Title: Ascendency
Author: Taryn Daniels
Time Period: 3 years after TPM, Obi Wan is 28, Anakin 12
Summary: Obi Wan is not allowed to train Anakin. He must deal with the consequences of his broken promise, while performing his duties as a Jedi on a mysterious mission. A Work in Progress.
Rating: PG-13 for angst, mild language, violence. (May be R eventually?)
Reviews/ Feedback: Yes PLEASE!!! It's like water and air to me.
Archive: Yes, but Please ask permission first.
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, I don't profit off 'em, I just write about 'em, then let 'em go home to Georgie. My original characters prefer to stick together, so please don't kidnap them.
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CHAPTER ONE: A Broken Promise
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Simple. Elegant. Deadly.
Truly the weapon of a Jedi Master.
The silver and black cylinder chilled Obi-Wan Kenobi's hands with a cold inner fire. The strange sensation seeped into his arms, no less real than the ache in his heavy heart.
"Why, Master . . . Why ?" He gripped the weapon more tightly and let his forehead sink down to touch its sleek surface, weeping for a future that could never be.
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The diminutive Jedi's walking stick clacked harshly against the glossy floor of the Theed Palace. Large green eyes fixed on the kneeling form before him as his pacing continued. Mace Windu usually handled the administrative functions of the council, but Yoda felt he had to attend to this matter personally. He owed it to his stricken down colleague, as well as to the subdued young man before him.
Kneeling, head bowed in deference to the revered Master, Obi Wan was the picture of Jedi obedience and calm. Yoda's pacing had gone on for several long minutes. Obi Wan waited in anticipation, attempting to clear his mind and absorb whatever news Yoda had to impart to him.
A Pause. The small green master rested in front of Padawan Kenobi, gazing intently, feeling not only the waves of tension coming from the boy, but also his attempt to still them. The pacing continued.
"Confer on you the level of Jedi Knight, the council does." A small smile played across Obi Wan's face, betraying his pleasure at this news.
Obi Wan's victory against the mysterious Sith warrior had proven his worthiness to the Council, so much so that they unanimously decided to forgo the traditional Trials and promote him outright. The alternative, assigning him a new Master and making him wait, seemed unnecessary and unconscionable.
"But agree with your taking this boy as your Padawan learner, I do not!" The stick rapped three times against the floor in emphasis.
Consternation flittered across Obi Wan's face for an instant before he could regain his neutral expression. He spoke up in the most respectful tone he could muster. "Qui Gon believed in him. "
Yoda sighed heavily and came to rest in front of this newly Knighted Jedi whom he knew to be more than competent and strong in the Force. Obi Wan had arguably been the most talented, promising Padawan in recent memory. "The Chosen One the boy may be. Nevertheless, grave danger, I fear, in his training."
Steely determination shone in Obi Wan's eyes. His tone was clipped with thinly veiled tension. "Master Yoda, I gave Qui Gon my word. I will train Anakin!"
A frustrated growl emanated from Yoda as he resumed his steps.
"Without the approval of The Council, if I must. " His resolve was firm, his threat no idle one. Obi Wan held his mouth in a thin stubborn line.
Yoda turned his back on the young man. "Qui Gon's defiance I sense in you. Need that, you do not. " A decision, a compromise . . . A mistake? "Train the boy, the council will. He will be treated as any other initiate. Master Windu and I will oversee this, and offer extra instruction." He turned to face Obi Wan once more. "Ready for a Padawan, you are not. Especially one who comes so late to the Order."
Obi Wan's dismay showed on his face briefly, and was then replaced with his usual impassive stare. "I would like to be given the opportunity to prove my worthiness. "
"Denied!" Yoda pointed his stick at Obi Wan and spoke with finality. "Felt your anger when fighting the Sith, I did. Strong it was, very strong. " His stick returned to touch the floor, and he sent waves of compassion to the obviously distraught man. "Understand, I do, your anger. Losing Qui Gon to the Sith. Very painful. But master your feelings, you must. Almost got you killed, your rage did. Need some time on your own, without a Padawan, you do."
Obi Wan breathed in and out, using the Force to let his frustrations go. He knew Yoda was correct. His moments of uncontrolled hatred during the difficult battle had allowed the Sith to very nearly defeat him. Only when he centered himself and found calm in the Force was he able to recover and find ultimate victory. Still, he had given his word. His head bowed down as he pleaded his case once more.
"Master Yoda, you are right, I did lose my temper. But I made a vow to Qui Gon, a vow I will not break. Please allow me to train the boy."
Yoda stepped forward to place a gnarled hand on Obi Wan's shoulder. "No, young Kenobi. Train the boy, you will not. You vowed you would see Anakin trained, and so you shall. Anakin has much to learn to join his age-mates. These things, the Council and I will teach him. When his place he has earned, and if ready you are, then take him as Padawan, you may. But not before."
Obi Wan nodded in resignation. He had frequently advised his Master to cease defying the Council. He believed they knew the best course of action. He must bend to their will. It was the proper Jedi way. "Yes Master. Thank you for your counsel." He fixed his eyes on the wall, holding back the strong feelings that suddenly flooded him. "I have one request, Master Yoda, if I may . . . "
Yoda straightened and cleared his throat, the strength of Obi Wan's emotions playing around his mind, even though he knew the young man was shielding them tightly. "Yes, Knight Kenobi, tell me this request."
"My braid . " Obi Wan's hand strayed to the lock of hair over his right shoulder, then returned to rest on his knee. Qui Gon should have been able to sever that braid at his Knighting ceremony. He should have been able to keep it as a remembrance of the 13 years they had spent as Master and Padawan, as father and son. Sudden tears sprung to Obi Wan's eyes, and were blinked away almost as fast as they had come. There would be no ceremony. Not without Qui Gon. "I would like for you to sever it, so I may lay it with Qui Gon on his bier tonight. I would like him to have it. He has earned it. " The young man's throat constricted and he swallowed audibly.
Yoda's ears drooped, his eyes softened. He had assumed Obi Wan would have a public Knighting ceremony, perhaps with himself or Mace Windu performing Qui Gon's role. But this was not a festive occasion to the young Knight, and the ceremony was not required by the Code.
"Of course, Obi Wan. Are you sure, a formal ceremony, you do not want?" He felt he had to ask, to hear the young man plainly refuse. The ceremony was the most important day in many Knight's lives. The single moment they had been working for since infancy. A moment which cemented the commitment to the Jedi order, which declared to all that the service of the Light was first, foremost, always.
"Yes, Master Yoda. I am quite sure." Obi Wan gazed placidly at the small form before him. His eyes were clear, his expression bland. He knew he would not regret this decision. A ceremony under these circumstances would seem a mockery of all he and Qui Gon had been through together.
"You wish me to sever your braid now then?" Yoda inquired.
Obi Wan's gaze remained steadily fixed on the wall behind Master Yoda. His voice hitched so slightly that Yoda almost didn't hear it. "Yes. Please." Now his eyes moved to Yoda's, their depths a clear gray. The gray of sorrow and resignation.
Yoda stretched his hand out to Obi Wan's head, lightly grasping the braid close behind his right ear. He sent a thread of the force out to the hair woven there, and the strands separated at his touch. His fingers came away with a long shock of hair, mixed brown and ginger at the top . . . fading to ginger only a few inches down. Qui Gon's contribution from his youth contrasted sharply with the red-blonde of Obi Wan's. Silently, Yoda pressed the lock into his open palm.
"Thank you, Master." The catch in Kenobi's voice was not so well controlled this time.
Yoda sensed that the boy needed time alone to meditate. "Welcome, you are, Obi Wan. Prepare for tonight, I must. See you at the service, I will."
With that, Yoda and his staff thumped out of the Palace room, closing the door quickly behind him.
Obi Wan held the lock of hair in his lap and took up a meditation position. The happiness he felt at being Knighted was overshadowed by his intense grief. Rather to be a Padawan for the rest of his days than have it end like this. His sense of the Force was strong, however, and he knew that these events had happened for a reason. All he had to do was subjugate his emotions and do what he could to honor his Master's memory. To be the Jedi Knight Qui Gon had trained him to be.
It would not be easy. But then, nothing ever was.
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--3 Years Later--
"Wow, you look different!" Young Anakin Skywalker exclaimed as Obi Wan opened the door to his quarters.
Obi Wan gazed down at the boy with a crooked grin. "Hello, Anakin. What can I do for you today?" He had been off on missions almost continually since his Knighting. The boy had not changed much, even though Obi Wan hadn't set eyes on Anakin since their return from Naboo. Since Qui Gon's funeral and the big parade the next day, which neither of them had felt any joy in attending.
Anakin peered around the man in front of him, eyeing the bowl of fruit on his entry table. "May I come in, Master? Please?" The boy's voice was on the verge of changing, and wobbled between boyish tenor and mature baritone.
A bit flustered, wanting to relax after so many months away, Obi Wan reluctantly smiled and waved a hand toward the kitchen area.
"Of course, Anakin, please, come in." Obi Wan could tell the boy coveted his tomba fruit. "Would you like a tomba, Ani?"
Young blue eyes lit up and the boy nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! Thank you, Master." He reached for the purple skinned fruit as a dark look came over his face. "But please, DON'T call me 'Ani'. It makes me sound like a little kid!"
Taken aback by the sharpness in Anakin's tone, Obi Wan frowned down at the boy. "There is no shame in being a child, when you ARE a child, Anakin."
The forbidding look intensified and the Jedi observed the fruit's thin skin rupture as Ani's pale fingers dug into it. Then, as fast as it had come, the angry expression was gone.
"Yes." A sigh. "You're right, of course, Obi Wan." The juice running down his fingers was quickly licked away. "So." A bite of fruit and hasty chewing, followed by a loud swallow. "Where have you been all this time?"
Obi Wan was astonished. Uncertain if he should call the boy on his sudden outburst of temper, he hesitated for a moment. Sitting down at the table next to Ani, he grabbed a tomba from the fruit bowl and examined it slowly.
"Obi Wan?" Anakin asked expectantly. The change of address had not gone unnoticed, merely unchallenged.
"I've, ah," Obi Wan took a bit of fruit and chewed slowly, biding time. A decision and a hasty swallow resumed the conversation. "Oh, you know, here, there, a few different places. Mostly boring diplomatic things you would not thrill at hearing." He threw Anakin a lopsided grin, remembering his own indifference to politics while he resided at the Temple.
~~ I am not the boy's Master. It is not my place to reprimand or intrude. Maybe he has just had a bad day. ~~
Placing the fruit down on the table, Obi Wan rested his elbows on the mahogany surface, set his chin in his hands, and silently observed the boy for a few moments.
He was the same Ani, a bit older, a bit larger. And something else. Something Obi Wan could not quite put his finger on.
Shaking a sudden feeling of foreboding off, Kenobi smiled at the boy warmly. "So, tell me, how do you like life at the Temple? Learned a lot, made some friends I imagine?"
At the word 'friends', Ani stopped chewing abruptly and darkened once more. As before, the look passed in a heartbeat. "Oh yeah, sure. Fine, it's been fine, here." Anakin gazed into nothingness and his chewing resumed. His eyes met Obi Wan's with bright inquisitiveness, and his voice took on a spirited tone. "But YOU, Master, why do you look like you do? You DO look different, don't you? Or am I just," His brow knotted. "Crazy?" More chewing. The boy seemed to use mastication as a stress management technique.
Young Kenobi was honestly puzzled for a moment. "What? Oh! I had almost forgotten! I have been on Solinia so long, I'm used to it at this point. My last mission was extended, I had been there almost two standard years." Obi Wan let his hand trail up to run through his hair, an absentminded gesture he had adopted over time. He noted the boy reclining in his chair, a look of relaxed interest on his face. Having just returned to his home, the mission was the last thing he desired to talk about...But seeing Anakin sedate and calm was worth expounding.
"Solinia is very reclusive. They have no contact with other worlds. They ARE part of the Republic, but only allow trade through import and export conducted off of one of their moons, which is uninhabited except for an outpost designed expressly for this purpose." The Jedi took another bite of his tomba, gauging Ani's interest level. The boy nodded as if to say 'yes, yes, go on...'
"At any rate, there is some conflict in the government, and I was sent to try to ease negotiations. As for my appearance, since there is no travel between Solinia and, well, ANYWHERE, it was determined that I would have to look like a native to move peaceably among the general population. A bit of undercover work, if you will." Obi Wan winked slyly at his young companion, earning a small smile in return.
"The government involved know I am Jedi, of course, since they requested my presence. But outside of official chambers I was to merely be a visiting native from a nearby island." Obi Wan smiled and fiddled with the tomba pit, spinning it on the table.
Anakin grinned at the young man he had wanted so desperately to see for the past three years. "I would never have recognized you! With your hair that color, and long like that. Your skin even looks a little darker, and your eyes? They aren't naturally PURPLE are they?" The small nose wrinkled in distaste.
Kenobi laughed out loud, a sound not often heard, by anyone. "No, young Anakin, my eyes are not normally this color. But I fit in very well on Solinia, make no mistake."
The boy nodded in understanding. "So why haven't you changed back to your regular self yet? Don't tell me you decided to stay this way?" The look of disapproval on the young boy's face set Obi Wan off to laughing once more.
~~It's nice to be HOME~~
"No, Anakin, I just haven't had time to change. I literally just got home when you came buzzing my door. And I have...other reasons." The young man languidly rose from his chair and sauntered into the kitchen area. He rested against the counter and looked once more to his small visitor. ~~Not so small anymore, though.~~
Turning in his chair, Anakin finished his fruit off, placed the pit on the table and stared at the fruit bowl longingly.
"Help yourself Ani, uh, Anakin." A head shake and a smile as the Jedi remembered his own infamously large appetite at that age. "Would you like a drink? I've been away so long, all I have is water, I'm afraid." The boy nodded, his mouth too full to speak.
Obi Wan reached up for the cabinet and took two glasses down. Filling one with water and the other with Solinian whiskey, he returned to his chair to find Anakin working on his third tomba fruit. He set the water in front of the boy and took a liberal swig of his own drink.
"Hey!" Anakin protested. "I thought you only had water!" A small pout before the boy took a sip of the clear liquid.
"Sorry, lad." Obi Wan smiled mischievously. "This stuff will put hair on your chest, and you're not old enough for that kind of thing yet. Solinia may have it's problems, but making good whiskey is NOT one of them." The Jedi leaned back in his chair and put his booted feet up on his dining room table. One arm flung behind his head, the other cradling the glass of precious amber liquid, he smiled at Anakin and raised his glass. "Here's to my first totally failed mission, my boy."
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--The Following Day--
They had been sparring for nearly an hour when Obi Wan's comlink beeped insistently.
Anakin had only been in training for 3 years, but he had learned much. His skills with a saber rivaled those who had been at Temple much longer. Even still, the boy was no match for Obi Wan Kenobi.
As the fight went on, Anakin realized the knight was going easy on him. He wasn't even really TRYING. The man had not faltered once, and his faraway look told Anakin that Obi Wan's mind wasn't even all that focused on their fight.
The man was barely paying attention, and still managing to block every thrust, find every opening, and give no ground whatsoever.
Anger washed over the boy once more, as it had several times during the match. He knew that Kenobi was considered equal to Mace Windu and inferior only to Yoda as a swordsman, but even so, to be unable to rattle the man at all, especially when Obi Wan was so obviously preoccupied, enraged the initiate to the point of outwardly losing control.
Obi Wan, attending to his comlink, sensed none of this. He stepped out of the training circle and deactivated his lightsaber with a quick nod to Anakin. Turning his back on the boy, he thumbed the device on as the beeping subsided. "Kenobi."
The word was not even off his lips when Obi Wan felt a white hot pain sear through the skin on his back. Crying out in pain and surprise, he reacted immediately, throwing himself to the ground and twisting as he activated his lightsaber, just in time to see Anakin deactivate his weapon and run full speed out of the training room.
"Obi Wan!?" Mace Windu had heard the man cry out, and his worried voice spoke through the comlink, which had been dropped in Obi Wan's attempt to defend himself. "What's going on there!?"
Shocked beyond all reason, it took Obi Wan a few moments to gather his wits enough to reach for the device and speak as calmly as possible. He pulled himself into a sitting position and stared towards the door that had provided Anakin's hasty exit. The pain in his back was intense, and he realized at once that the boy must have notched the power on his saber up to well above training level.
"Obi Wan!" Mace's voice reverberated in the empty room, sounding even more irritated than previously.
"Ah," Kenobi calmed himself even as he spoke. "Yes, Master Windu, I'm here now."
"What is going on? Talk to me, Kenobi!" Agitation fairly flowed from the comlink, almost a physical manifestation in the room.
Obi Wan sighed and wished he had time to think before speaking to the stern council member. "Ah," The pain in his back was not subsiding, and his vision swam a bit as he used the Force to dull the fire in his skin. "Just a little mishap in the training room, Master Windu. What can I do for you?"
"......" A long pause from Mace's side of the conversation. A sigh of irritation. "Report to the council chamber at once." And the Master clicked off, his decree given, his dialog ended.
Obi Wan allowed himself a few more moments to sit on the training room floor. He did not know which was worse. The physical pain of the wound that he knew was much more than just a scratch...Or the knowledge that Anakin Skywalker, The Chosen One, beloved of his late Master, the boy Qui Gon had spent his last few seconds of life protecting by extracting an unreasonable, and ultimately unfulfillable, promise from his own Padawan...Had just attacked him in cold blood with a nearly full powered lightsaber.
~~No. I DO know which is worse. No contest.~~
His thoughts a jumble of pain, confusion, and dismay -but noticeably not anger- Obi Wan pulled himself up off the floor. He knew he should report to the healers, but Windu was not a man to keep waiting. Heaving a heavy sigh, Kenobi slowly made his way towards the Council chamber.
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TO BE CONTINUED...
Author: Taryn Daniels
Time Period: 3 years after TPM, Obi Wan is 28, Anakin 12
Summary: Obi Wan is not allowed to train Anakin. He must deal with the consequences of his broken promise, while performing his duties as a Jedi on a mysterious mission. A Work in Progress.
Rating: PG-13 for angst, mild language, violence. (May be R eventually?)
Reviews/ Feedback: Yes PLEASE!!! It's like water and air to me.
Archive: Yes, but Please ask permission first.
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, I don't profit off 'em, I just write about 'em, then let 'em go home to Georgie. My original characters prefer to stick together, so please don't kidnap them.
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CHAPTER ONE: A Broken Promise
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Simple. Elegant. Deadly.
Truly the weapon of a Jedi Master.
The silver and black cylinder chilled Obi-Wan Kenobi's hands with a cold inner fire. The strange sensation seeped into his arms, no less real than the ache in his heavy heart.
"Why, Master . . . Why ?" He gripped the weapon more tightly and let his forehead sink down to touch its sleek surface, weeping for a future that could never be.
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The diminutive Jedi's walking stick clacked harshly against the glossy floor of the Theed Palace. Large green eyes fixed on the kneeling form before him as his pacing continued. Mace Windu usually handled the administrative functions of the council, but Yoda felt he had to attend to this matter personally. He owed it to his stricken down colleague, as well as to the subdued young man before him.
Kneeling, head bowed in deference to the revered Master, Obi Wan was the picture of Jedi obedience and calm. Yoda's pacing had gone on for several long minutes. Obi Wan waited in anticipation, attempting to clear his mind and absorb whatever news Yoda had to impart to him.
A Pause. The small green master rested in front of Padawan Kenobi, gazing intently, feeling not only the waves of tension coming from the boy, but also his attempt to still them. The pacing continued.
"Confer on you the level of Jedi Knight, the council does." A small smile played across Obi Wan's face, betraying his pleasure at this news.
Obi Wan's victory against the mysterious Sith warrior had proven his worthiness to the Council, so much so that they unanimously decided to forgo the traditional Trials and promote him outright. The alternative, assigning him a new Master and making him wait, seemed unnecessary and unconscionable.
"But agree with your taking this boy as your Padawan learner, I do not!" The stick rapped three times against the floor in emphasis.
Consternation flittered across Obi Wan's face for an instant before he could regain his neutral expression. He spoke up in the most respectful tone he could muster. "Qui Gon believed in him. "
Yoda sighed heavily and came to rest in front of this newly Knighted Jedi whom he knew to be more than competent and strong in the Force. Obi Wan had arguably been the most talented, promising Padawan in recent memory. "The Chosen One the boy may be. Nevertheless, grave danger, I fear, in his training."
Steely determination shone in Obi Wan's eyes. His tone was clipped with thinly veiled tension. "Master Yoda, I gave Qui Gon my word. I will train Anakin!"
A frustrated growl emanated from Yoda as he resumed his steps.
"Without the approval of The Council, if I must. " His resolve was firm, his threat no idle one. Obi Wan held his mouth in a thin stubborn line.
Yoda turned his back on the young man. "Qui Gon's defiance I sense in you. Need that, you do not. " A decision, a compromise . . . A mistake? "Train the boy, the council will. He will be treated as any other initiate. Master Windu and I will oversee this, and offer extra instruction." He turned to face Obi Wan once more. "Ready for a Padawan, you are not. Especially one who comes so late to the Order."
Obi Wan's dismay showed on his face briefly, and was then replaced with his usual impassive stare. "I would like to be given the opportunity to prove my worthiness. "
"Denied!" Yoda pointed his stick at Obi Wan and spoke with finality. "Felt your anger when fighting the Sith, I did. Strong it was, very strong. " His stick returned to touch the floor, and he sent waves of compassion to the obviously distraught man. "Understand, I do, your anger. Losing Qui Gon to the Sith. Very painful. But master your feelings, you must. Almost got you killed, your rage did. Need some time on your own, without a Padawan, you do."
Obi Wan breathed in and out, using the Force to let his frustrations go. He knew Yoda was correct. His moments of uncontrolled hatred during the difficult battle had allowed the Sith to very nearly defeat him. Only when he centered himself and found calm in the Force was he able to recover and find ultimate victory. Still, he had given his word. His head bowed down as he pleaded his case once more.
"Master Yoda, you are right, I did lose my temper. But I made a vow to Qui Gon, a vow I will not break. Please allow me to train the boy."
Yoda stepped forward to place a gnarled hand on Obi Wan's shoulder. "No, young Kenobi. Train the boy, you will not. You vowed you would see Anakin trained, and so you shall. Anakin has much to learn to join his age-mates. These things, the Council and I will teach him. When his place he has earned, and if ready you are, then take him as Padawan, you may. But not before."
Obi Wan nodded in resignation. He had frequently advised his Master to cease defying the Council. He believed they knew the best course of action. He must bend to their will. It was the proper Jedi way. "Yes Master. Thank you for your counsel." He fixed his eyes on the wall, holding back the strong feelings that suddenly flooded him. "I have one request, Master Yoda, if I may . . . "
Yoda straightened and cleared his throat, the strength of Obi Wan's emotions playing around his mind, even though he knew the young man was shielding them tightly. "Yes, Knight Kenobi, tell me this request."
"My braid . " Obi Wan's hand strayed to the lock of hair over his right shoulder, then returned to rest on his knee. Qui Gon should have been able to sever that braid at his Knighting ceremony. He should have been able to keep it as a remembrance of the 13 years they had spent as Master and Padawan, as father and son. Sudden tears sprung to Obi Wan's eyes, and were blinked away almost as fast as they had come. There would be no ceremony. Not without Qui Gon. "I would like for you to sever it, so I may lay it with Qui Gon on his bier tonight. I would like him to have it. He has earned it. " The young man's throat constricted and he swallowed audibly.
Yoda's ears drooped, his eyes softened. He had assumed Obi Wan would have a public Knighting ceremony, perhaps with himself or Mace Windu performing Qui Gon's role. But this was not a festive occasion to the young Knight, and the ceremony was not required by the Code.
"Of course, Obi Wan. Are you sure, a formal ceremony, you do not want?" He felt he had to ask, to hear the young man plainly refuse. The ceremony was the most important day in many Knight's lives. The single moment they had been working for since infancy. A moment which cemented the commitment to the Jedi order, which declared to all that the service of the Light was first, foremost, always.
"Yes, Master Yoda. I am quite sure." Obi Wan gazed placidly at the small form before him. His eyes were clear, his expression bland. He knew he would not regret this decision. A ceremony under these circumstances would seem a mockery of all he and Qui Gon had been through together.
"You wish me to sever your braid now then?" Yoda inquired.
Obi Wan's gaze remained steadily fixed on the wall behind Master Yoda. His voice hitched so slightly that Yoda almost didn't hear it. "Yes. Please." Now his eyes moved to Yoda's, their depths a clear gray. The gray of sorrow and resignation.
Yoda stretched his hand out to Obi Wan's head, lightly grasping the braid close behind his right ear. He sent a thread of the force out to the hair woven there, and the strands separated at his touch. His fingers came away with a long shock of hair, mixed brown and ginger at the top . . . fading to ginger only a few inches down. Qui Gon's contribution from his youth contrasted sharply with the red-blonde of Obi Wan's. Silently, Yoda pressed the lock into his open palm.
"Thank you, Master." The catch in Kenobi's voice was not so well controlled this time.
Yoda sensed that the boy needed time alone to meditate. "Welcome, you are, Obi Wan. Prepare for tonight, I must. See you at the service, I will."
With that, Yoda and his staff thumped out of the Palace room, closing the door quickly behind him.
Obi Wan held the lock of hair in his lap and took up a meditation position. The happiness he felt at being Knighted was overshadowed by his intense grief. Rather to be a Padawan for the rest of his days than have it end like this. His sense of the Force was strong, however, and he knew that these events had happened for a reason. All he had to do was subjugate his emotions and do what he could to honor his Master's memory. To be the Jedi Knight Qui Gon had trained him to be.
It would not be easy. But then, nothing ever was.
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--3 Years Later--
"Wow, you look different!" Young Anakin Skywalker exclaimed as Obi Wan opened the door to his quarters.
Obi Wan gazed down at the boy with a crooked grin. "Hello, Anakin. What can I do for you today?" He had been off on missions almost continually since his Knighting. The boy had not changed much, even though Obi Wan hadn't set eyes on Anakin since their return from Naboo. Since Qui Gon's funeral and the big parade the next day, which neither of them had felt any joy in attending.
Anakin peered around the man in front of him, eyeing the bowl of fruit on his entry table. "May I come in, Master? Please?" The boy's voice was on the verge of changing, and wobbled between boyish tenor and mature baritone.
A bit flustered, wanting to relax after so many months away, Obi Wan reluctantly smiled and waved a hand toward the kitchen area.
"Of course, Anakin, please, come in." Obi Wan could tell the boy coveted his tomba fruit. "Would you like a tomba, Ani?"
Young blue eyes lit up and the boy nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! Thank you, Master." He reached for the purple skinned fruit as a dark look came over his face. "But please, DON'T call me 'Ani'. It makes me sound like a little kid!"
Taken aback by the sharpness in Anakin's tone, Obi Wan frowned down at the boy. "There is no shame in being a child, when you ARE a child, Anakin."
The forbidding look intensified and the Jedi observed the fruit's thin skin rupture as Ani's pale fingers dug into it. Then, as fast as it had come, the angry expression was gone.
"Yes." A sigh. "You're right, of course, Obi Wan." The juice running down his fingers was quickly licked away. "So." A bite of fruit and hasty chewing, followed by a loud swallow. "Where have you been all this time?"
Obi Wan was astonished. Uncertain if he should call the boy on his sudden outburst of temper, he hesitated for a moment. Sitting down at the table next to Ani, he grabbed a tomba from the fruit bowl and examined it slowly.
"Obi Wan?" Anakin asked expectantly. The change of address had not gone unnoticed, merely unchallenged.
"I've, ah," Obi Wan took a bit of fruit and chewed slowly, biding time. A decision and a hasty swallow resumed the conversation. "Oh, you know, here, there, a few different places. Mostly boring diplomatic things you would not thrill at hearing." He threw Anakin a lopsided grin, remembering his own indifference to politics while he resided at the Temple.
~~ I am not the boy's Master. It is not my place to reprimand or intrude. Maybe he has just had a bad day. ~~
Placing the fruit down on the table, Obi Wan rested his elbows on the mahogany surface, set his chin in his hands, and silently observed the boy for a few moments.
He was the same Ani, a bit older, a bit larger. And something else. Something Obi Wan could not quite put his finger on.
Shaking a sudden feeling of foreboding off, Kenobi smiled at the boy warmly. "So, tell me, how do you like life at the Temple? Learned a lot, made some friends I imagine?"
At the word 'friends', Ani stopped chewing abruptly and darkened once more. As before, the look passed in a heartbeat. "Oh yeah, sure. Fine, it's been fine, here." Anakin gazed into nothingness and his chewing resumed. His eyes met Obi Wan's with bright inquisitiveness, and his voice took on a spirited tone. "But YOU, Master, why do you look like you do? You DO look different, don't you? Or am I just," His brow knotted. "Crazy?" More chewing. The boy seemed to use mastication as a stress management technique.
Young Kenobi was honestly puzzled for a moment. "What? Oh! I had almost forgotten! I have been on Solinia so long, I'm used to it at this point. My last mission was extended, I had been there almost two standard years." Obi Wan let his hand trail up to run through his hair, an absentminded gesture he had adopted over time. He noted the boy reclining in his chair, a look of relaxed interest on his face. Having just returned to his home, the mission was the last thing he desired to talk about...But seeing Anakin sedate and calm was worth expounding.
"Solinia is very reclusive. They have no contact with other worlds. They ARE part of the Republic, but only allow trade through import and export conducted off of one of their moons, which is uninhabited except for an outpost designed expressly for this purpose." The Jedi took another bite of his tomba, gauging Ani's interest level. The boy nodded as if to say 'yes, yes, go on...'
"At any rate, there is some conflict in the government, and I was sent to try to ease negotiations. As for my appearance, since there is no travel between Solinia and, well, ANYWHERE, it was determined that I would have to look like a native to move peaceably among the general population. A bit of undercover work, if you will." Obi Wan winked slyly at his young companion, earning a small smile in return.
"The government involved know I am Jedi, of course, since they requested my presence. But outside of official chambers I was to merely be a visiting native from a nearby island." Obi Wan smiled and fiddled with the tomba pit, spinning it on the table.
Anakin grinned at the young man he had wanted so desperately to see for the past three years. "I would never have recognized you! With your hair that color, and long like that. Your skin even looks a little darker, and your eyes? They aren't naturally PURPLE are they?" The small nose wrinkled in distaste.
Kenobi laughed out loud, a sound not often heard, by anyone. "No, young Anakin, my eyes are not normally this color. But I fit in very well on Solinia, make no mistake."
The boy nodded in understanding. "So why haven't you changed back to your regular self yet? Don't tell me you decided to stay this way?" The look of disapproval on the young boy's face set Obi Wan off to laughing once more.
~~It's nice to be HOME~~
"No, Anakin, I just haven't had time to change. I literally just got home when you came buzzing my door. And I have...other reasons." The young man languidly rose from his chair and sauntered into the kitchen area. He rested against the counter and looked once more to his small visitor. ~~Not so small anymore, though.~~
Turning in his chair, Anakin finished his fruit off, placed the pit on the table and stared at the fruit bowl longingly.
"Help yourself Ani, uh, Anakin." A head shake and a smile as the Jedi remembered his own infamously large appetite at that age. "Would you like a drink? I've been away so long, all I have is water, I'm afraid." The boy nodded, his mouth too full to speak.
Obi Wan reached up for the cabinet and took two glasses down. Filling one with water and the other with Solinian whiskey, he returned to his chair to find Anakin working on his third tomba fruit. He set the water in front of the boy and took a liberal swig of his own drink.
"Hey!" Anakin protested. "I thought you only had water!" A small pout before the boy took a sip of the clear liquid.
"Sorry, lad." Obi Wan smiled mischievously. "This stuff will put hair on your chest, and you're not old enough for that kind of thing yet. Solinia may have it's problems, but making good whiskey is NOT one of them." The Jedi leaned back in his chair and put his booted feet up on his dining room table. One arm flung behind his head, the other cradling the glass of precious amber liquid, he smiled at Anakin and raised his glass. "Here's to my first totally failed mission, my boy."
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--The Following Day--
They had been sparring for nearly an hour when Obi Wan's comlink beeped insistently.
Anakin had only been in training for 3 years, but he had learned much. His skills with a saber rivaled those who had been at Temple much longer. Even still, the boy was no match for Obi Wan Kenobi.
As the fight went on, Anakin realized the knight was going easy on him. He wasn't even really TRYING. The man had not faltered once, and his faraway look told Anakin that Obi Wan's mind wasn't even all that focused on their fight.
The man was barely paying attention, and still managing to block every thrust, find every opening, and give no ground whatsoever.
Anger washed over the boy once more, as it had several times during the match. He knew that Kenobi was considered equal to Mace Windu and inferior only to Yoda as a swordsman, but even so, to be unable to rattle the man at all, especially when Obi Wan was so obviously preoccupied, enraged the initiate to the point of outwardly losing control.
Obi Wan, attending to his comlink, sensed none of this. He stepped out of the training circle and deactivated his lightsaber with a quick nod to Anakin. Turning his back on the boy, he thumbed the device on as the beeping subsided. "Kenobi."
The word was not even off his lips when Obi Wan felt a white hot pain sear through the skin on his back. Crying out in pain and surprise, he reacted immediately, throwing himself to the ground and twisting as he activated his lightsaber, just in time to see Anakin deactivate his weapon and run full speed out of the training room.
"Obi Wan!?" Mace Windu had heard the man cry out, and his worried voice spoke through the comlink, which had been dropped in Obi Wan's attempt to defend himself. "What's going on there!?"
Shocked beyond all reason, it took Obi Wan a few moments to gather his wits enough to reach for the device and speak as calmly as possible. He pulled himself into a sitting position and stared towards the door that had provided Anakin's hasty exit. The pain in his back was intense, and he realized at once that the boy must have notched the power on his saber up to well above training level.
"Obi Wan!" Mace's voice reverberated in the empty room, sounding even more irritated than previously.
"Ah," Kenobi calmed himself even as he spoke. "Yes, Master Windu, I'm here now."
"What is going on? Talk to me, Kenobi!" Agitation fairly flowed from the comlink, almost a physical manifestation in the room.
Obi Wan sighed and wished he had time to think before speaking to the stern council member. "Ah," The pain in his back was not subsiding, and his vision swam a bit as he used the Force to dull the fire in his skin. "Just a little mishap in the training room, Master Windu. What can I do for you?"
"......" A long pause from Mace's side of the conversation. A sigh of irritation. "Report to the council chamber at once." And the Master clicked off, his decree given, his dialog ended.
Obi Wan allowed himself a few more moments to sit on the training room floor. He did not know which was worse. The physical pain of the wound that he knew was much more than just a scratch...Or the knowledge that Anakin Skywalker, The Chosen One, beloved of his late Master, the boy Qui Gon had spent his last few seconds of life protecting by extracting an unreasonable, and ultimately unfulfillable, promise from his own Padawan...Had just attacked him in cold blood with a nearly full powered lightsaber.
~~No. I DO know which is worse. No contest.~~
His thoughts a jumble of pain, confusion, and dismay -but noticeably not anger- Obi Wan pulled himself up off the floor. He knew he should report to the healers, but Windu was not a man to keep waiting. Heaving a heavy sigh, Kenobi slowly made his way towards the Council chamber.
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TO BE CONTINUED...