Master Apprentice
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Category: A/U, Romance, Angst, Q/O
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.
Feedback: We'd love to hear from you! kassxf@aol.com
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 -- : The Journal of Obi-Wan Kenobi and Qui-Gon Jinn -- On Kossuth, secrets are uncovered to disastrous effect.
Standard Date: 81798762-876
The Jedi Academy at Kossuth
We arrived without incident on Kossuth and I'm glad to be resting at last.
The Jedi Academy here is small, nestled at the base of a large mountain. Woods and meadows surround us and the climate is moderate, with four full cycles of weather, the winter being the shortest.
I've spent a little time unpacking and setting up our quarters much to Qui-Gon's annoyance. He wants me in bed but I'm far to restless for such inactivity. I've been grudgingly allowed a few hours a day to take care of our domestic needs but my love's a harsh master -- once those hours are up into bed I go.
Luckily, I have my datapad and this recorder to take away some of the boredom.
Our new quarters are nowhere near as spacious as our old ones on Coruscant but they are comfortable, in a cozy, lowtech sort of way. There's an actual fireplace in the common room and the 'fresher uses only water, no sonics.
The food here is good, fresh and plentiful, and those hideous nutrition squares that are a main supper staple back at Temple are nowhere to be found. Not much meat to be had but that's fine with me ... eating what were once living things always gives me a vague sense of indigestion once the initial satisfaction has passed.
Yes, Qui-Gon chose well, I think.
Anakin immediately took to his new surroundings, much to my surprise. I think the vast metropolis of Coruscant intimidated him more than he let on and he's already made friends with a few of the initiates, most of whom are more relaxed and less competitive than the ones at Temple. The chance to become a healer or Agricorp farmer is no shame for these children and my padawan is suddenly making odd noises in regard to certain medical classes he'd like to take come this upcoming semester.
Unfortunately, I have enough prescience to know that Anakin isn't fated for either healing or farming, but it will do him no harm to expand beyond his current studies.
Qui-Gon has spoken with the Academy leader, a master by the name of Talon. He's already explained our situation in detail so as to protect us against problems when the gossip reaches here in whatever form it might arrive.
According to Qui-Gon, Talon listened to the story serenely, murmured something about "foolish politics" and then asked if my bondmate would like another cup of qailin tea, before dropping the subject altogether.
Qui-Gon said he might be wrong but this certainly seems to be a good omen.
He's promised to join me in bed later and I'm looking forward to it. Starships bunks aren't built for couples and I'm tired of being alone at night. Like any living entity, a mating bond needs nurturing to keep it alive, making sure it grows.
I intend on doing a lot of nurturing, starting tonight.
Standard Date 187976762-87967
The Academy at Kossuth
Strange dreams haunt me and even now as I record this in the middle of a cool Kossuth night, I can remember little but an overwhelming sensation of fear and dread. It feels like a shapeless, cold pressure -- hard against my chest, freezing like ice hovering over my legs, sending sharp fire down my back.
There is something ...
These are leftovers from my experience on Coruscant no doubt, perhaps leftover fears from all our recent misadventures. I will simply have to meditate more and let these things go. I should be ashamed of my inability to serenely face this anxiety, but these sensations are so strange, and these fears, they are like none I've ever known before.
Qui-Gon is worried, I can see the concern etched into his features. He too isn't feeling well and I could feel the slight tremor in his arms when he held me after I was jolted awake by the latest nightmare.
He soothed me with kisses, very deep and slow and soon I'd forgotten about everything except the sensation of his body against mine, the welcome warmth of his desire and desperate need.
"I love you," he whispered as he took me and everything else faded within that glorious confession. He doesn't allow me to respond, my mouth kept busy with other things, but he knows ... oh, he knows.
I think he always did.
But that was hours ago and I now find myself still dreading a return to sleep. Shameful, I keep thinking, shameful this fear I have of shadows past.
If they are indeed only shadows.
Standard Date 187976762-87967
The Academy at Kossuth
Qui-Gon's chest pains are bothering him more and he spends most of his time in denial about them. He sees the healers grudgingly and only after nagging from both myself and Anakin. He claims perfect fitness for someone his age and his attempts to prove that fact to me, while highly pleasurable, are not completely convincing.
He's forgotten that our training bond is still active and I can feel whispers of pain shoot across it, even while on the other side of the academy.
Still, he is a grown man and I must trust him to take care of himself.
I only hope he remembers that he has two people who love and need him very, very much.
I've been finally freed from my prison of bed rest and have spent the past few days attending to Anakin's second-year training, which is coming along wonderfully. I've returned him to the sparring ring and his control has improved one thousand percent. The older initiates are glad to spar with him and patient as well, which at once pleases and surprises me. He beats them handily time after time and is graceful in victory, even helpful to the smaller ones, glad to take the extra time and point out both their strengths and weaknesses.
Compassionate my padawan is, so like Qui-Gon, which I now realize is a good thing.
I've been offered various assignments at the academy and one of them is teaching a class in saber acrobatics, a favorite subject of mine. I love the freedom of Force flight and teaching a group sounds like a welcome challenge.
I asked Qui-Gon what he thought of this idea and he made an uncharacteristically randy joke in regard to my flexibility which made me laugh very hard, not only at the joke itself, but at the very notion of my beloved making it.
Solemn Jedi Master, indeed.
Aches and pains not withstanding, he seems happily ensconced here, taking care of our domestic chores and continuing his research, but at a much easier pace. His paranoia and anger has eased somewhat as well, much to my relief.
It *has* been a terrible past few months, I know, but we can't let our imaginations stray into territories we have no business exploring, not only for our sake, but for Anakin's, whose emotional situation is precarious enough.
We need our full faculties, if indeed the Chosen One we are to train.
Standard Date 187976762-87976
The Academy at Kossuth
Another nightmare, this one much worse than the previous ones.
I think I'm beginning to remember exactly what transpired during those missing hours in Tarkin's presence and Force, it is ...
Force.
I've raised my shields and voluntarily cut off mine and Qui- Gon's training bond for the time being. We really have no use for it and I can't risk causing him anxiety, not with his wound still bothering him.
It's too painful, these cloudy visions of an assault, these nightmares of Tarkin's leering grin and the terrible feeling that there is something ... something horribly important that I'm forgetting.
Qui-Gon woke immediately when I severed the bond and I told him the honest truth as to the reason why. "There's no need for both of us to suffer especially since I don't know exactly what's causing these nightmares," I said firmly. "I'll see the healers tomorrow and request a truth trance."
"Do you think it was Tarkin?" His eyes were filled with cold rage and I began to fret over his health, again. Stress is no good for him, that much I know.
With this in mind, I decided to tell him a half-truth for the first time in our lives together. "I'm not sure, the dreams are too clouded to tell." In truth, the only thing in the dream that's clear is Tarkin's face, but Qui-Gon has no need to hear that.
But my love knows me, knows me better than I know myself and he scowled deeply, disbelieving. "He should have been censored years ago. We should be ashamed he's been allowed to carry on so for so long." He lay back down with a heavy sigh. "I'm afraid, my love. Afraid for our Republic. The corruption is no longer scattered between a few rogue Senators or a few wayward worlds, but its infection festers everywhere, in every Senate box and I can't believe the Jedi allow it." He peered at me with sad eyes. "I'm afraid for you, my only one. Promise me that you'll not hide from me, that you will do nothing to jeopardize yourself. I love you too much and without you, I am nothing. Promise me now."
I curled against him and wrapped my arms around his waist. "I'm fine. We're both fine and things will certainly get better. You'll see. You have nothing to fear, my heart. I'm sure these nightmares will fade soon enough." I tried to sound sincere, tried not to let him hear the doubt in my voice, but I'm not sure if I succeeded.
But he nodded agreeably anyway. I tried to lighten the mood by making a randy joke of my own and he replied in quite an agreeable manner, his beautiful hands and mouth making very short work of me. I swear, I didn't know it possible to love someone so passionately, to feel such desire and how glad I am to have him with me.
With me, my Qui-Gon, for the rest of our natural lives and beyond. My lover and teacher, best friend and partner in both battle and bed and how lucky I am to have made at least one commitment that I will never, ever regret.
Force, I am babbling. He's asleep now and I may as well join him, at least for a short while. I can see the sun nearing the horizon and today my padawan must get up to begin the first series of sunrise meditations. I fear his master must rise with him and rattle the saber so to speak, to get him up and about.
For, as I remember, the only thing that got me up on those cold, dark mornings was the threat of my own master's displeasure.
Let's hear it for graduation.
Standard Date 187976762-7366
The Academy at Kossuth
I went to the healers this morning and explained my situation in detail. To my surprise they seemed very concerned, even vaguely uncomfortable at my request for a truth trance. They claim the likely result would be more stress, not less, and while I'm in the midst of training Anakin and caring for Qui-Gon any revelations would be only a distraction.
"You cannot change what has happened, if anything." The Gaurmdian healer looked grave. "The cultivation of truth must have a purpose and I fear the only motive likely here is revenge."
I felt my jaw clench, but shielded my thoughts tightly. "I have no plans on taking revenge for an action that is over and done with, but I feel that learning the reasons behind what happened is important."
"I think the "why" in this case is obvious, Obi-Wan." Amartian, a tiny Queel, shook her head. "From what I've heard from Coruscant, Tarkin has a long history of deviant behavior in regard to sexual matters. Some of the stories we've gathered are truly horrific." Her voice turned soothing. "I think, Obi- Wan, that instead of pursuing a truth trance, you might instead consider letting us do an memory erasure. Melin is very precise and ..."
"Thank you, but no." I couldn't help the sharpness of my tone and immediately felt ashamed. "I like my memories where they are, all of them, the good as well as the bad." I bowed to each healer in turn. "I withdraw my request for a trance at this time. Thank you for your help."
Amartian nodded sympathetically. "We only want what's best for our patients." She paused. "And speaking of patients ..." she hesitated. "Your bondmate is a most obstinate man. I hope he's following our advice."
"I don't know if he is or isn't, frankly," I sighed. "He refuses to divulge in detail what advice he's been given, probably because he fears that I will enforce it to the letter."
Melin the Gaurmdian scowled at me. "As well our advice should be enforced. I don't mean to distress you, Knight Kenobi, but Master Jinn is not well, not at all. He needs absolute rest, no work, no stress of any sort and yet I see him day after day in the library, pouring over old books, even occasionally chasing after that young padawan of yours." He shook his head. "Amartian and I both fear for his well-being. That saber wound ..."
"Nearly killed him." A lump was forming in the my throat and it became increasingly difficult to swallow. "I will speak to him. Thank you again."
I left quickly before either one of them could continue telling me things I had no desire to hear. Qui-Gon has never lied to me, not once in all the years I've known him, but he has withheld vital information from me on more than one occasion. I'll admit I was more than a little annoyed at what the healers told me -- the fear of losing him was, and is still, my most terrifying nightmare.
I've made a stopover in the southern gardens to calm myself before speaking to Qui-Gon and I think making this journal entry has helped. I know what Qui-Gon does is only out of concern and love, but I think he has trouble understanding that only if he is truly well, not merely claiming to be when he is not, will we then be content and happy.
A calm, rational discussion is needed now and if he refuses to obey the healers instructions, then tying him to the pallet with Force is not entirely out of the question.
Not by a long shot.
Standard Date 187976762-7726
The Academy at Kossuth
Tonight , without a doubt, has been the most miserable evening of my existence.
More miserable than the night following Qui-Gon's wounding on Naboo, worse by far, because this time the damage to my beloved was done by the one person whom he should have the least cause to fear.
His sworn bondmate and love ... me. I'm the one who's hurt him this time, and if he dies because of what I've done ...
No ... no, I will not let him die. The healers here are good and I will hold onto faith, no matter what may come. Ah, but I should have known, I should have seen the signs -- they were there all along.
His exhaustion and irritability was more than a little evident when I came back from the gardens. Admittedly, I was not so serene as I should have been and the anger bubbled back very quickly when I saw how pale and tired he was from an afternoon of doing little more than sitting and reading.
I asked him point blank about the healer's advice and he looked at me foggily, more distracted than I'd ever seen him. Again I asked, my voice rising in spite of my training and he jumped at the sound of it.
Immediately, he responded in kind and I flinched at the sound of his anger, a noise which I was by no means accustomed to. But, stubborn fool that I am, I continued on in the same vein, arguing him down until at last he slumped in his chair, looking defeated.
It was then he came out with yet another bit of vital information he'd been withholding for who knows how long.
"I found ... " Soft and forced, as if he could barely say it. "I found the k'ludal." I could feel the blood drain from my face in a dizzying rush as he peered up at me, his own cheeks ashen with fear. "Oh, love. How could you? You know ..."
My fear and shame immediately manifested itself as anger when I remembered that blasted sash I'd so foolishly hung onto, Force knows why. I should have hung my head in remorse, instead I could only yell. "All I know now is that I cannot trust you, Qui-Gon Jinn. How dare you go through my things? I forbid you to speak of ..."
Shakily, he rose to his feet, his own voice rising in volume as he shouted over me. "How dare *I*? How dare you speak of things forbidden! Forbidden the k'ludal is! You claim many things, Obi-Wan -- that you love and respect our life and ways, but this proves otherwise. Have you so little faith, so little regard for our teachings, so little care for my love for you that you'd ..."
I was choking by this time, mortified and furious. "Your love? I was the one who loved you. You knew it all along but it didn't matter, did it? You would have forsaken me to join the Force if I'd have allowed it, just as you would forsake me now and let yourself decline to a point from which there is no return," I rasped, my whole body shaking. "Your great compassion is nowhere to be found, my teacher and better to resign myself to my saber than ..."
"NO!" he roared and tottered toward me, his hands grabbing my shoulders roughly. He shook me hard, and continued to shake until my teeth rattled. "Never! You must swear to me that you will NEVER even consider taking your own life, for any reason, even if ..."
He stopped then, his face turning perfectly white and his grip on my shoulders loosened. I stopped mid-rant and reached for him, holding him as he slowly crumpled in front on me, as insubstantial as a creature made of rags.
He was gasping for air, his face twisted with pain and I sent out an immediate call for the healers, anger turning into terror for him.
Slowly, I lowered him to the floor and it was there that I cradled him in my arms, my mind flashing back to a similar moment not so many months before, just as frightening.
He blinked then touched my cheek, mouthing silent words of love and comfort. I was speechless with horror, thinking for sure I'd killed him. But he kept shaking his head and caressing my cheek, even as I *felt* raking knives of pain that were suffocating him right before my eyes.
The healers arrived in record time, thank the Force, and they seemed prepared for this emergency. Melin lifted Qui-Gon as easily as if he were a child and Amartian quickly administered a hypospray of medication that seemed to immediately ease Qui- Gon's pain, allowing him to breath easier.
He was brought to the infirmary and it is outside there I wait, with Anakin beside me, pale but composed. I can see my padawan is determined to be the strong one and I's grateful for it, as beneath this cool exterior ... I am falling apart.
So many mistakes. So many foolish things and yet I'm not the one who must pay. The shame of this fact alone should kill me, but instead, I am allowed to live, while the one most worthy of life, of my love and care is near death because of my awful, idiotic mistakes.
I can't cry, not now while Anakin is here, all I can do is sit and pretend to care what I am writing in this journal while we wait for word from the healers.
And I will have to accept that word, no matter what it might be.
Oh, damn. Damn this all.
Standard Date: 81798762-876
The Jedi Academy at Kossuth
Well, the damnable physician here insists on seeing me regularly, and has sent for my records from Coruscant.
I suppose I should not complain, Kossuth appears to be agreeing with the rest of my household. Obi-Wan seems to be physically well now, although the nightmares trouble him.
And me, to be honest with myself. I'm still not sleeping as well as I ought, and I've been awake more often than not when I hear him making small sounds in his throat. Sometimes, if I catch him soon enough, I can divert it by soothing him, but often my touch brings him awake and upright, sweating and shaken.
The worst thing is that he attempts to reassure me, even while his hands are still shaking with the aftermath. I am not, however, reassured.
That cursed sash still haunts me. If I knew for certain what had driven him to it....but this isn't the time to raise that issue. It's given me a few new nightmares of my own, I'm afraid, and I worry about Anakin, who surely has enough to face without having to deal with uncertainty in his household.
I suppose that worry is groundless.
There are ruins here, still, of one of the first Jedi temples ever constructed. The weather has been wonderful this last few days and I've taken Anakin over a few times; it's a common enough place that the young initiates and padawans frequently explore it, or just seek out private space for themselves to meditate or study.
There was a great earthquake which destroyed this Temple, if I remember my history correctly, and the new Temple, attached to the academy, was constructed with stabilizers. The ruins were left to be honored, and honored they have been. The grounds are not overgrown, but tended along with the Academy grounds.
Obi-Wan joined us this afternoon there, sitting beside me on the grass in the sun while Anakin joined a few of the other boys his age in exploring a grotto. "The sun feels good," he told me, leaning back against the wall at our backs. "I always forget what it feels like on Coruscant. I think that's why I always loved visiting other worlds."
I smiled, remembering, put my arm around him and drew him close. "I confess, it's good to be away from Coruscant," I admitted. "This feels peaceful to me. I have offered to teach, by the way, just to keep from vegetating."
"You could use a little vegetating, it seems to me," he told me seriously. "I'm going to the physician with you next time, this is beginning to worry me."
"You're more than welcome to go," I told him gently. "But I've been telling you what they've told me. There's a bit of this and a bit of that, but I'm in good health for a man who should have been dead, if not for his stubborn padawan."
He studied my face. "Well, I will, if only to badger them." A little more lightly.
"Love, you know very well the dangers of being bonded to someone twice your age." I tightened my arm. "I intend to take good care of my health, I assure you. I've become very jealous of time's passage, I want as much time with you as possible." I brooded a moment. "The loss of balance G'vra and I discussed, I'm afraid. It isn't that I'm afraid of death, precisely, it's just that having gained what I have, I don't want to cut our time short."
He smiled then and leaned into me. "We're both becoming unbalanced then, Qui."
I kissed his temple. "At least I have good company," I teased. "If you're going to badger, perhaps you can convince them I'm not going to go into a decline if I stop visiting them every few days."
He laughed softly. "I'll do my best. Ani! Not on your life, Anakin, get down from there at once, you haven't mastered those exercises yet."
I couldn't help laughing, and the sun seemed brighter all at once.
But winter is coming and the clouds come in each evening, and it's raining now. Anakin has never seen rain and Obi-Wan is out on the terrace with him. I suggested an extra tunic and a rainslick and I can see him out there with his face tipped up into the rain, I can hear the delighted laughter of a child who has forgotten serious things in a moment of joy.
It eases my heart, which feels just as shadowed as the mountains in the evening. Between Obi-Wan's nightmares and my own, I think I'm coming to dread the night for the first time in my life.
Standard Date: 81798762-87622
The Jedi Academy at Kossuth
I sent Obi-Wan to bed early. He was unhappy about that, but I kissed and chivvied and coaxed, and he at last allowed himself to admit that he was tired.
He had some dinner and went to bed, and instead of joining him, I took it upon myself to unpack the rest of our things and put them away. My reasoning was simple: we are lifemates, we will be here awhile, I'll find a place for everything and our new home will be in order when he awakens.
Almost, I wish I had gone to bed.
Almost.
I was unpacking his things, old keepsakes from his boyhood, some of them from his time as my padawan, and there was something tucked carefully flat. I lifted it out--Obi-Wan had created a K'ludal sash.
I don't know when, but I suspect it was on Naboo.
K'ludal.
The word refuses to leave my mind, it lies heavily there, just another omen that makes my heart ache.
In the early days of the Order, it was an honorable thing to do, for a padawan to swear himself to his saber and end his life once his master had been killed.
Those were, after all, the days before and during the fall of the Sith. As an order, the Jedi were still formulating the Code, trial and error. And there was always the chance that a padawan's awakened abilities with Force could be twisted and turned toward darkness if he or she were captured.
In those days, it was honorable. It is not so, now. The Council forbade it, and when that failed, they punished it, driving in the lesson that the Sith had fallen and K'ludal was far too close to that Darkness to allow.
He would have been buried in the soil of Naboo. Rotting and putrescent, instead of little more than a breeze on the wind.
K'ludal.
Obi-Wan considered K'ludal. I can't seem to get my mind wrapped around that; even now, with the damnable thing across my knee, I am cold to the bone.
I've reasoned with myself, he thought I was dying, we had mended the worst breach, but his heart was still sore because he thought me eager to be rid of him. Worst of all, he must have also chafed to fly freely, and been caught between both emotions.
The Sith have returned, and with them.....my padawan created a K'ludal.
His braid would have been buried with him, and his saber, once the stone had been smashed.
His name would have been stricken from all records. It would have been as if he had not ever existed.
My Obi-Wan....
I can't face him with this now. He's still recovering, and it's clear to me that it was born of pain or fear. And fear, as I know intimately, leads to anger.
K'ludal.
I'm going to go to bed instead and pretend that I never found it, at least for the moment. We'll talk when he's fully recovered.
I'm older than him, my reflexes grow slower by increments, and I cannot face the thought that my death might lead to this.
I'm burning this abomination tonight before I seek my bed.
Standard Date: 81798762-9818
The Jedi Academy at Kossuth
Obi-Wan woke from a nightmare last night, shortly after I'd come to bed. Sweating and shaken, he told me he couldn't quite remember the details, but I suspect, oh, I suspect things my mind is not yet ready to face.
I found a clean sleeptunic for him, brought a damp cloth to wipe the sweat away, and ended up slowly, gently, lovingly wiping away whatever touch it might be that his dreams recall.
We made love, or rather I made love to him, praying that it would erase my own fears as well as whatever memories awaken in his dreams.
My beloved, my lifemate, my Obi-Wan.
But I worry. And Ani worries, too. I could see it in his face this morning, and though I distracted him by helping him convert Coruscant's calendar back to planetary dates--his naming day is approaching quickly--I could see that he was still troubled.
When he returned from meeting his new classmates--who appear to be a quieter and less competitive lot than those on Coruscant, at least so far--I sat down and talked to him.
"Obi-Wan is going to be all right, Ani," I told him over a cup of tea. "It's just going to take a bit of time. It's a frightening thing to have your volition and wits stolen from you, particularly for a Jedi."
He gazed at me for a moment. "Can't Jedi keep that from happening to them?"
"Some can. Some can sense poison or drugs in even the smallest amounts. But Obi-Wan and I are human, and that is not a human gift."
That small chin came up stubbornly. "I'm going to learn how. No one is ever going to do that to me."
I had to suppress my smile. "I certainly hope not."
He nodded firmly and added sweetener to his tea. "And if they tried, I'd....." He looked at me narrowly."I'd punish them."
I knew I should chide him, but that would have been hypocrisy. "I think that would be fair," I finally told him softly. "But let it be justice and not revenge, Ani."
He frowned for a moment, before nodding again. "I suppose. Master Qui-Gon, back on Coruscant, they were making nasty jokes about Obi-Wan. I didn't understand all of them."
I sighed. "You know about sex, Ani. Well, there are those who have....unusual ways of seeking their pleasure in sex, and sometimes those ways *are* nasty. The place where Obi-Wan was found was....it was a place where even children are bought and sold as sexual objects."
I studied him for a moment. There was a time to offer detail and a time to let those details rest, and Anakin is still young enough that I was not willing to offer them. Not yet.
Although given the nature of his early environment, it seemed, I was feeling overprotective.
He nodded without any sign of shock or alarm. "There was a place like that by Watto's. Mama always said I should stay close to the shop or our house except when I was with other people I knew and trusted."
"Your mama was wise." I sighed again. "At any rate, Obi-Wan has also been assigned to someone, one of the Prime Chancellor's aides, and that someone has a reputation for such unsavory kinds of...pursuits."
I swear, I could feel my pulse pounding at my throat, just thinking about that targa's whelp, Tarkin. I took another sip of tea and thought fixedly of water over stone, wind over water until it slowed again. "So, you see, there are also those who enjoy seeing another person lose...respect. So they spread the story far and wide. Obi-Wan has always been among the best of padawans, and now that he is a knight, there are some who would enjoy seeing him fall." I managed a rueful smile. "Remember, Ani, even Jedi can be regrettably flawed."
He was frowning again. "They were saying that Obi-Wan was like that, weren't they." Temper flared. "Someday, when we go back, I'll make them wish they were sorry."
I ruffled his hair. "Ah, Ani, likely they already are. That's the trouble with letting yourself slip like that, you always know you have done wrong and must make amends even if you don't know how. I don't doubt that many of your more annoying companions there already regret their unkindness to you."
He muttered something under his breath, and I waited, briefly worried until he nodded and drank more of his tea. "Well, so far, I like the others here better. I guess we'll see how they feel about me when I get to spar again."
A sadly cynical tone for such a small boy. I ruffled his hair again. "I'm very proud of you, Ani. It's not pleasant being the object of envy, especially when you don't understand why. But you've managed it far better than many adult Jedi."
He flushed, but with pleasure, ducked his head. "Thank you, Master Qui-Gon."
"You're quite welcome. Now, why don't you go see if you can coax your master inside, he's out looking at the garden and no doubt pulling weeds. His term as gardener seems to have taken hold of him."
He grinned and slid out of his chair. "Yes, Master Qui-Gon."
And off he went.
How can I chide the boy for anger when I feel it too? Somehow, it's another balance point, and one I seem to have forgotten how to reach. More meditation is definitely in order.
Standard Date: 81798762-8763
The Jedi Academy at Kossuth
I think it has been three days since our lives again came unraveled. I'm not sure, exactly, I woke in the infirmary after crushing pain in my chest drove me under.
I need to figure out what happened, precisely. For a few days before that, I had experienced fleeting aches in my chest, but meditation generally eased my pulse rate and breathing and it passed. I did *not* want to take time away from Obi-Wan and Anakin.
Obi-Wan's nightmares have worsened, and I think he's beginning to remember what happened to him during the four missing days. He seems to deal well enough with Anakin, but once Anakin is in class or in bed, he is subdued.
Was subdued. I don't know how he is now, I've been here for three days, and all I know is what I see when he's allowed in. Forced cheer, with grief and worry behind his eyes, and I've tried again and again to assure him that I'll be fine.
After all, that's what they tell me, and if the Sith did not succeed in killing me, I doubt my own procrastination will.
At any rate, he had gone for a walk while Anakin was in class, and wished to go alone. I confess, the moment he left, I searched for his saber, and when I found it...well, my knees felt a bit weak for a moment from relief.
It was then that the pain struck again, not quite so fleeting. I sat down, considered going to the infirmary, but I wanted to be home when Obi-Wan returned. So, foolishly, I lay down instead, meditated and practiced breathing exercises until the pain eased again.
And practiced relaxation exercises as well, to such good effect that I fell asleep. And dreamt of Obi-Wan, out on the hills, out near the ruins.
I'm not sure of the details now, but I woke disoriented and shocked and the pain was back. So was Obi-Wan, leaning over the bed, his expression concerned.
I don't even recall what I said, but I saw him take it in, I saw him react, and somehow, for some reason I can't recall, we were quarreling. I think I told him I'd found the sash, and demanded he swear to me that he would never consider such a thing again, no matter what happened to me.
He was furious, accused me of going through his private belongings, and I believe we were both shouting at one another when the pain went from being bearable to feeling as if someone had reached into my chest and squeezed my heart in a fist.
I remember his expression changing, and I think I tried to say something, and that's all I recall.
The physicians on Naboo, evidently, had done a good job, but not one up to the standards of Jedi physicians. When the lightsaber had passed through my chest, my heart and lung were seared through, of course, and there had been damage to my heart that they had not repaired as skillfully, says Quilla, the physician in charge of my case, as they might have done.
So, my activities since then have put further stress on an already weakened organ, and here we are.
Let us not forget that lung, I remind myself ruefully, and at present I am undergoing a new genetic repair technique which forces the organ to grow new cells to repair the damage.
In the meantime, I am in the infirmary for the duration. And to be honest, far too weak to fight it.
Standard Date: 81798762-838
The Jedi Academy at Kossuth
Another few days, and I confess to some frustration. I'm still intolerably weak, and yet I continue obedient.
Anakin has obviously decided that I'm telling the truth, he no longer looks either grim or frightened. Obi-Wan...ah, well, my beloved appears at last to be reassured, but I still see shadows in his eyes at times. I had almost rather they be from his experience on Coruscant.
He came in yesterday as I was dozing, and would have withdrawn, but I caught his hand and brought the palm to my lips. He blinked hard, smiled a little and leaned down to brush his mouth over mine. "You behave yourself," he told me, mock sternly, "I want you well and home again."
"I will, my word on it." I squeezed his hand lightly. "I am, if you heed the physicians, doing extraordinarily well. I told them I had excellent motivation." That got a real smile and another brief kiss and he sat down on the edge of the bed. "And how are you, love?"
That shadow passed behind his eyes again. "Well enough, missing you, keeping busy with Anakin."
I wish he would talk to me about it. I wish he would tell me why we quarreled, but I don't want to take us down that path when I can feel the worry in the throb of his pulse against my fingertips.
I rubbed my thumb on his palm. "I'm going to be fine. Better than fine. In a way, this is a blessing, else we might not have realized the extent of the damage."
He gave me a dubious look, sighed. "I suppose." His fingers laced with mine.
We talked more, of course, inconsequentials, Anakin's progress, his own explorations around the Academy.
But I know he's still troubled, and I fear he has not faced what happened yet. Not yet.
fini
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