He was standing on his usual spot near his hut, that he now called his home. The twin suns of Tatooine had almost vanished from the horizon, the only light came from the countless stars on the night sky. But there would not have been much to see anyway, just sand and dunes, everywhere you looked. It didn’t seem to bother the lone figure whatsoever. In fact, Qui-Gon believed that his former Padawan was not really here, perhaps physically, but certainly not in mind. The dead Jedi Master wondered, what was the ginger haired male thinking about? Was he thinking about the fallen Jedi Order again, perhaps about his dead comrades, the clones’ betrayal or was he thinking about Anakin or Luke?
Whatever he was thinking about, it definitely had to do with the Skywalkers, that much was clear to the deceased Jedi. Qui-Gon sighed, not that Obi-Wan would notice, not in this state. He was still learning how to converse with his former Master. There MIGHT be a time in the future, when he would be fully aware of Qui-Gon again, but the time was still relatively far away. But what was time to a dead man? The long haired Jedi was sure that he wouldn’t care as much as he did, were it not for Obi-Wan.
“I’m sorry Padawan, if I could change things…” he trailed off. Obi-Wan would not hear him and if he could, then he would not WANT to hear his apology.
In the ginger haired man’s eyes, he himself was the one to blame. Little did he know that it had been Qui-Gon’s fault from the very beginning of their partnership. The deceased Master had realized that. His cold teaching and his denial of their bond, as well as his rejection of Obi-Wan again and again, had made the young man act like he did. He too had done much wrong in Anakin’s apprenticeship, but only because he had been so young and he had only Qui-Gon’s teaching as example. In the end, the blame rested on Qui-Gon’s shoulders.
The Force ghost sent a last glance at his former student. He could see his pain clearly and he felt it in the Force, as if it were his own. It says that time would heal every wound, but Qui-Gon was not so sure about this one. He himself had never really healed after Xanatos had fallen. The proof stood before him, with tense shoulders and glassy grey eyes.
The long haired ghost turned away and allowed the Force to claim him for now. Perhaps tomorrow would be a better day… at least for his dear Padawan…
Qui-Gon groaned while he awoke. That in itself made the Master freeze. He was dead, he did not sleep, he did not eat, he did not drink. Such mortal needs did not apply to him anymore, at least in theory.
Qui-Gon began to harbor doubts however, because he was absolutely certain that he was lying on something very soft and comfortable. As a Force ghost, he should not have a physical form and he certainly should not be able to touch, let alone rest on something. He was sure that something was definitely wrong here, if that was good or bad, would remain to be seen.
The Jedi Master took a deep breath, which should not have been necessary, and he opened his eyes, only to shut them again when he was greeted by a VERY bright and VERY familiar light. Why in the name of the Force was he in the halls of healing? It did not make any sense to him.
“So you are finally awake,” Qui-Gon knew that voice all too well.
“Tahl?” Tahl was dead, she had greeted him after his death, followed by the worst scolding of his whole life, or rather, his afterlife.
“Yes you big dummy,” it was meant to be teasing, but he could hear the worry in her voice.
“What happened?” he carefully peeked between half opened eye lids.
“You collapsed,” another voice spoke up, before Tahl could answer. Midnight blue eyes darted towards the door, in which Mace Windu and Yoda stood.
“Excuse me?” he was confused and were it not for the reassurance from the Force, he would have freaked out by now.
“You collapsed in the middle of an argument with the Council,” Tahl explained, while the two Council members entered.
“I did… was I winning?” he grinned dumbly and his two friends could only shake their heads in amusement. Yoda simply huffed and hopped onto one of the empty chairs that stood next to Qui-Gon’s bed.
“Winning you was not, finished with you, I was not,” said the Order’s Grandmaster.
“A pity,” he let his head fall back into the pillow. Could it really be possible? Was this really a second chance? The Force made no move to deny his thoughts.
“What can you remember?” the Korun Master stood at the foot of the long haired Master’s bed.
He thought for a moment and decided that ‘the destruction of the Jedi Order and his Padawan’s grief and self-blame’ might not be an answer that would be well received. He settled for something else instead, “Nothing if I am being honest.”
The three visitors shared concerned glances. “Discussing your return to the temple we were.”
“We asked you to take on another Padawan learner,” added the dark skinned male.
“Ah,” so it was THAT time. Well, he could work with that. “And what did I say?”
Mace shared a quick glance with Yoda. “For one, you were insulting the Council and second, you said that you did not want to take on another Padawan and therefore it made no sense for you to watch the Initiate tournament.”
“I see… well,” he cleared his throat and avoided everyone’s eyes, “it can’t hurt to take a look, right?”
“Honestly Qui-Gon,” the female’s voice sounded annoyed, “I have never met someone so stubborn and thick headed and… wait, what did you say?”
“I will visit the tournament, if it will keep you from bothering me that is,” he had quickly added the last part. Of course he was going to watch the Initiate fights, his future Padawan was among them after all, at least if he was correct.
A moment of silence passed, then, “I am going to call a healer, there is something clearly wrong with him.”
The female with the unusual eyes had halfway risen from her chair, but Mace stopped her. He whispered something into her ear that sounded suspiciously like, “Let him, if this somehow influenced his mind, then we have to take advantage of it… as long as its lasts.”
Qui-Gon pretended not to have heard any of it. Instead, he chose to change the subject.
Qui-Gon was actually enjoying himself. He had been on time to the tournament and watched the youngest of the Order spar and compete against each other. Now that he was not surrounded by the darkness of his own heart, he was actually able to feel the joy, the healthy rivalry and the eagerness in the young ones. The Force felt alive and he as a Master of the Living Force, he strived in it.
He was even able to ignore the incredulous stares he was receiving from his two best friends and from other fellow Jedi, who were relatively close to him. He silently grinned to himself. Would they know what he had seen and gone through, then they would understand. Or perhaps not.
Finally, after the whole morning and most of midday was over, came the fight Qui-Gon had actually came for. He made sure not to fidget in his seat, but he did lean forward, elbows resting on his knees and chin resting on one of his hands. His Padawan looked just as he remembered him, unsure, yet still full of hope. But what really hit the long haired man, was how bright the boy really was and Qui-Gon began to wonder. Had his Padawan always been so bright and if so, what had happened? Perhaps his constant rejection and the doubt the boy had began to harbor during their twelve years together, had dampened his bright presence in the Force. A wave of guilt crashed over him, but he quickly pushed it deep into the Force. He waved away the concerned eyes of his two friend’s and turned to look back at his Padawan, who would soon fight against his greatest rival, a white haired boy names Bruck Chun.
The fight began and Qui-Gon’s midnight blue eyes followed every move his Padawan made. Everything they observed, was analyzed and cataloged. Mistakes were spotted and plans to correct them were already crafted. It was in this moment, that Qui-Gon realized that he had never done so previously. He had seen the mistakes and he had made Obi-Wan repeat the exercise until he got it right. Hours without a break had been spent in the training halls and immediately, his deep rooted guilt arose anew, but this time, he did not push it aside. Instead, he kept most of his attention on the ongoing fight. He was actually able to catch the moment, in which his Padawan’s graceful fighting style had changed into an almost mindless brawl. The long haired Jedi Master scowled. He may not have heard what Bruck Chun had said to his Padawan, but he could think of enough things that would have broken Obi-Wan’s concentration and had brought forth his temper. That was one thing they had to work on, but not solemnly with a lot of meditation, but with understanding. He now knew that the problem was deeply rooted and that the anger came from fear and pain. They could work on that, he knew they could.
The fight finally ended and at least to Qui-Gon, it was no surprise that the ginger haired male had won. Obi-Wan was the better fighter and the better human, there was no doubt about it. He let himself draw back against the seat, his midnight blue eyes resting on the two boys that were now leaving the training hall. He did not even notice the strange and curious looks Mace and Tahl were sending his way.
A hum escaped the long haired Jedi and without another word, he stood up and left, intending to get to Obi-Wan. It was about time that he acted, he had already waited long enough.
Qui-Gon eventually found himself waiting right outside the public showers, where the two boys were cleaning themselves. He was fidgeting just a little bit from impatience, but who could blame him? After all, he was finally able to make everything right again. He was finally able to give Obi-Wan the apprenticeship that he deserved.
The door to the shower area opened and the person that stepped outside, brought a cloud of steam with him.
Qui-Gon eagerly pushed himself away from the wall he had been lazily slumping against – he may be a Jedi Master, trained to always look strong and serene, but he was also a rebel – but he stopped dead in his tracks as he found himself facing white locks instead of copper ones.
“Master Jinn,” the smile on the boy’s face was too much and too plastic.
“Initiate Chun,” Qui-Gon returned the greeting calmly.
“I trust that you have watched the sparring?” the boy continued, his mind was set, that much was clear.
“And what did you think?” he was probably thinking that he was charming.
“I think,” Qui-Gon began hesitantly. This was the boy, who had repeatedly hurt HIS Padawan and would undoubtedly continue to do so, if allowed. “You will NEVER be a Padawan, if you cannot conquer that anger and arrogance of yours.”
The boy blinked, definitely taken aback by the harsh words. His surprise quickly faded into the previously mentioned anger. “How would you know?” he challenged.
Qui-Gon leaned close, VERY close and in a calm and collected voice, he threatened, “I will make sure of it.”
When Obi-Wan exited the public showers, he was surprised to see Bruck Chun still there, but he was even more surprised to see the white haired Initiate talking with Master Jinn. Though ‘talking’ might be the wrong term for this situation. Master Jinn had leaned down closely and was speaking in a low voice and even though Obi-Wan could not hear what was being said, he could very well see the reaction.
Bruck paled and where there had been anger hidden in his eyes, was now fear. The long haired Jedi Master stood straight again, his mouth was set in a firm line and his blue eyes were colder than Illum in winter season.
Bruck chose this moment to make a run for it, leaving Obi-Wan with the clearly angry Jedi Master behind, as angry as Jedi Masters could get. The ginger haired boy almost deemed it better to take a leave as well, but before he could move, did the taller and older male turn around, pinning him with a single look. At least his eyes were not as cold and threatening anymore.
“Initiate Kenobi,” Qui-Gon greeted.
“M…Master Jinn,” Obi-Wan quickly caught himself and bowed in respect.
“I saw your fight today,” continued the Jedi Master, from the look of his face alone, Obi-Wan could not read his mood or his emotions.
“You did?” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “What did you think?”
It was interesting how the same question could sound completely different, when it came out of another mouth, mused Qui-Gon. “I thought that you fought very well for someone your age… though that changed, when you were provoked.” He raised an eyebrow, daring the Initiate to challenge him.
Obi-Wan’s shoulders slumped and he looked at the ground in shame. “Yes Master… I know.”
“You need to control your anger, don’t let anyone provoke you like this.” Obi-Wan nodded. “But I should probably not complain too much. After all I want a student, not someone, who is already perfect.”
“Master?” blue-green eyes looked up at him in silent confusion; there was the tiniest spark of hope hidden in them.
Qui-Gon allowed himself to smile, while he slowly sunk to his knees, with a pair of wide blue-green eyes following his every move. “Obi-Wan Kenobi, would you do me the honor of becoming my Padawan?”
For a moment, the long haired male feared that the boy’s eyes would fall out of his skull, so wide and round were they. Also, Obi-Wan opened and closed his mouth like a fish, trying to find the words he wanted to say. The Jedi Master took it with humor.
“This is not a hard question, either yes or no,” he teased and it appeared to get through the baffled boy.
“Yes,” he breathed out, “Yes!” this was louder and before the older male could as much as blink, had the former Initiate literally thrown himself into Qui-Gon’s chest, clinging on with everything that he got.
The bearded male smiled down at his charge and slowly wrapped his arms tightly around him. His chin came to rest on ginger locks and he also allowed himself to close his eyes and bath in the pure and untainted joy that ran through the Force. It was making him feel dizzy and he had to be careful not to get lost. But there was so much joy and that all from such a young boy, it was astonishing.
“M…master,” Qui-Gon adored how his Padawan said ‘mostah’ instead of ‘master’, due to his accent. It were the little things that made him love his boy even more.
“My Padawan,” retorted the older male.
Obi-Wan pulled back, “I promise you will not regret it, I’ll be the perfect Padawan and,” he was stopped, when two hands framed his face.
The Master silently marveled at how small Obi-Wan still was. “Easy there. I know you will make me proud and that I won’t ever regret my decision,” he began calmly. “And I don’t want the perfect little Padawan, I want you, with all your quirks and talents and even with all your faults and mistakes.” He gently wiped away a single happy tear that had escaped ever changing eyes. This was Obi-Wan’s biggest dream and this time around, his dream had not been painfully squashed by him, this time there would be no Bandomeer and certainly no Melida/Daan.
“Thank you,” it was barely above a whisper, but Qui-Gon understood it and the hidden meaning nevertheless. Without a second thought, did he pull his Padawan into a tight hug again and he stood up, while still holding him in his arms. It was in this moment that the Jedi Master made a silent vow to himself.
“I will not make the same mistakes again. This time, Obi-Wan will be happy…”
Meanwhile, the unlikely pair was being observed by a honey skinned woman and a Korun Master. Tahl and Mace exchanged glances. This was not the Qui-Gon Jinn they knew, this was a changed man. And either it had something to do with his collapse, or something else was going on. One thing was for certain however, they would keep a close eye on the long haired man and his future Padawan, though they had to admit, that the Force had never felt happier before, than in this moment.
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