hall. Soon, the two masters are joined by a familiar pair of gimlet eyes and an exceedingly handsome smile; a smile that Obi-Wan finds himself genuinely returning.
"It is good to see you again, Towani."
"Master Kenobi," the young Nautolan greets with a deep bow. For a long moment her midnight eyes hold his blue-gray hostage before Obi-Wan is forced to yield under the girl's intense scrutiny. With a bit more curtness than he intends, Obi-Wan bows his head to the two Jedi healers.
"Master Che. Padawan," he says then he turns to make a noticeably hasty exit. A small and somber voice fills the space left by the fleeing master.
"He is running out of time."
Many more days later...
Obi-Wan stares out of the window of his small monastic cell. The skyways of Coruscant teem with activity. Trillions of beings traveling to and fro, hither and yon, carrying on with their daily lives in the close companionship of others. In the Temple too life is all around him. He can hear it, see it, taste it, touch it, smell it, but he can no longer feel it. The cones of his eyes function normally, but the colors he sees are muted, washed out by an overlapping pall of gray, a half-world for his half-life.
The door chime sounds.
"Come," Obi-Wan calls after releasing a heavy sigh. He sorely does not want visitors, but this desire, like many others of late goes unfulfilled as Anakin steps into the room.
"They had me off-world. I only just found out what they did," he says. Obi-Wan does not need the Force to recognize the anger and resentment hidden with the rich tones of the familiar voice.
"Your anger is inappropriate, Anakin. The Council was only acting as it felt best."
"It was wrong."
"It was necessary."
"It was cruel."
"Yes, it was," Obi-Wan concedes finally. "But still necessary," he finishes as he turns to face his visitor for the first time since his arrival. He moves forward intending to take a seat, but his progress is interrupted when he clumsily stubs his toe on the leg of his small desk.
"Blast it!" he exclaims. Anakin has the good sense not to say anything. The Force is ever present in their lives. A constant whisper of danger, warning, instruction, direction, and even flashes of things yet to come. Its presence not only aided in supernatural feats of speed, strength, agility, and endurance, but also heightened reflexes, senses, and general awareness. As a result, Jedi simply did not bump awkwardly into things and they certainly never stub their toes.
Obi-Wan relaxes the fists suddenly clenched at his sides as he releases a slow and steady breath. He is far from calm, but he is at least closer to the appearance of it. He takes a seat by the Sith-forsaken desk. Anakin leans against a bookshelf. Neither man says anything, the silence between them growing heavier with unuttered truths. Finally the mutual disquiet is interrupted by another chime at the door. Without any consultation, Anakin waves the portal open inviting the Korun Councilor inside the tiny sanctum. Mace notes Anakin's presence with a nod.
"Skywalker," he says, his rumbling baritone as mellifluous as summer thunder. Anakin politely nods back. Mace then turns his attention to the room's owner.
"The Council has received your... request," the Councilor states, a trace of irritation in his voice. Anakin looks to his former mentor for insight, but Obi-Wan offers none, simply nodding an acknowledgement to the master's statement. Anakin turns to Mace.
"What request?"
"He has asked for the Force collar to be removed permanently," Mace intones. Anakin straightens from his relaxed position.
"I thought if he collar was removed,"
"I'd turn into a dangerous, dark-sided lunatic? Yes, I will," Obi-Wan completes for his former student. "My request proposes several appropriate precautions to protect others from,"
"You," Anakin finishes, returning the interruption. Obi-Wan nods acknowledging both the gesture and the statement.
"Yes," he answers simply. Anakin throws up his hands in exasperation at his former mentor's ridiculously calm demeanor. The Korun Councilor, however, is not frustrated so easily.
"Permanent removal of the Force collar is tantamount to a death sentence," Mace pauses, a single condemning eyebrow raised. "But I suspect you already know that."
"Master Che was very forthcoming in providing me the salient details, yes," Obi-Wan answers with apparent aplomb. Now, it is Mace's turn at exasperation, but unlike the Knight he doesn't show it, choosing instead to maintain his display of Jedi calm.
"Obi-Wan," he begins, his tone unusually softened, his manner entreating. "I understand what you are going through, the loneliness, the... unnatural emptiness of every moment, but it is endurable," Mace ends knowing that his words are far from comforting, but hoping they are at least somewhat salutary. With a shake of Obi-Wan's head his fleeting hopes are quickly dashed.
"With respect, Master Windu," Obi-Wan starts, his formal appellation not escaping Mace's notice. "You were imprisoned when you were forced to wear a collar. You needed only to survive in it. What you and the Council are asking, what all of you are asking," he says his gaze moving to encompass Anakin as well, "is for me to live in it. It is something I cannot do."
"Suicide is not the Jedi way."
"But acceptance of harsh realities, acceptance of death is," Obi-Wan counters. "Please, do not fight me on this."
Mace opens his mouth to say something, but promptly closes it upon a moment's secondary review. Instead he sets his jaw tightly, his traditional scowl returning to his stony features.
"The Council will consider your petition in tomorrow's early session," the Councilor informs his fellow icily. Both Jedi bristle at the master's cold intonation, but neither speak. Mace opens the door and steps into the corridor, but pausing.
"Skywalker, a word," he growls. Relunctantly, Anakin follows the master out knowing his compliance is not only expected, it is required. Finally alone again, Obi-Wan releases a breath he did not know he was holding. He stands and, quite attentively, crosses back to his window, condemned to merely look upon the vibrant dance of life to which he is no longer a partner.
The next morning...
The Council chambers have never not been intimidating. For as long as Obi-Wan can remember the round room with its floor to ceiling window panorama of Coruscant and intricately detailed flooring has always made him feel small. However, surrounded by the wisest of all the living Jedi, their eyes assessing him, their minds searching him, Obi-Wan feels more than small. He feels naked, raw, vulnerable. His limited shielding an insubstantial wisp against all but the gentlest of probes. Unable to seek comfort or protection within the Force, he pulls uncomfortably at the edges of his cloak before willing himself to still by placing his hands in opposite sleeves.
"Masters," Obi-Wan greets with a formal bow. As is his custom, Master Windu opens the session with the clear cut precision of a saber blade at full power.
"Master Kenobi, you come before this Council requesting a hearing of your petition to permanently remove your Force collar. Is this accurate?"
"It is, Master Windu."
"Have you fully considered the consequences of such action?" the soft and well reasoned voice of Ki-Adi-Mundi inquires.
"I have, Master Mundi."
"And yet you would proceed with this course of action?" asks Adi Gallia, her regal and velvety tones echoing sweetly in the open space of the chamber.
"With the Council's permission, yes," Obi-Wan replies evenly. A disapproving "hmmph" is heard from the oldest of the masters, but otherwise the wizened Jedi says nothing. Master Plo Koon leans forward in his seat.
"This request seems most imprudent. A Jedi should display patience even under the most disagreeable circumstances."
For those that can feel it, the Force momentarily sparks with Obi-Wan's irritation, but he is able to quickly sweep the emotion aside in lieu of true release.
"With respect, Master Plo, I have been patient. Even for a Jedi, a time comes when patience must yield to acceptance."
"And you believe you have reached that point?" Saesee Tiin follows.
"I do," Obi-Wan answers honestly. At that, the Grand Master can no longer keep his peace. The clack of his gimer stick striking the hard floor resonates ominously throughout the chamber.
"Reckless this is! And foolish you are to presume what you do!"
"That is your opinion, Master," Obi-Wan answers in an uncharacteristic and frankly dangerous show of impudence.
"My opinion indeed it is, young Master, but out voted I am."
Obi-Wan's ire slips off of him and is quickly replaced by a state of shock. He looks upon his fellow Council members, his eyes wide in surprise and hope.
"You have agreed to grant my request?"
"Yes," Mace answers as he leans back in his seat and steeples his fingers. "But the Council asks something of you in return."
Obi-Wan frowns. He knew this had been too easy; the questions too superficial not the razor-edged scraping of his moral and ethical center he had expected of a request for what was essentially Council assisted suicide.
"What would you have of me, Masters?"
"There has been... an offer," Mace answers cryptically. Obi-Wan regards his Korun friend quizzically.
"What kind of offer?"
"An offer to help you."
"From whom?"
"She has offered her assistance in this matter," Mace replies, one eyebrow raised in compliment to the slight quirk tugging at his mouth. Obi-Wan's brow wrinkles.
"She?" he repeats, then shortly after a warm breath of revelation rolls quietly through the Force. Obi-Wan stares at Mace who confirms his conclusion with a single nod.
"The Council would like you to meet with her before you decide to remove you collar. That is our request."
"Very well," Obi-Wan nods. "How long will it take to arrange a meeting?"
"She left for Coruscant four days ago and will arrive tomorrow," Mace smiles. "She had a feeling she would be needed."
Obi-Wan allows himself a small smile as well.
"Yes, I bet she did."