Archive: master_apprentice, and my homepage
(http://www.geocities.com/Hollywood/Studio/3603/wolfling.html)
Rating: PG
Warnings: none that I can think of
Spoilers: Yes
Summary: Obi-Wan's thoughts in A New Hope when Luke seeks him
out
Feedback: of all kinds is gratefully accepted :)
Notes: Well the light saber wielding plot bunnies finally
caught me and this is the result. My first Star Wars slash
story. I have a sequel in mind, too. Many thanks to sa and Virg
for the quick betaing.
It is time.
After two decades of hiding, two decades of patient waiting my
chance at redemption has finally arrived.
A chance to make up for my mistakes. A chance to help restore
the balance.
The balance. What, really, do I know of the concept? My life
has not been truly in balance since the day he was
killed.
He. Qui-Gon. My Master.
My soul.
It has been thirty years since he died and I still feel his
loss as if it was yesterday. I've never really adjusted to his
absence; even now I still turn around and expect to find him
there, to see his smile, hear his voice, feel his touch.
I often wonder if he had survived, if things would have turned
out differently. He always saw things more clearly than I did,
often more clearly than even the council. Or maybe "clearly" is
the wrong word. Maybe it simply was he saw things more
optimistically, saw their bright promise and then proceeded to
do all that he could to see that fulfilled.
It was certainly the case with me. He always had faith in me,
even when I didn't have faith in myself. And those times
occurred more often than I like to admit in the early days of
my training. His belief in me allowed me to believe in myself.
I never would have completed my training if it wasn't for him.
He had the same belief in the young Anakin. He saw the boy's
potential where the council saw only danger. And my feelings
were even more conflicted, I'm sad to say, with jealousy
coloring my reactions, jealousy that this boy would usurp my
place at my Master's side. My place in my Master's heart.
Such thoughts were beneath both of us, and I thank the Force
that I came to terms with it before it was too late. I would
have never forgiven myself if it had still been between us when
he died.
As it was the ghost of those feelings continued to haunt my
relationship with young Anakin, never allowing me to interact
with him with the same ease that my Master had. And I have no
doubt that contributed to what happened.
If my Master had lived to take Anakin on as his apprentice, the
boy would've had someone who believed in him fully, who would
have refused to settle for anything less but the fulfillment of
his greatest potential. Anakin may have very well become the
greatest of us all, just as my Master had foreseen for him.
Instead the boy got me, with my ghosts of grief and guilt and
the council who could never quite forget their original
assessment that Anakin was dangerous. Those who should have
been his greatest supporters and teachers all had their doubts
about him and sensitive as Anakin was he had to have sensed
that.
Was it any wonder then that when his world crashed down around
him and he faced his greatest temptation that he fell?
I promised my Master as he lay dying that I would train Anakin,
be his Master as Qui-Gon had been mine. That I did not live up
to the responsibilities of that promise remains my greatest
failure... and my greatest shame. The worst day of my life was
the day my Master died. The second worst was the day I had to
cross light sabers with my apprentice, though he followed
another path and was my apprentice no longer.
I couldn't save him and so it was my duty as his Master to end
his threat. And I failed at even that.
The days following that battle were the lowest of my life. I
was filled with despair as I watched what my failures had let
come to pass. The government toppled and changed, others of my
kind hunted down and killed, our very way of life being wiped
out.
I could not bear to see that happen, but there was nothing I
could do to stop it. So I did the only thing I could to
maintain what sanity I had left. I withdrew into myself and
waited to die.
And I am sure that is exactly what I would have done if not
for...
What do I call it? A visitation? An intervention? A miracle? I
do not know what would be the best term for it was all of those
things.
As I sat in my small shabby rented room, with my legs crossed
and my eyes closed patiently waiting for death to claim me I
heard a voice I had never dared hoped to hear again.
"Obi-Wan."
I remember the sheer disbelief I felt, along with the despair,
knowing that when I opened my eyes I would discover I had not
heard what I thought I had heard.
I opened my eyes.
There, standing before me smiling, was my Master.
For a long moment all I could do was stare, unable to speak,
unable to move. I was afraid if I did either he would
disappear. So I just sat there. And stared.
Qui-Gon's smile widened as he watched me watching him. "You
look like you've seen a ghost, my friend."
I licked dry lips. "M-Master?" I asked, my hand reaching out
towards him without conscious thought.
Only to have it caught in my Master's, his grip strong and
warm.
Real.
I closed my eyes again for a moment, savoring his touch as my
hand clutched convulsively at his. I wanted to move forward and
embrace him but I couldn't force myself to move.
And then I didn't have to as he was the one who moved, stepping
closer and pulling me up into a strong embrace.
That felt real too.
It was more than my overtaxed emotions could handle and I felt
myself trembling, on the verge of breaking down and weeping
hysterically. I clutched at my Master's robes in a white
knuckled grip and buried my face in his shoulder as I struggled
to regain some semblance of control.
Qui-Gon just held me and waited with the patience he had always
shown me. That, more than anything else, helped me calm down,
find my center. I took a deep breath and raised my head,
meeting his eyes for the first time in almost ten years.
His gaze was warm and full of affection, holding nothing of the
reproach or disappointment I had feared.
Which contrarily made my guilt all the stronger.
"I'm sorry Master," I whispered lowering my eyes as I spoke. "I
failed you."
I heard him sigh and then one hand was under my chin, gently
forcing me to lift my head and look at him again. "The fault is
not yours alone Obi-Wan. Do not take more blame than is your
due."
I tried to look away at that but the hand on my chin prevented
me. "I was his teacher. It was my responsibility, he was
my responsibility."
"Did the two of you exist in a vacuum then? There were no other
influences in his life?" The blue eyes staring into mine seemed
to be looking into the deepest reaches of my soul.
"No, of course not," I answered. "But I-"
My Master continued implacable. "And did you try to warn
Anakin? Show him the consequences of his choices right and
wrong?"
"There is no try," I responded, Yoda's teachings automatically
coming to my lips. And wasn't that the problem? I had "tried",
I hadn't "done".
There was a moment of silence then Qui-Gon said, "Yoda's words
aside, there are sometimes you can do all that you can and yet
still fail."
I thought about that, but much as I wanted the absolution such
a belief would give me I couldn't accept it.
Qui-Gon saw that in my expression and sighed. "You always were
stubborn," he told me with fond exasperation. Then, in a
quieter voice, "If you feel you need my forgiveness Obi-Wan,
you have it."
That single soft-voiced comment was enough to open the
floodgates on my emotions and I started trembling again.
Qui-Gon pulled me back into his embrace and I again buried my
face in his shoulder, knowing there was no way I'd be able to
rebuild my shattered control this time.
I have no idea how long I stood there cradled in my Master's
arms as I poured out the horror and guilt and grief that I had
been carrying with me for what seemed like forever. Qui-Gon
said nothing, just held me. It was more than enough to comfort
me -- it was something I had thought I'd never feel again.
When the emotional storm finally ended I didn't feel anything
but empty. And maybe a bit relieved. Succeed or fail, I was
done with it all. This life was at an end. My Master's presence
proved that.
Didn't it?
But the look in Qui-Gon's eyes belied that belief.
"No!" I cried in denial. "I can't -- you can't ask me to!" I
didn't know whether to push him away for even thinking of
asking or pull him closer so he couldn't disappear, so I just
stood where I was, in the loose circle of his arms.
Though his expression was sympathetic Qui-Gon's answer was
implacable. "You can, Obi-Wan, and you must."
"I can't!" I denied, hearing my voice crack. "I've done
all that I can, taken all that I've can. I have no strength
left. Any more will destroy me!"
"Amidala is pregnant."
The words were like a splash of cold water or a slap to the
face.
"Does he know?" I asked quietly.
"Not yet. But he may find out. Amidala will need protection. As
will the children."
"Children?"
Qui-Gon nodded. "She is carrying twins."
In my mind I pictured young Anakin as he was before the Dark
Side twisted him and then I pictured him as he was the last
time I saw him. I pictured two innocent defenseless lives and
what would happen to them if they were discovered. I could not
stop the shiver.
My Master laid his hand on my shoulder. "They will need
protection," he repeated. "And they will also need a teacher,
when it is time."
No. Not again. Not after what I allowed to happen to Anakin. "I
can't," I moaned, shaking my head in denial. How could he that
of me?
A hand brushed my cheek gently. "I said the same thing once,"
he said quietly. "You taught me how wrong I was."
Xanatos. My Master's first apprentice who had turned to the
Dark Side. Of course Qui-Gon knew what he was asking of me,
knew better than anyone.
"Just because you lose one does not mean you will lose them
all, Obi-Wan. The only way that will happen is if you refuse
the attempt."
I knew my Master was right and mutely nodded my acceptance. I
could feel my shoulders slumping as the weight of this
responsibility settled heavily on me.
"How long?" I asked. How long would I have to wait? How long
would I have to carry these burdens? How long before I saw him
again.
Qui-Gon merely shook his head. "That I do not know. Time is...
is different for me now," he said uncustomarily fumbling.
I nodded, then looked away. "A long time I think," I said
softly.
"Yes." His answer was just as soft.
I felt myself tensing as I somehow sensed that our time
together was coming to an end. My Master sensed it also and
pulled me as close to him as he could, holding onto me so hard
I knew there would be bruises.
I didn't care, I was too busy holding onto him just as tightly.
Then Qui-Gon pulled back slightly, just enough to be able to
bring our mouths together.
The kiss was tender, passionate, wild and desperate; I poured
all of my feelings for my Master into it and I could sense him
doing the same. Things that we couldn't find the words for,
things for which words were inadequate, all were shared and
understood in that kiss.
We finally parted, both of us panting for breath and staring at
each other... And then he started to fade.
"I miss you," I said. 'I love you,' I thought.
He smiled, though his eyes were sad and reached out to touch my
cheek one more time with fingers quickly growing insubstantial.
"I will be waiting for you Obi-Wan," he promised seriously. "I
am waiting for you."
"I know," I whispered and then he was gone.
I sat in that little room for another day, gathering my
strength for what was to come. Then I went out and did what I
had to do.
This time I would not fail in what my Master asked of me.
The years since that day have not been easy but the children
have been protected and have grown strong. I have kept an eye
on them from afar and bided my time, knowing that the Force
will lead them to me when they are ready to be taught.
Patience, never one of my strong suits, has been learned and
mastered.
And when the time weighs heavily on my hands I pull out the
memory of that visit with my Master and his promise. Knowing
that he is waiting for me make my own waiting easier to bear.
But now, finally, the waiting is over. Anakin's and Amidala's
son has come to me with two droids, two very familiar droids.
If that was not sign enough he called me by name. Obi-Wan.
I have been simply "Old Ben" for so many years my real name
sounds... I don't know. Not wrong because that is who I am and
who I will always be. But it is strange to hear it again.
I take the boy back to my home and watch as he fixes the droid
that was damaged. The droid that, though there is no way he
could possibly know it, his father had built.
I blink and for a second it is his father standing
there, tinkering away as he used to love to do. The image is so
strong I have to close my eyes.
In my self-imposed darkness I feel a ghostly hand clasp my
shoulder reassuringly. Suddenly I am calm.
This is it. The time has come.
"You know Luke, you're about the same age your father was when
he fought in the clone wars."
"No, my father never fought in the clone wars, he was a
navigator on a space freighter." It has begun.
Archive 