Master Apprentice
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Category: A/U, Romance, Angst
Rating: R (for adult themes)
Spoilers: For all movies, including TPM, and the JA books.
Archive: Nowhere right now, thanks. :-)
Disclaimer: Lucas owns 'em, we don't. Damn.
EXILES SERIES: In an alternate universe set fifteen years after the events in The Phantom Menace, two Jedi live in hiding on the desert planet of Tatooine, awaiting a child's destiny. Will they survive to see a new hope come to fruition?
JOURNALS -- BOOK THREE: The Journal of Obi-Wan Kenobi (follows Book One)
Standard Date: 19787-1874198
The Temple At Coruscant
Home at last. If I weren't so weary from my misadventure on Alderaan, I think I'd have done a very un-Jedi like dance upon arrival here. Instead, I merely disembarked as usual and was immediately greeted by Anakin, who came flying up the ramp and into my arms where we embraced joyously.
His was a welcome weight and I felt all the heaviness lift from my heart when we drew apart, both of us hoping sincerely we'd not be parted again for a long time to come.
With Qui-Gon in tow, we made our way back to our quarters where Anakin quickly turned into the perfect little Jedi padawan, serenely preparing our meal and telling us about his adventures during our absence.
Breathlessly, he told us about all the things he's learned and how much more there is for him to discover and how wonderful it was going to be now that we were here. For half a moment, I almost expected Qui-Gon to rebuke him a bit for being so lively, but my old master has become softer after ten years and three padawans, and instead of quelling Anakin's enthusiasm, he encouraged it with a smile.
We had a very pleasant meal and went to bed early, as I think all of us are exhausted in different ways from the last assignment.
I must say, the Coruscant skyline never looked more beautiful then it does from the window of my and Qui-Gon's quarters.
His arm is wrapped tightly around my waist and he's dozing behind me, even as I record this, his warm breaths tickle my neck and make me shiver with a yearning to indulge in an activity that bears little resemblence to either sleeping or journal keeping.
Maybe he'll feel the same way. Once I wake him.
Standard Date: 1987107-139749187
The Temple At Coruscant
Jedi on restricted duty have few choices as to the work they can do and Master K'widk was in a bit of a dither as he tried to figure out what I good for. Most of the Knights who come to him for assignments are either old or disabled, and I'm, for the most part, neither.
He asked me with much embarrassment if I'd care to tend to the Temple gardens, and was very surprised when I readily accepted.
Frankly, I could think of no assignment that would please me more right now. The Temple gardens are huge and beautiful and full of the Living Force. The work is simple and I'm able to contemplate to my heart's content which is something I've not done nearly enough of in the past few months.
My partner in this work is an ancient knight who goes by the name of D'deral. He's bent half with age and is not one for friendly conversation, as I quickly discovered. Told me quite bluntly that after one hundred and twelve years of existence, he doesn't have much left to say, so I shouldn't bother him with pointless prattle.
I immediately took the hint and began to work in silence, pulling weeds and using Force to encourage the flowering plants to grow. My saber has been traded for a pair of shears, and it's very pleasant to pass the time snipping dead branches and leaves away while uncovering the vibrant life beneath.
The work continued from sunrise to noon, and after a short break, went on until supper time in complete silence.
I took time to meditate while I worked and felt the Darkness of the past few months giving way to Light. I realized that trials are meant to be exactly what they are, trials, and I've survived them, not only intact, but rewarded with a bond to two souls I'm privileged to love -- my lifemate and my padawan, both of whom I might not have known, if not for the suffering endured.
I've decided to spend the rest of the week contemplating gratitude, forgoing the drain of self-pity for a more positive outlook.
And now, my muscles ache, but in a good way, especially when I see Qui-Gon arrive in our private quarters, massage oil in hand and a wide smile on his face. He told me earlier that he noticed the Temple had a new gardener, and he found him irresistible at first sight.
He hoped I wouldn't mind, but he intended on ravishing this gardener, probably this evening. There would most likely be roughness and joyful depravity of all sorts, he intoned somberly, as this young man brought out in him a lust for life he hadn't known possible.
With a smile, I agreed this would be a splendid idea and welcomed into my arms, where he made good on his promises, and with any luck, after I put the recorder down, he might resume his ravishment, and the new Temple gardener might continue to thank the Force for his good, wonderful, unimaginable fortune.
Standard Date 19877828-91724
The Temple At Coruscant
Anakin received a package this morning, a small wooden chest covered with delicate blue synthsilk and emblazoned with the royal crest of Naboo. He was so excited he could barely finish his breakfast, but, cruel masters Qui-Gon and I are, we made him finish his meal before opening it, as a lesson in patience.
He bore this small trial with good humor, and showed a great deal of care while opening the package, as if he planned on saving and treasuring every scrap. When the gift was finally uncovered, out came two items; a holopic of her Highness, Amidala of Naboo, in slightly more casual clothes than her usual opulent attire and a miniature silver box, containing a large, blood-red ruyat.
The ruyat surprised both Qui-Gon and myself, as the stone is extremely rare and can be used as an energy crystal for most lightsabers. It's a large one, and I can't help but ponder its value, which, on most worlds, would be the easy equivalent of a king's ransom.
Needless to say, Anakin was thrilled beyond measure, much more with the picture than with the priceless stone, which amused Qui-Gon immensely.
"Value surely is in the eye of the beholder," he said with a smile, ruffling the boy's hair.
But Anakin was still staring at the picture, most likely not hearing a word. "She's ... she's ... more beautiful than ... than ... a Keriatin fighter ship!"
Qui-Gon and I couldn't help the laughter that followed, and Anakin blushed a bright red. He scowled and bit his lip, but his eyes eventually brightened and he laughed as well. "Well, maybe not *that* beautiful," he joked. "But close."
A little while later, Qui-Gon somberly informed Anakin that he would soon be assigned to construct his own lightsaber, the most important trial of a first level padawan. He explained the difficulties and the importance of choosing the correct focus stone, for it would be that stone that would join Jedi to saber, allowing them to fight as one.
"Oh, that's easy." Anakin quipped and he immediately reached for the ruyat. He held it up to the light and a crimson shadow splashed over the four walls of our quarters. "This is going to be my stone, as Padme will be my ..." He stopped and blushed again.
"Are you sure?" Qui-Gon's voice was very serious and I understood why. A red stone will create a red blade, a highly unusual color for a saber.
At least one that a Jedi might use.
But Anakin was adamant. "Oh, yes. I can *feel* it Master Qui- Gon." He nodded firmly. "This is my focus stone." He beamed at us and gathered up his datapad before pulling on his cloak. "I can't wait to make my saber, it's going to be just *wizard!*" he yelled, before running out the door, to his morning classes.
Qui-Gon sighed as the door closed behind the boy. "So much to learn. All of us."
I nodded. "Yes. I think you're right, beloved."
He sighed before pulling me into a long, tight embrace. I listened to his heartbeat, repeated the Litany of Gratitude and pulled away, but not before kissing him, once, over his heart, and again, over the wound that nearly took him away from me.
His eyes were bright when he looked down at me, and I could almost hear his thoughts, so many of them, so filled with love and a gratitude uniquely his own.
I love you, I whispered in my heart, and he replied in kind, the silence between us more eloquent than any sounds.
A silence so much more beautiful than any words.
Standard Date: 17871978-1747187
The Temple at Coruscant
Another day of gardening, this one a bit lonelier than the last few. I found my fellow gardener, Knight D'deral, sitting wearily on a stone bench, a bunch of weeds clutched tightly in his trembling hand. I sat beside him in silence, mindful of his dislike of conversation, but tried to let him know that I was worried about him nonetheless.
Upon closer inspection I could see that he'd been weeping, which tore at my heart. I took a chance and quietly asked him if I could help him and he shook his head and continued to stare sadly at the weeds, which by now, were wilted and brown with death.
So, I said no more, but sat beside him, trying to give him what comfort I could via the Force. Finally, I heard a ragged sigh and he looked up at me, his face deeply lined with exhaustion and sadness.
"Tell me young one, why do we pull these?" He opened his hand and showed me the weeds.
I thought for a moment before replying. "To maintain a balance, I'd suppose. If we didn't control them, they would take over and the garden would be less aesthetically balanced, less pleasing to the eye."
"So, we take one life to maintain a balance we find pleasing, no?" He turned away and stared out over the gardens. "Because we don't think these particular plants as useful, or as pretty, as certain others. So, tell me young one, what would happen if one day people were treated like these plants, and thus killed for no longer fitting into the proper order? For no longer being as useful, or as desirable, as another creature might be. What happens then?"
"Plants are not people," I replied gently. "Order cannot be forced by one power upon sentient creatures. They would rebel against any attempts and no one being could be so powerful as to subjugate a galaxy beneath its singular fancy."
I hesitated. "Besides, if one tried, that's why the Jedi are here. We would never allow that to happen, even if an attempt was made, it would not succeed."
"Do you think so? That's how it is now, young one, but what if ... what if ... " He stopped and a single tear rolled down his haggard cheek. "Oh, I hope what I dreamt last night doesn't come true. To think I've lived this long, only to be useless now." He rose shakily, tottered back toward the Temple and was gone before I could assist him.
Disturbed, I called the healers and asked that one might check in on him later in the day, after he had calmed down. I know I shouldn't worry, he *is* a very, very old man, no doubt prone to tempers and exhaustion of the mind as well as the body, and there's a good chance he won't even remember what happened in the gardens today.
At least I can hope he might not.
Standard Date 18728749-197834
The Temple at Coruscant
Received sad news this morning. My fellow gardener, Knight D'deral, passed into the Force during the night.
By all accounts it was as peaceful a passing as one could wish for and tonight he will be honored with a full pyre, in respect for his lifetime worth of service to the Order. According to the healers, he left a short note for me, which I'll admit gave me chills when I read it.
"I dreamt the Jedi were weeds."
I stared at this note for a long time, and finally, carefully, placed it into my keepsake drawer. I don't know what it means, or if it means anything at all, but I will hold onto it, just in case.
I'd hate to attribute deep meaning to what could possibly be the last ramblings of an extremely elderly man -- sometimes a sunrise is just a sunrise -- but, again, I'm not sure.
If it does mean anything, it will reveal itself in its own time.
In the meantime, Qui-Gon has informed me that Anakin as completed his saber in the record setting time of four days. Four days! An adept ... a master Jedi ... would not be able to perform a similar feat in two weeks let alone four days. Most sabers take a month or more to construct, especially by novices, and I can see the pride shining from Qui-Gon's eyes as he examines the completed saber.
It appears that his Anakin, his Chosen One, is moving beyond even our vast expectations.
It's interesting to note that Anakin sees nothing very special in all this. He just likes to build things, he protests whenever anyone expresses astonishment at his accomplishment. He even muttered to me that completing the podracer was a good bit more difficult, and building his mother's protocol droid even harder than that.
I had to gently explain to him that while a lightsaber's design was deceptively simple, it was absolute in its precision, and one cannot be built without the use of Force. There was only one way to turn the focus stones to their proper setting, and that's what usually takes the longest.
There is no way to teach that skill, I tried to impress on him. He had done it alone, and proved beyond a doubt that he had the inner skills necessary to channel the greatest power of all ... the power of the Living Force.
Of course, being the youngster he is, he merely shrugged in reply. "At least I can start to train in earnest now." He lit the blade, and again, crimson fire covered our walls. "And probably cook dinner too."
With a sigh, I began to explain the sacredness of the blade and its acceptable uses, but Qui-Gon interrupted before I could properly catch Anakin's attention.
"First forms begin tomorrow, padawan," he said with obvious pleasure. "Obi-Wan will show you the stances, then, when we feel you have those down, sparring will commence."
Anakin fairly glowed. "Wizard!" he exclaimed and bounded off to his quarters, his new lightsaber strapped securely to his belt.
I raised an eyebrow at my bondmate. "I think first on my list of lessons will be curing our padawan of that particular expression. What do you think?"
Qui-Gon smiled slyly at me. "Why, I think that's just *wizard!*" he replied brightly, biting his lip to hide his mirth.
I tried not to scowl at him and failed. "You would."
Laughing, he gathered me in his arms and dragged me into our private quarters, where he spent a good deal of time removing my clothing, piece by piece, all the while reducing me to a shivering, babbling mass of nerve endings. And I loved every moment of it.
It was just ... wizard.
Standard Date 1878-174817
The Temple at Coruscant
Anakin's progress continues to astonish the sabermasters and the other students. He's mastered first forms in record time and is well on his way to second year advanced. He's beaten the other students handily, time after time, and I have to caution him not to succumb to the temptation of letting them win out of pity or the desire to make friends, which he is wont to do.
"You've spent your entire life trying to please others, Anakin, " I cautioned him. "It did you no good then and will certainly not help you now. Letting others win helps no one, not them, and not you."
He bit his lip and looked at me sadly. "But, Master, they not only don't want to spar with me anymore, they don't want anything to do with me." He looked down and I had to strain to hear him. "I don't have any friends," he whispered. "Even Ki-ludinis doesn't like me much anymore. He calls me Wonderkin and laughs with the others."
I knelt and took him by the shoulders and waited until he looked up into my eyes. "Do you know what names they called me when I was your age?"
He shook his head, bewildered.
"Oafy-wan ... Obi-Wank ... OopsieOaf ..." I ticked off the various insulting nicknames on my fingers.
He gaped at me. "You? They called *you* that?"
"Among other things." I leaned closer. "So, I can tell you from experience that the last laugh is yet to come, padawan."
He brightened. "I'll say." His expression turned thoughtful. "Do you think Master Qui-Gon was called names as well?"
I thought for a moment. "Honestly?" I paused. "No. I do not." Pictured my impressively tall, impossibly grave, master and *his* master, the venerable Yoda as they might have been years before and shook my head. "No, definitely not."
He nodded sagely at me and took my hand as we made our way back to quarters. "You know, I think you're right."
And together, we smiled.
Standard Date 1873871-1878
The Temple at Coruscant
Qui-Gon told me this morning that finding proper sparring partners for Anakin has become even more challenging in the past few weeks, and he wants to gain permission for Anakin to spar against adults.
I gaped at him. "But he's still just a boy, physically, and ..." but Qui-Gon waved away my protests.
"He won't learn unless properly challenged, and we always knew he was special."
"The Council won't allow it, Qui, that would go against all training procedure."
"Then, I'll just have to convince them," he said with a keen look in his eye that I knew all too well. It's his "Let's Teach The Council a Thing Or Two" look and I couldn't help but be afraid to see it again, so soon after our last few misadventures, most of which involved disobeying the Council at some juncture.
I thought quickly, then rose, and bowed my head formally. "Master, whatever it is you are planning, and I know you're planning something, I wish you'd reconsider it, especially if it involves defying the Council."
"Master?" He folded his arms across his chest and scowled at me. "From "Beloved" to "Master" all in a matter of hours, I see. And how can you ask me to reconsider a plan that you are in complete ignorance of?
"You are ever my beloved, ever my Master, and while I'm not sure as to the *exact* plan you have in mind, I still wish you'd reconsider."
He grumbled something incoherent and sat down hard. "Fine," he muttered after staring into space for a few minutes. "I won't speak to the Council ..." His expression slowly turned sly. "But, surely, if I ask a favor from a friend ..." He brightened and squeezed my arm. "In fact, that's even a better idea."
I blinked. "What's a better idea?"
"You'll see," he said cryptically. "Have Anakin in the sparring quarters in two hours. Make sure he's relaxed and rested. I'll get us a private room."
Later, when Anakin and I arrived in the training room, who did we see but Knight Aranalyndal, a sour-looking female knight, widely regarded as the best sabermaster in the Order. Former padawan to Council Master Plo Koon, she's known as taciturn, unpleasant ... and deadly.
I felt my heart race at the sight of her fingers tapping against her saber and swallowed hard. The annoyed look I shot at Qui-Gon was ignored and I could see displeasure spread across Aranalyndal's sharp features at the sight of Anakin.
"You said a fourth level, Master Jinn." Her tone was even, but there was no mistaking the annoyance in her voice.
Qui-Gon regarded her serenely. "Anakin is a fourth level, possibly higher."
She didn't move a muscle. "I'm not used to sparring against children." Her fingers continued to tap against her saber. "I'm not even sure if I'm permitted to spar with ..." She slid a narrow, disdainful glance at Anakin. " ... an infant."
Qui-Gon's gaze didn't even flicker. "This would be a great favor to me, Knight. Of course, it is up to you, I don't wish to hold you to anything."
I could see her considering. Obviously, there was some great favor she owed Qui-Gon, and this was payment time. She slowly withdrew her saber from her belt. "To what level?" Still annoyed, but resigned.
"Fifteenth." Serenely, and I could feel my eyes widen. Fifteenth level was the highest of the sparring forms, past that was freeform, or kill strokes.
Aranalyndal shrugged and took her place on the mat, standing as a statue might, and I could feel the Force whip through the room and surround her as she took her first position.
Anakin must have felt it as well and turned to me, his eyes huge. I cautioned him quietly against fear and told him to do his best. Insisted to him that this was just another sparring match, and he should think of it as a learning experience versus a contest.
"It's an opportunity, my padawan," I whispered cheerfully as I carefully tucked his braid away from his face. "Not many students will ever get to spar with an adept such as this. Use the Force, let it flow through you and forget your fears. We are here with you, there is nothing to be afraid of."
"Yes, Master." He swallowed hard and I pressed my lips against his forehead. Mostly for comfort, but for a little luck as well.
Even if there was no such thing, if it *did* exist, he would have needed it for this match.
Anakin took his place opposite Aranalyndal, and I could feel his concentration gather. He placed first position and I waited with bated breath for the match to begin.
It was over in less than a minute.
Seconds after the signal, Aranalyndal was clipping her saber back onto her belt and Anakin was sitting on the floor, unarmed and breathing hard. She turned away from the boy without a word and walked up to Qui-Gon and myself, her expression unreadable.
I half expected Qui-Gon to look disappointed, but his eyes were gleaming. "Well?" he asked eagerly.
She regarded him carefully. "It took longer than I thought."
I could see Qui-Gon struggle to restrain his glee. "Yes. Most wouldn't have lasted half as long as he did, correct? "
She shrugged. "Most wouldn't have lasted past the third hetasec. He lasted nearly twenty. He's offbalance for the most part, but time and training will correct that. However ..." Her expression turned grim.
"Yes?" I interjected, not liking the expression on her face. "What?"
"I'd be wary if I were you." Coldly. "That child fights to kill."
And with that, she silently retrieved her cloak and was gone.
With a sigh, I went to retrieve Anakin, who was still sitting on the floor, his arms wrapped around his knees, his gaze fixed firmly on his boots. I knelt beside him and tried to tell him that he'd done well, but he wasn't having any of it.
"She doesn't like me either." Thickly, and my heart hurt to hear it.
"Does that matter so much, my padawan?" I squeezed his shoulder. "I ... *we* love you. Can't that be enough, at least for now?"
He looked up at me, and I noticed that his expression had suddenly turned hard. He suddenly rose and snatched his saber up from where it fell and turned to me, his eyes sharp with anger. "Well, I did learn *one* thing, Master."
"And that is?" Cautiously.
"I learned that I'm going to beat her one day." Stonily. "No matter what."
He ran off and I bowed my head ... defeated.
For the first time in a very long time, I was angry, angry with Qui-Gon for putting so much pressure on a child who, mere months before, had known absolutely *nothing* of this life, and now was expected to perform at levels far exceeding children who were raised from birth to be Jedi.
Everything is stacked against this child, but all Qui-Gon can see is his accelerated skills, in his extraordinary prowess, and he ever labors under the delusion that skill will be enough for this boy to succeed in our way of life.
Qui-Gon didn't seem to notice, or care about my ire at first, but now, as I record in silence, I can feel him questioning me, sending me small prods over our bond, which, I for the moment, am choosing to ignore.
I don't want to speak to him with anger, I want to be clear minded and serene when we have this discussion about Anakin's future.
Because it might possibly be the most important one we will ever have.
End of Book Three
On to Book Four
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