Just something I had written up a while ago that I recently cleaned up a bit. I've got the next chapter for my other Dooku fic about half done, so I thought I'd post this one just for kicks and giggles. Enjoy!

They met in a backwoods tavern carved into the side of a hill on an obscure planet in an even more obscure part of space. Stars were few and the one that provided the necessary heat and light for this particular planet did just enough to be classified as a sun. Nevertheless, the atmosphere was thick with clouds and the air far below was currently thick with rain. Sheets of it fell in cold, hard drops.

Anakin would have been miserable.

For Obi-wan, it was life. The duracrete jungles of Coruscant could not even begin to compare with the fresh smell of mud beneath his boots and the lushness of the nearby forests. Drenched though he was, the young knight felt warm for the first time in months. Though almost half a year had passed, Qui-gon's death was still a raw, oozing wound that only seemed to fester more with time. Being so far away from what was familiar helped to numb the pain a bit.

Obi-wan wove his way through the similarly drenched people that were moving from hovel to hovel to market and back in a seemingly endless cycle that carried on in spite of the heavy downpour. Coruscant it may not be, but it was just as busy. He spotted the hole in the hill on the edge of town by sheer luck. The place didn't even have a name, just a shorn off slab of wood with the word "tavern" carved into it. Stepping inside, he took a moment to lower his hood and run a hand through his damp hair, scanning the dim setting as he did so.

He was only left with a semblance of a moment to brood upon the fact that his hair had yet to get past the spiky, slightly frazzled look that pubescent teenagers often sported. A split second later he spotted the man he was after reclining at a rickety table in a dark corner. He quickly maneuvered through the rest of the tables and took a seat without preamble and without the customary greeting he typically reserved for those he respected or those who were above him.

This man, after all, was no longer a Jedi.

"Why did you not come?" The question was drenched in taut bitterness and more than a little hostility.

Yan Dooku, never one to portray any loss of control, merely raised a brow. "Do you really think so little of me that you believe I would not attend my own apprentice's funeral?"

Obi-wan's eyes narrowed, but he acknowledged the not-so-subtle rebuke by verbally withdrawing. "I didn't sense you."

This elicited a sharp bark of laughter, but there was no humor in it. "There are ways, Kenobi, to hide oneself even from a Jedi of such astute awareness as yourself. I've had more than enough practice and it took very little effort." He paused. "I have to admit, I'm surprised you decided to indulge my wish to see you."

Obi-wan shrugged. "You've almost ceased to exist. Normally, the Order likes to keep tabs on those who leave…"

"I am aware."

"… but you've become something of a shadow, haven't you?"

Yan met this observation with a wry smile. "If you posed that question to Yoda, the old troll would give you a hearty whack on the shins. I have never been anything else, my dear boy." He took a lazy sip of the drink he had ordered more than an hour prior. "Am I to understand, then, that your meeting me here is purely out of obligation to the Order you so blindly serve? There is no personal agenda behind your presence?"

Obi-wan shifted uncomfortably, but still met the older man's gaze with a sizzling glare of his own. "Don't patronize me. My master claimed you could read anyone as well as any book; I'm sure you have already assessed every line on my face, the slump of my shoulders, the tone of my voice, and the color of my eyes and drawn your own conclusions. I'm cold, I'm wet, I want to know why you wanted me here and most of all," here he paused, still holding the older man's steady gaze, "I miss him. Don't beat around a dead bush. You and I are both here for personal reasons. Let's not waste time on needless small talk."

Dooku's expression, bland and betraying nothing for most of the young Jedi's mini tirade, flickered briefly into surprise towards the end before settling once more into neutral indifference. He took another sip of his drink before glancing down at it, swirling it a little. "Your steadily growing reputation seems to be more than mere hearsay, I see. Young, confident and composed indeed. Is this how you plan to negotiate every obstacle you meet?"

"Right now I don't consider you an obstacle. More so a distraction," was the clipped response. Obi-wan's blue eyes narrowed slightly when Dooku's own rose to meet them once more. "Don't turn this into a teaching moment. You're not my master and you never will be." He stared at the former Jedi for a moment longer before finally shrugging out of his damp robes and beckoning a waitress. After ordering a drink of his own – just a cup of caffe even though he knew he could use something far stronger – he sat back and waited for the older man to say something.

Dooku seemed content to let him wait. Obi-wan endured the man's curious assessment patiently, content to let him have the next word. His anger and resentment towards the former Jedi had already faded and was quickly turning into confusion. Yes, most Jedi who had known Yan Dooku would never describe him as a "light" Jedi. Anyone who'd ever been around him for more than a few minutes could sense that without even trying, but nothing about the man really screamed darkness either. Obi-wan considered himself a fairly decent judge of character, and while Dooku was quite serious and full of more than his fair share of elegantly carved edginess, Obi-wan was certain that he was still a good man.

So why was his bust in the process of being carved and labeled and permanently placed in the presence of the other Lost?

"Yoda was not surprised that I left. Disappointed, yes, and sad, perhaps, but not remotely surprised. Why are you?"

Dooku's deep voice broke him from his musings and it took him only a second to process the question. It took him a bit longer to formulate an answer. Eventually, he decided to be completely honest. "I won't pretend that I know you, but you don't strike me as dark."

Dooku's brows rose fractionally and a corner of his mouth ticked up in wry amusement. "You are one of few that hold that opinion, and while I appreciate it I am also concerned by it. Tell me, Kenobi…" Here he paused, waiting patiently as Obi-wan's caffe was set before him. When the waitress had moved on, he continued. "Do you think it possible for a man such as myself, formally trained in the ways of the Force as I am, to remain in the Light without the title of Jedi?"

Obi-wan's eyes narrowed as he wondered where, exactly, the older man was going with this. Instead of answering, he took a sip of his caffe and winced slightly at the bitterness even as he reveled in its warmth. "Formal training has nothing to do with it," he finally said, eyeing the man. "Sith are formally trained as well." He smiled slightly when Dooku conceded his point with a tiny nod. "You're asking a slightly different question of me, and I'm not sure I have an answer for you… I did not come here out of blind service to the Order. I admit that finally knowing your whereabouts was good incentive to come, but I was curious more than anything. Those who leave the Order are not known to remain in contact."

Yan smiled slightly and gave him a very pointed look. "My dear boy… are you changing the subject in the hopes that I won't force an answer out of you or are you simply too afraid to bring the Order's shortcomings out into the light?"

Obi-wan looked away and took a breath to quell his rising irritation. When he looked back, Dooku was still waiting for an answer. "I spent over a decade training under Qui-gon," he bit out, blue eyes glinting harshly in the dim lighting. "My loyalty to the Jedi Order is neither blind nor unconditional. I trained under perhaps the most rebellious Jedi in recent memory. I learned things. Don't presume to point out the Order's imperfections to me."

In the face of the Jedi's rising ire, Dooku merely raised a brow. "And yet you stay."

"I stay," Obi-wan said, "because I am a Jedi, I believe in the Code, and I serve the Republic. I stay because that is my home. That is where I belong. It is –"

"Is it?" Dooku calmly interrupted. Though his voice remained indifferently cool, his dark eyes had begun to simmer with hidden tension. "You tell me you learned things. Do know why I took Qui-gon as my padawan?"

Obi-wan blinked, suddenly speechless.

Yan inwardly smirked at the younger man's stunned countenance. "Even Master Yoda does not know for certain why I took him as a padawan, though I believe he has an idea. I was even younger than you are now. Twenty years old, to be exact."

If possible, Obi-wan's wide eyes grew even wider. "You were only twenty?"

Dooku nodded. "Yes, but I never intended to take a padawan. I just happened to observe a few of his duels during one of the tournaments and decided no one else would do."

"Do? But you just said you didn't intend…"

"As a master," he clarified, looking hard at the Jedi, daring him to argue. "No one else would do as Qui-gon's master. He was… free. Yes, his lightsaber skills were exceptional, if still hopelessly raw." He said this with a dismissive flick of a few fingers and a disgusted sniff. "Those alone would have caught any Jedi Knight's attention, but it was his personality that caught mine. He was unfettered, unrestricted, and almost entirely unaffected by the Academy's indoctrinated upbringing. I didn't want him to lose that."

Obi-wan watched as Dooku finally looked away and began to swirl his drink once more. The older man was clearly lost in thought and Obi-wan swore he saw miniscule signs of grief in the furrow between his silvery brows. He had never known Dooku well; the man's assignments had made it so that he had rarely been at the Temple. Even so, Obi-wan thought he had known him well enough through Qui-gon. "Yes, padawan, we have our differences, but he is not a cold man like so many like to believe. He's just… driven."

Staring at him then, Obi-wan felt like he was looking at a stranger. This wasn't the Yan Dooku that he had interacted with every so often at the Temple. This wasn't the closed-off, elegant master with the snake-like charm that naturally oozed confidence.

This man was grieving. Obi-wan wondered for the first time if he owed something to Dooku. A thank you, perhaps. If nothing else. "So you decided to foster a rebellion in the ranks?" he asked, smiling a little.

Dark eyes flicked back to his and when they caught the smile, Dooku's own countenance lightened just a touch. "Nonsense. He was already a rebel. I simply preserved him."

They shared a short moment of reminiscence before Qui-gon's obvious absence settled heavily upon them once more. "Why?"

"Because he was different, Obi-wan." Dooku paused, seeming to realize it was the first time he'd used the Jedi's first name. "The rest of the Order, the Council foremost among them, look at anyone who's different and seek to mold them into 'tools' of their precious Code, as if they have monopolized all truth when it comes to knowing and understanding the Force. Don't misunderstand me," he emphasized, apparently catching Obi-wan's look. "There are differences among Jedi, differences among the various species that are encouraged, but when it comes to following the Code that you claim to believe so wholeheartedly, there is only one way to do so. And they think they know it."

"They do," Obi-wan told him, eyes unwavering, voice firm.

But Dooku only barked out a short laugh. "Then you learned nothing."

"Just because I trained under him for fourteen years, just because I looked up to him and loved him –"

"Love," Dooku interrupted, smiling slightly, "is forbidden, Knight Kenobi."

Obi-wan flinched as if he'd been slapped.

Dooku tapped a finger on their table as he stared at him for a long moment, and then he sighed. "Love is different than attachment, but the Council thinks they are one and the same. Even at twenty, I was already going on missions as a Sentinel, and I had encountered things I was hardly prepared for. They left… scars. Qui-gon came along and in him I found something that could maybe defeat the darkness. The Council looks at the Force and sees a Light side and a Dark side. It took me only a few missions to find the gray area between them and wonder, not for the first time mind you, if those were only names for things we didn't understand. I'm not sure the Jedi truly know what Light and Dark are. They look at passion and decide serenity is the way to go because passion uncontrolled can lead to reckless zeal."

Obi-wan, sensing the mockery behind Dooku's words, decided an interruption was in order. "Serenity is safer. Only when we are at peace, can we truly understand the Force's will. Passion can be good, but it far too often leads us down the wrong road."

Dooku nodded as he listened. "There is truth to your words, but have you considered the Code of the Sith?"

Obi-wan tensed. "I try not to."

Dooku smiled again, but Obi-wan was beginning to see something shady in his smile. "Please, Obi-wan. Hear me out for just a minute."

"It's Knight Kenobi," Obi-wan corrected, holding the former Jedi's gaze when the man's eyes narrowed.

"I am far too old to indulge in petty posturing, Kenobi," Dooku snapped. "I am neither a Sith, nor do I intend to become one. Now please. Show me some evidence for your budding reputation, and hear me out."

Obi-wan seethed silently, but nodded.

"The Sith claim no peace, only passion, which as far as I'm concerned is just as ridiculous as the notion that there is no passion, only serenity. Yet there is one bit of truth that follows: they say that passion lends them strength. Correct me if I am wrong, but Qui-gon's strength rested in his passion and his zeal for life. In his passion for helping other people. In his passion to attain truth, even if it led him on paths contrary to the Council. Passion, Knight Kenobi, is far stronger than serenity." Dooku paused and looked down at his drink. "If only the Order had more passion for what they believe in. Then maybe they wouldn't be destined to fall. Then maybe they could put an end to the Sith."

"By becoming like them," Obi-wan argued, voice growing clipped. "Slaves to their emotions."

Dooku's half-smile made another appearance. "We are all slaves to our emotions, Kenobi. The Sith simply indulge them while the Jedi attempt to control them. Two extremes that have their own problems. I certainly won't claim to have any answers. Not yet. But Qui-gon, I think, was beginning to get it right. I encouraged his passion, not sure of where it would lead, but knowing that tempering it would do nothing. I never sought to subdue his joy or staunch his anger. Anger, if directed at the right things, is not dangerous. But I digress."

"We digress," Obi-wan muttered, eyeing the man closely before glancing away. Digressing into things he hadn't been expecting. Not at all. He hummed softly, tapping his mug of caffe and watching the tiny ripples. "My master was different, I grant you that, but he stayed."

"Yes," Dooku agreed softly. "Yes he did. I… commend him for that."

Obi-wan tilted his head. "So did you, for a time. Until he –" He couldn't say it.

"Yes." A heavy silence followed and was ended by another sigh from the older man. "I stayed because he stayed. He was… well…"

Obi-wan watched his grandmaster stutter a bit and almost chuckled at the odd picture. Dooku didn't stutter very well.

"He held me together."

The words were so soft that he barely heard them, but when he did, something shifted between them. He wasn't sure if Dooku felt it too, but Obi-wan was no longer on edge. Instead, he was both humbled and bothered by the former Jedi's confession.

Bothered because, well… because it implied something about his presence here.

"And now?" he asked, almost fearing the answer. Yan Dooku had been a powerful Jedi in his own way, and Obi-wan wondered what might happen now that the man was no longer bound by the Council's authority.

"Now?" Dooku looked at him again, expression still set in stone while his eyes implored the young Jedi to understand. "I'm not sure. I suppose I'll reclaim my title on Serenno and see what opportunities present themselves, but that depends on your actions."

Obi-wan blinked. "My actions?"

The half-smile appeared again and in it there were no shadows, only some sort of longing that caught the younger man off guard. "I told Qui-gon once that his compassion would result in hardship, because he cared too much. When Xanatos fell… it was difficult. I thought he might get stuck in it…"

When he didn't continue, Obi-wan pushed, "And?"

Dark eyes pinned him in place. "You happened. I couldn't help him. I was consistently off-planet and though I was frustrated by the fact that no one else seemed to understand the poor man, my assignments kept me away. But then I heard that he took on another apprentice and that things were getting better. He occasionally sent me missives about you, mostly complaints that he was having a hard time disobeying the Council with a rule-follower under his wing."

This drew a sad smile from Obi-wan. "Yes. I picked up on his frustration from time to time."

"I sympathized with him."

Finally, finally, Dooku caught a glimpse of mischief when the corner of Obi-wan's mouth twitched. "I'm sure," the Jedi deadpanned.

Yan smiled in memory, but then grew serious again. "You asked me why I wanted to meet with you. I want to extend an offer to you."

"I'm listening."

"Come with me."

"Pardon?" Obi-wan wasn't sure he'd heard right. Go with him? What was the blasted man thinking that he thought Obi-wan would even entertain the idea?

Dooku looked slightly amused, but he still repeated himself. "Come with me. Anakin is not suited for the Order and, if I may be frank, neither are you."

Obi-wan was a Jedi… wasn't he?

I will train the boy, with or without your permission.

A Jedi obeyed the Council, but he certainly hadn't. He had felt oddly justified in not doing so.

"Loyalty to the Order is one thing, Kenobi. I admire your unwavering devotion, even if I find it misplaced. Your loyalty to Qui-gon, however…" Dooku looked… proud. "I have a great deal of respect for that, even if you do not accept my offer."

This man respected his decision. Dooku was the first one who had. Obi-wan knew that Tahl would have done the same, but she was gone too. At first he was encouraged by the man's words, but then logic took over and he wondered if the former Jedi was just buttering him up. Trying out flattery for the sake of luring another Jedi away to accompany him on whatever star-forsaken mission he was chasing after next.

Not surprisingly, Dooku guessed his train of thought. "I see my reputation isn't helping here."

"You're asking me to forsake everything I've worked towards, everything I aspire to be, and you're asking me to throw away Anakin's dream to be a Jedi for what, exactly?" Obi-wan sat back, waiting to see what Dooku's answer would be. Maybe he could just up and leave the Order as if it was a minor thing, but Obi-wan couldn't. He had friends there. Mentors who he respected. A purpose he believed in. He belonged there, contrary to what Dooku obviously believed.

The older man looked surprised. "You're considering it?"

Unsettled that he actually was mulling the idea over, Obi-wan took a deep breath. "Convince me."

Encouraged, Dooku leaned forward and steepled his fingers before him. "What's preventing you from saying yes?"

A ginger brow ticked up in sarcastic disbelief. "Many things."

"Name the most important to you."

Obi-wan held his grandmaster's gaze as he thought it over. "My place is with the Order, serving the Republic and doing my part to maintain peace, as is a Jedi's duty. I was raised under the Code and Qui-gon trained me to be a Jedi. Now you're asking me to leave it all behind. I can't help but feel that I would be betraying my master's teachings if I were to abandon the Order entirely."

Dooku nodded and surprised Obi-wan when he smiled. "I'm surprised you didn't mention young Skywalker first."

Obi-wan gave him a look. "No you're not, but points for manipulating the conversation," he retorted, narrowing his eyes when Dooku only smirked. "Anakin is the only reason I am considering your offer."

Dooku nodded, obviously having guessed this already. "As he should be. The boy is too old to begin training as a Jedi. Even if the disadvantages of his age could be avoided or at least subdued, his unique past presents some difficult issues to overcome. Especially for a Jedi."

"What do you know of Anakin?" Obi-wan asked, eyes narrowing a touch.

"I know enough." Dooku took another sip of his drink. "Former slaves do not belong in the Order, and former slaves who haven't yet reached the age of thirteen belong with their families. Unless you can be something of a parent towards this boy, you have no place as his master."

Obi-wan was silent in the face of Dooku's blunt assessment of the situation. Truth be told, Obi-wan knew Anakin would have a difficult time being separated from his mother. That much had been obvious when they'd brought him to the Temple to stand before the Council. The boy had been very defensive, as if being away from home necessitated some sort of false confidence. He'd also never left Qui-gon's side.

"Do you think Qui-gon intended be a father-figure to him?" he finally asked, fearing the answer. He had loved the man dearly, and yet his deceased master's decision to set him aside in the hopes of training Anakin still stung.

Dooku was silent for a long moment before he answered. "I cannot speak for what Qui-gon might have done; I only know what he did, and he was very much a father-figure to you." Dooku smiled gently when Obi-wan looked away. "Knowing him as I did, I imagine he saw you as something of a son, in the same way he saw Xanatos and Feemor. I don't believe he handled this situation as he should have, but don't disrespect the man he was by believing that he cast you aside in favor of the Skywalker boy. That fool was impulsive to a fault at times, but I don't believe he ever meant to hurt you."

Obi-wan's vision was blurring and he hastily blinked the tears away, embarrassed to have to do so in front of Dooku. "Thank you, master," he muttered.

Dooku chose to ignore the Jedi's emotional display and moved on. "I'll make this as brief as I can… You and Anakin would be welcome to live with me on my estate in Serenno, negating any worries you might have concerning living expenses and housing arrangements. While I certainly have my own opinions as to how you should raise that boy up and how he should be trained, I will not intervene unless you ask. I leave his training entirely up to you as it was you in whom Qui-gon placed his trust concerning young Skywalker." He paused, seeming to gather his thoughts. "Furthermore, education will be provided for the boy whether through private tutoring or through Serenno's own systems. It is up to you. I will also make arrangements for his mother to join us –"

"His mother?" Obi-wan interrupted, eyes flashing back to Dooku's. He stared hard at the man, trying to gauge the genuineness of what he had just said. "You would do that? Free Anakin's mother?"

Dooku's brows rose in unison. "The child was raised by his mother, Kenobi. Neither you nor I had the privilege of being raised in such a way. Leaving her to toil as a slave for the rest of her days while Skywalker wonders how she fares seems like a cruel fate to bestow on the two of them, wouldn't you agree?"

Obi-wan swallowed, blown away by the man's generosity. And the Council was just going to leave her be. Occasional visits and the like… "Yes, yes of course it's cruel, but I don't understand…"

Dooku sighed. "No. You don't, do you. You're a Jedi through and through, even though you claim to see the Order's faults. The Council is blinded, Kenobi. They have been for some time now and I've ceased trying to change their mind. For them, Skywalker's mother is an attachment that he must be weaned from. They can't possibly understand the fact that he needs her, and to be completely honest with you, neither can I." Obi-wan blinked at this, but Dooku only gave him a half-smile. "I was raised a Jedi too, you know. But I've been to many worlds where slavery is an industry, and I've seen the bonds formed between family members living in slavery. Anakin needs his mother. The Council has the means to attain her, but will not." Dooku made sure Obi-wan was looking at him. "I also have the means to buy her freedom and will do so. At whatever cost is asked."

Obi-wan nodded, struggling to comprehend the opportunities now available to him. It had made sense to train Anakin as a Jedi. He thought Qui-gon would have wanted that, but now… Now the monotonous ache of the last few months was fading to be replaced by excitement over something new. Even so, he wasn't one to make emotional decisions and he still wasn't fully convinced.

"Would you free her if I refuse?"

Dooku eyed him from across the table. "If you asked on behalf of the boy, yes. I would."

"For Qui-gon?"

"For Anakin," Dooku clarified.

Obi-wan finally smiled again. "Good." He ran a hand over his head, still miffed by his short hair but unable to refrain from the nervous habit. "So. There is clearly a lot to like about Anakin's situation under your roof. What of mine?"

"You wouldn't be abandoning anything, Kenobi –"

"Only my entire life up to this point. Why should I leave the Jedi?"

"You're asking the wrong question, my boy. There are plenty of reasons for you to leave the Order. I won't insult you by listing them. No… the question for you is: how can you still fulfill your duty as a Jedi without remaining in the Order?"

Obi-wan tilted his head, considering the situation from this new angle. The whole thing was still surreal, in a way. For the first time, he glanced around the small tavern and wondered what it would be like to live on a different planet, away from the Temple, outside of the influence of the Order. He wondered what life as a non-Jedi would look like. Memories of Melida-Daan flashed briefly into his mind, but he quickly moved on from them. That had been during a civil war. This was different. This would be a normal life. Well… a new normal, anyway.

"You seem uncertain."

He glanced at Dooku again to find the man watching him with a slightly troubled expression. "I am uncertain. This isn't some minor change."

Dooku glanced down, smiling a little. "No. It is not." One of his hands disappeared into his cloak and reappeared with a small comm unit in its grasp. "Think about it and then inform me of your decision. I will expect to hear from you within the next three days."

Obi-wan took the private comm and tucked it within his own cloak. "And if my decision is to stay?"

Dooku finished off his drink and smiled wryly. "Then you can inform the Council that I am returning home and they will hear no more from me or of me unless I wish for them to hear it." When Obi-wan gave him a dubious look, he merely raised a brow at him. "You doubt my words?"

"They know where you live and what your position is. Being a Count on an Outer Rim planet with a history of sedition doesn't really lend itself to an inconspicuous life."

Dooku tried not to smile as he stood up. "I don't intend for it to be inconspicuous. But your Order will only know what I want them to know. I can promise you that." This time when the smile slipped through it was all sharp edges and wry humor.

Obi-wan had a bad feeling about it, but after a long, searching look at the older man, he only shrugged. He stood, only now just realizing that Dooku was as tall as Qui-gon had been, if not taller. Something that normally would have had him frowning at his own lack of stature now had him looking away with a sharp pang of grief. Qui-gon was gone.

Forever.

And it hurt something awful. When he took a steadying breath and looked back, he found that Dooku's piercing eyes had taken on a slightly softer quality. He wouldn't call the look gentle, but the man definitely seemed concerned. "I… before you go…" Obi-wan smiled slightly. "Thank you."

Yan Dooku, hearing everything those two words implied, nodded once. "Of course." Turning, he glanced once over his shoulder. "Three days. Don't forget."

Obi-wan nodded and watched the man leave. A few minutes later, he stepped outside and started walking, not caring that his cowl was lowered or that the rain was quickly pooling itself into the folds of his cloak. He had a lot to think over.