Disclaimer: All belongs to the great and powerful Mouse.

Summary: The Force moves in mysterious ways and all are bound to its ultimate will, especially the Jedi.

A/N: This is the first book of my series The Force of Providence. This series will follow Obi-Wan Kenobi's apprenticeship with Master Qui-Gon Jinn and is projected to end somewhere approaching the Phantom Menace timeframe, but of course that can and probably will change. Though this will have some similarities, and thus some spoilers, with the Jedi Apprentice book series by Judith Watson, this is still most definitely AU. Please enjoy what I anticipate will be my newest obsession.

A/N 2: I will attempt to post weekly, but as this is a work in progress I would expect some irregularities in posting. However, the story will be completed.

A/N 3: Italics indicate emphasis, visions, personal thoughts, and flashbacks. Context should illustrate which device is being used. / / indicates mindspeak.

Please R&R!

~BOUND~

Chapter 1 – Blinded by Vision

1 year ago...

The Grand Hall was packed. Knight, masters, padawans, and initiates of all ages and species had converged on Coruscant to witness the Temple's Annual Initiate Exhibition. Though conducted as a tournament, the true competition was not to win first place, but instead to impress a master who might take a promising competitor as his, her, or its padawan. That was the true motivation behind each young participant and Obi-Wan Kenobi was no exception. At eleven standard years of age, it was not unusual for Obi-Wan to not yet have been selected as a padawan, but time was running out. His birthday was only a few days after the exhibition meaning he had only one year to catch the eye of someone, some knight or master who would take him on as an apprentice, but Obi-Wan had faith. He was a more than fair student academically and was tremendously talented with a practice saber. The young boy was certain that he would be chosen in time. In fact, perhaps today was going to be the day...

Obi-Wan entered the hall, scanning the room for a set of familiar faces. A quick glance to his right showed him his target. On a bench near the far arena sat his best friends and agemates, all smiles and waving arms. He walked over to join them, a large smile plastered across his face as the excitement of today's events began to grow inside him.

"Obi! Are you ready? Are you nervous? Don't be nervous! You're so good with a saber!" Bant babbled enthusiastically answering her own questions as she drew Obi-Wan into a tight hug.

"Thanks, Bant," Obi-Wan said once he was released from his friend's grasp. "And no, I'm not nervous."

"What's he got to be nervous about?" Garen joined as he also greeted his friend with a hug. "Our Obi's the best in our division. This is your year, Obi. I just know it!"

Obi-Wan looked happily upon the faces of his dearest friends. Garen Muln and Bant Eerin, along with Reeft who was unfortuanately away on an academic field trip, had been Obi-Wan's constant companions since his first memories in the crèche. The four initiates had been inseparable over the years, but as excited as each of them was to be taken as a padawan, they also knew that that change would mean their eventual separation, a separation that would only grow over the long years to their knighthoods. Obi-Wan pushed those thoughts aside and chose instead to focus on the task before him.

"I don't know about that, Garen," Obi-Wan replied with a blush. "Do you know who's here?" he asked. Garen did not need to ask him exactly which who he meant. Every initiate was keeping tabs on the available knights and masters that were currently on planet and free to take a padawan should they find one to their liking.

"Well, I heard that Master Apopka and Master Tourin are both here specifically looking for a new padawan," Garen answered with a mischievous smile as if he were delivering some delicate intel. Bant leaned in and nodded seriously.

"And I heard that Master Yoda has been badgering some of the younger knights into taking padawans too. I heard Knights Rasiili and Cib-Tan even got thwacked on the shins before they agreed to come to watch the exhibition."

"What about... you know," Obi-Wan asked hesitantly. Bant and Garen exchanged knowing looks. A particular master had already stopped by the crèche asking questions about Obi-Wan, his skills, his academics, his medical records. Though he had never spoken to the boy directly, all four initiates had noticed the master's interest.

"Don't worry. He's here," Bant whispered then she directed her large eyes to the far left corner of the room. "Third row towards the middle."

The two boys casually glanced over their shoulders to lay eyes on the stoic visage of Bothan Master Jedi Nahar Goor Pama. Master Goor Pama had a long muzzle and sharp expressive ears that stuck out at odd angles from his chestnut brown mane of fur. It was known that the master had already raised two padawans successfully to knighthood and was now on the hunt for a third. Obi-Wan felt his chest swell with hope as he gazed upon the serene master sitting quietly in the stands. He turned back to his friends, a smile on his face.

"I think you're right, Garen. This is my year. I can just feel it. Something big is about to happen."

The tournament was running smoothly. Obi-Wan had advanced to the semi-finals with ease and all that stood between him and the final round was one last fight. Obi-Wan wiped the sweat from his brow as he gathered his calm and prepared himself for his next bout. Bant and Garen had already been eliminated and now took their seats behind him among the first row of spectators. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and swallowed the heady rush of anticipation. Just as he brought his breathing down to a slow and steady rate his light meditation was interrupted by an all too familiar voice.

"I hope you're ready to be embarrassed again, Oafy-Wan."

Obi-Wan opened his eyes and looked up to see the chubby face smirk of one Bruck Chun staring down at him.

"That is not my name," he replied dismissively. Ever since his earliest days in the crèche, Bruck had always seemed to have it out for him. The other boy would poke and prod him, taut and tease him mercilessly and yet never once had the other child ever faced real punishment. Somehow Bruck would always steer the blame away from himself and back to his victim, usually Obi-Wan. Bruck Chun was a bully, a talented bully with a saber, but a bully nonetheless.

"Once I win this round, all the masters will be looking to choose me and nobody will give a second thought to a clumsy kid like you, Oafy," Bruck sneered as he moved a wisp of his shaggy white hair from his eyes. Obi-Wan took a deep breath. Too many times he had allowed Bruck's jibes to pierce his calm, but not this time. This tournament was far too important. Obi-Wan looked steadily into the other boy's eyes.

"No matter who wins we will both do our best. The other Jedi will see that," he answered serenely. Bruck threw his head back in raucous laughter.

"What the other Jedi will see is that your best isn't good enough. See you in the ring, Oafy-Wan," he said as he walked away still laughing at his own wit. Obi-Wan stared at Bruck's retreating figure shaking his head when he felt a hand on his knee. He looked over and was met with the gimlet eyes of the Order's smallest master. Immediately, Obi-Wan jumped off the bench and knelt before the smaller Jedi.

"Master Yoda," he greeted. The ancient master regarded the boy for a few quiet seconds. He placed his hands atop his gimer stick; his large ears twitching slightly.

"How feel you, young one?"

"Master?" Obi-Wan spoke in surprise and not a little confusion. Why was Master Yoda worried about him? "I... I am well, Master."

"Hmm..." the older Jedi hummed as he closed his eyes. "Many battles you have fought to get here. Another battle now you will face."

Obi-Wan's brow knitted at the master's words. Of course he had fought battles to get here. This was the semi-final round, but surely Yoda had meant more than that. Before he could ask the Grand Master what he meant, Obi-Wan heard the announcer call him and Bruck to the floor. Yoda opened his eyes as Obi-Wan rose to his feet.

"Strong you must be for what lies ahead and strong you are," the ancient master suddenly offered, his gravely voice emphasizing the last of his words. Not knowing quite what to say, Obi-Wan simply bowed and thanked the elder Jedi then he crossed onto the main floor and entered the central ring.

Bruck was already there waiting on him, his face still baring an insufferable smugness. The knight officiating the tournament reminded both boys of the rules before asking them to bow to him and then to each other. Both boys then lit their sabers and the duel was on. The pale white light of the two practice sabers whirled and swished in the air around them. Each combatant moving and maneuvering for better position as the two engaged in brief and frenzied collisions with their blades only to retreat and reengage. Obi-Wan could feel Bruck's frustration increase as the battle continued as he gave the other child no hole in his defense of which to take any advantage. All Obi-Wan had to do was fend Bruck off, knowing that the boy's own emotions would cloud his judgment and off balance his actions. Obi-Wan needed only to remain calm and wait. Then suddenly it happened. Bruck made a clumsy thrust leaving a perfect opening for Obi-Wan to sweep in for a finishing move. He darted inside Bruck's over extended arm and prepared to make what would be the round's final blow when, unexpectedly, the world dissolved around him.

The entire Grand Hall faded into nothingness and Obi-Wan found himself in a place of total darkness. The air around him was thick and dusty causing him to choke and cough. He felt the hard ground beneath his feet and when he reached out his arms he only met solid, unforgiving rock. He was trapped here. Wherever here was. Trapped by rock and stone. Lost in the dark. Panic began to swell in his chest and as Obi-Wan tried desperately to catch his breath he heard a voice call out. The voice was soft, so soft it was barely heard and completely unrecognizable, but somehow Obi-Wan understood the words that sang quietly through the dark.

"Obi-Wan!" the voice called desperately. "Obi-Wan! You must try! I need you! Obi-Wan!"

"Who... Where are you?" Obi-Wan called back, but no one stepped forward. The darkness remained unbroken. Then the voice called out again, but this time it was different... louder... closer.

"Obi-Wan!" someone shouted as he felt a gentle shake on his shoulder and a hand resting on his forehead.

"He's coming out of it," another voice said. Obi-Wan slowly opened his eyes, blinking against the bright lights of the Grand Hall's illumination. The world began to focus around him once again and he discovered that he was lying on his back on the arena floor with several masters and knights clustered around him. Confused beyond all reason, Obi-Wan's eyes settled on a familiar face. Master Yoda gazed down at the pale boy before him.

"All right things are. Sleep now, you will," he said and Obi-Wan drifted quickly into a deep slumber.

The Present...

Master Qui-Gon Jinn stepped onto the ramp of his transport bone weary and sore. It had been a long string of missions that kept him away from Coruscant, the latest few of which were particularly harrowing, and now all the tall master wanted was to go to his quarters and enjoy a long hot shower and a good night's rest, but as he descended the ramp and his gaze fell upon the tiny green figure awaiting him he knew that it would be awhile still before his wish was granted.

Qui-Gon stepped before the much smaller master and bowed deeply.

"Master Yoda," he intoned. The ancient master gazed up at the taller, long haired Jedi and frowned.

"Tired, you look. Finally weary of running are you?" the Grand Master greeted gruffly. Qui-Gon felt his own hackles rise at the master's insinuation. He was far too exhausted for a round with this diminutive adversary.

"I am not running. I am simply doing my duty," he replied. Yoda struck his gimer stick against the bay floor.

"To teach, a duty you have as well. Forgotten this you have."

"I have forgotten nothing. You know quite well why I choose not to take another padawan. I have only asked you to respect my decision. You need not agree with it," he rejoined. Yoda grumped loudly.

"Agree with it I do not," the elder master spoke punctuating his dissent with another strike of his stick. The two masters stared at each other for a long time, both of their wills exceedingly stubborn, their positions intractable. Finally, Yoda let loose a long sigh breaking their eye contact and ending the stalemate.

"Report to the Council now, you will. Expect you they do."

"As you wish, Master," Qui-Gon answered once again bowing low before his elder. Yoda grumped once more before turning and making his slow way through the Temple, Master Jinn followed mutely behind.

"I thought you would be holed up in your quarters by now."

"Despite the Council's earlier haranguing, a hot shower and a short meditation has infused me with enough fortitude to seek out sustenance," Qui-Gon retorted as he sat down his tray and took a seat across from his friend. Mace greeted him with a quick smirk before returning his attention to his meal. The two older Jedi had been friends for a very long time and though Mace's appointment to the Council had often strained their relationship, both masters had vowed never to let it break it.

Mace took a long and leisurely sip of his soup as he stared at his friend.

"I heard you had an interesting... arrival today."

"If by interesting you mean I was once again ambushed by a meddling troll then yes," Qui-Gon answered as he steeped his tea. "It seems Yoda is more insistent than ever that I take another padawan. Sith hells take him, I really wish he would let this matter rest."

"I'm sure he will," Mace responded casually as Qui-Gon looked to him with suspicion. "He will... after he gets his way," Mace finished. Qui-Gon shook his head.

"Then I am doomed to be forever tormented," he sighed as he began to work on his meal.

"Worrisome as he is, the troll does have a point."

"Not you too?" Qui-Gon replied a bit more harshly than he intended. Mace quickly raised his hands in mock surrender.

"I'm just saying that it's been eight years, Qui-Gon. Force, even Vresh has taken a padawan and he also swore never to do so. Perhaps Yoda is right and it's time to move on."

"I will move on as you so eloquently put it when I am ready and not at anyone else's command," he growled. Mace nodded his head in concession.

"Fair enough, friend. Fair enough."

"That's him! I'm sure of it!"

"No, you're wrong. He never comes back for the tournaments."

"I'm telling you guys, that is Qui-Gon Jinn. Hey, maybe he will choose you at this year's tournament Obi," Garen said as he turned to his friend. Obi-Wan hadn't looked up the entire time his table mates were arguing over the arrival of the mysterious master sitting with Council Member Windu. Instead he continued to poke at the food on his plate even as he answered his friend.

"You know he won't, Gar," he mumbled. Bant slid in a little closer to her friend's side.

"Just because you haven't been chosen so far doesn't mean you won't be, Obi."

Obi-Wan finally looked up and saw the caring gazes of his friends. Even Reeft had stopped the rapid consumption of his dinner in his concern. Despite their well wishes and optimism, Obi-Wan held no illusions about his future. He turned and glanced over at the serene looking, long haired master across the room and sighed.

"He won't want me either, not once he finds out..."