#dyingwords

The Force denies that as its motive. Apparently, he misread the situation. Qui-Gon always thought the past was meant to flash before your eyes in the final moments before death, but apparently, it is the future you leave behind. Maybe for some who worry about missing who their loved ones will turn out to be, it's a positive. A last happy note before becoming one with the Force.

For Qui-Gon, it felt like a slap to the face. Everything he had worked for, everything the Force had led him to, was just going to end in darkness? It couldn't be right. Not with Anakin being the Chosen One. Not with the Jedi at the height of their strength, and the Force the embodiment of light. No. Qui-Gon was always taught that the future is not set in stone. Fates change as frequently as stars die across the galaxy; the future is as unknown as where the next star will be born. This is a future he cannot allow to prosper.

Looking around, he can feel things are already different.

Anakin stands at the foot of his pyre outfitted in youngling robes and a freshly buzzed haircut. His eyes are big and brimmed with tears, but there's a soft smile on his face as Qui-Gon locks eyes with him. The Chosen One has a long way to go, but his progress has already been impressive. Qui-Gon managed to convince the council to send out representatives to Outer Rim to finally investigate the issue of slavery. They've operated under the safe thumb of the Republic for far too long. Jedi are meant to step out of their zones of comfort. When he has completed his youngling training he will likely become Obi-Wan's padawan. Though they haven't yet made their partnership formal, Qui-Gon is pleased to see a faint thread of a bond already forming between the two of them.

They are two beacons of light in the Force, seemingly meant to be intertwined. While the thought of such a pairing is daunting to Qui-Gon with what he saw, he sees the divergence from his vision. Anakin's undertones of anger and insecurity have diminished greatly. Obi-Wan's signature is not laced with pain and tragedy. Whatever he has done here, whether it is a permanent or temporary detour from the future, he has at least done his duty. As a Jedi, it is all he can ask for.

It's time.

Qui-Gon raises his eyes, taking in the room of what feels like half the Jedi Temple. His gaze falls upon Obi-Wan. The new knight stands with his cloak pulled tight around him and shields pulled tighter. Behind him stands the imposing presence of his own master. It's been a few years since he's seen him. His hair has gone completely gray now, and his face has begun to show his age. Dooku still has that unreadable neutrality that used to drive Qui-Gon mad, but he can at least feel their dormant bond buzz slightly with feelings of serenity.

"Padawan," Qui-Gon says, and Obi-Wan approaches with his usual obedience. Now closer, the Jedi Master can see the anxiety behind his eyes and feel the racing of his mind. "The time has come."

"Are you... sure, Master?" The break in his voice is enough for Qui-Gon to question it himself. But the feeling is undeniable. For the first time in his life, the Living Force has fallen silent. He can feel the faint signatures of his fellow Jedi around him, but he has lost the connection to the energy that flows through them all. Instead, he feels the Cosmic Force creeping out of his periphery. It builds-- the same intensity, if not greater, than the Force he has come to know through his life. The last chapter of his life has already closed, and now he must submit to the next one.

"Obi-Wan, I want you to know..." he starts aloud, but shifts to the bond that flows between them-- the last piece of the Living Force he has a grasp of. 'I am so very proud of you. Your strength, your talent in the Force, and your unbreakable will have continued to impress me these last twelve years.'

Obi-Wan stares at him. Silent tears run down his cheek. 'It has been because of your teachings, Master.'

'Some perhaps,' he replies. Obi-Wan smiles. 'but there is so much more that I couldn't have taught you. Qualities that are inherent and cannot be taught. You serve a very important purpose in this galaxy, my padawan. Let the Force guide you to it.'

The exertion makes him lightheaded, and he pulls out of their bond as carefully as he can. Obi-Wan's face falls as Qui-Gon takes care to lock up his side. Bleeding bonds are a painful experience, and though there is no way this will be comfortable with his former padawan, he can try and make it a little easier. He looks back to Anakin now and reaches out his hand.

"Come, Anakin."

The boy walks to him with half the confidence he displayed when he ran into them on Tatooine. He stands on the other side of the pyre, staring at him with uncertainty.

"Do you have to go?"

"Yes, Ani, I do."

"But you're fine now. Your injury--"

"My injury has healed, yes, but my spirit hasn't." Anakin chews on his lip. Qui-Gon does wish he had more time to explain but he will trust Obi-Wan to do that for now. "One day you will understand, young one. But for now, just know the Force has decided it is my time, and I am a servant of the Force. I am leaving because it is my fate."

"Fate," Anakin mutters, wiping away a tear with his sleeve.

"I will always be with you, Ani. In the Force."

The boy jumps forward suddenly, wrapping his small arms around his neck. He hugs the boy back, all the words he just said suddenly feeling as though he lied through his teeth. The realization is striking, and he looks to Obi-Wan who is staring at him with solemnity.

I don't want to go.

But the moment he realizes this is the moment the Force decides his time has officially run out. Qui-Gon gasps slightly, and time feels as though it is slowing.

Anakin is pulled away from him, carried off with tears dripping off his chin by one of the council members. At some point, he was laid down, softly and carefully, and peering over him is Obi-Wan who takes care to brush all the loose hairs out of his face and smooth it down. Mace Windu stands on the other side, his eyes shut and hand resting supportively on Qui-Gon's wrist. Even Dooku has taken a place beside his grand-padawan, an arm on his shoulder, which is a comfort he doesn't often extend.

Though he isn't ready, and the room feels like the air has been sucked out of it, Qui-Gon does appreciate that this will be his final moment. Surrounded by everyone he loves and cherishes. Soon, he will join all the others he loves who can't be here in life, but are waiting for him in death.

He can feel his Life Force waning into nothing. In his final moments, he looks at his padawan who is desperately holding back his mourning.

"Here and now," he says, a mantra he so often repeated. And upon the last bit of his Life Force leaving, he is overtaken by the Cosmic, and the room full of people around him fades into a bright white.

The strange part about dying is that somehow everything he learned about it was right and completely wrong.

The transition from life to the afterlife was quick, yes, but painless would not be the word he would use to describe it. With the Living Force vacuumed out, his bonds are suffocated and torn from his consciousness. If he had a body and the ability to cry out he would-- yet the face he can feel such agony without a body is a mystery on its own. One by one, he feels his connection to that room of people sever. One by one, he is reminded that he is dead. Truly dead. Not in some sort of twilight, not a dream.

Yes, maybe they were right that death is not the end, it is the return to the Force, but right now he feels like an unwelcome guest. He is simultaneously drifting through nowhere and somehow everywhere in the galaxy. He has no sight, but he can feel and therefore he can see in the strange way that the Force allows him a different kind of insight.

When the last connection is torn, he truly feels as though he has been untethered and dropped into the middle of an ocean. He is trying to float, trying to keep his head up, but the forces that surround him are pushing him down. Qui-Gon grabs aimlessly until he feels a familiarity. A rope he's pulled before. So he does.

The future flashes before him again. If his previous pain wasn't enough, this is an entirely different one. The same agony. The same pit of despair. Light battles against light, except one side is horrifically tainted by an insidious dark hold. He feels the cold of darkness, the loneliness of involuntary solitude, and when he drops that link to the future as though it's burning him, he yells out into the void in despair.

"No! I was meant to prevent all of this! I lived so I could stop the darkness."

Qui-Gon has little experience with the Cosmic Force, so it surprises him when it replies.

The nature of fate is not yours to change.

"But the future... the future is not linear. It is not set in stone. Every choice... every action can change--"

You have changed the destinies of your loved ones, but their fates are solidified.

He's stupefied, his horror causing crazed desperation within him, and he flails away as though his spirit has any authority here. "I must go back! I must tell them what I know, prevent darkness from--"

You cannot return to that world. You cannot stop the darkness. This is the fate of the galaxy.

"Why?" He yells bitterly. "I-I- made sure Obi-Wan was prepared. I set Anakin on a better path, with more support."

There was a time when the Force would surround him and feel like a warm hug. It was his constant companion, his best friend. But now it wraps around him and he just feels like he is trapped. This is his end? His thanks for years of service to the Force? None of it ever mattered?

Anakin frowned, fingers curling into a fist. More men lost. And it wasn’t fair, why did Ahsoka have to suffer through this as well? She had started hanging out with Klick and his buddies just last week.  

Ahsoka looked away, burrowing her chin lower. “Have you ever… thought about it?” she asked hesitantly. “What you want your last words to be?”

Anakin’s throat constricted and his heart went out to the slight Togruta. “Not exactly,” he said carefully. He took a deep breath and set aside the wrench, concerned by the question. “Have… you?” She was such a resilient, capable padawan, it was easy to forget just how young she really was.

“Of course not,” Ahsoka said quickly, “I was just—”

“Ahsoka,” Anakin interrupted. “It’s ok to think about that. We’re fighting a war.”  

Her fidgeting stilled. Several long breaths passed before Anakin spoke again. “I think it would depend on who I was with,” he said thoughtfully. He was very careful not to think about Padme now—he knew what he would want his last words to her to be-- but Rex, Obi-wan, Ahsoka herself… “I think the manner of my death would be its own statement.”

Ahsoka huffed a laugh. “Right. Dying dramatically is the perfect eulogy for you.”

“Hey,” Anakin smirked, playfully swatting the air between them. “That’s not what I meant.”

“That’s what it sounded like to me.”

“Fine, yeah” Anakin said. “That’s what it sounded like. But I hope my actions in life will have already said everything anyone needs to know.” He glanced at Ahsoka. “What about you? What do you want yours to be?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” she said softly. “I probably won’t plan anything. Whatever I say, I want it to be real. For whatever is happening at the time.”

Anakin puzzled over that for a minute before he agreed with her. “That fits you, Snips,” he said solemnly. “Just… don’t make me find out anytime soon, alright?”

“I’ll do my best, master,” Ahsoka said.

They sat together until Ahsoka finally fell asleep. She didn’t even stir when Anakin scooped her up in his arms and carried her to her tent. The Jedi Knight looked back at the sleeping padawan once before ducking outside.