La Santa Del Voto Sacro

by Buffy ( gkb_00@yahoo.com )

Pairing: hinting of Q/O

Rating: G

Notes: Yes, the planet and it's language are based off of Spain and Spanish. I'm sorry if that's too close to RL for anyone. This story is set between TPM and AotC

Summary: A local legend inspires Obi-Wan to heal from his loss.

Spoilers: I used cannon ending for TPM

Feedback: Yes, please, but be nice.

It was a relatively soft mission, probably the Council's attempt to balance the number of missions that ended in Obi-Wan and Anakin running or fighting for their lives. It was a simple religious ceremony on a small, provincial planet in the outer Core.

The Jedi were welcomed to Ethpan'ya with open arms, if the quality of the rooms were anything to go by. And unlike the countless missions where they had been forced to share rooms barely big enough for one of them, the rooms were across the palace from each other. When asked, the servant assigned to guide them explained that El-Rey had thought that both teacher and student would favor some time away from each other. In fact, most of the responsibility for Anakin had been diminished. Their hosts had scheduled Anakin to attend the special classes all Ethpan'yan children attended during this celebration. All of the classes were geared to providing the planet's youth with a better understanding of their culture's history, so Anakin would fit right in. The ruler had not scheduled anything for Obi-Wan, beyond a tour of the shrines to the saints that were located in the capital city.

The time on his own had given Obi-Wan a much needed break. Even with the knowledge of Qui-Gon's trust in him, Obi-Wan didn't feel truly capable and experienced enough to train any padawan, much less the Chosen One. But he had persevered in his duty, trying to carry out his master's last wish. This was the third morning of his stay on Ethpan'ya, and he was finishing his tour of the shrines in the capital city. The tour had filled most of the previous day, and had fascinated him so much that he had asked to be allowed to finish the tour this morning. The rulers had been so pleased at his interest in their religion, that they had been delighted to provide him with a guide to see the rest of the shrines. It was nearing noon when Obi-Wan and the guide approached the last shrine. It was very small and shabby compared with most of the others he had seen, but something told him that this would be the most interesting of all. Obi-Wan turned to his guide, a minor assistant to a member of the El-Rey's advising counsel, who was not masking his impatience very well.

"You said this was the last shrine. If you would like, I can go in alone, and find out about it from one of the Pahdrays who tends it."

The assistant was hesitant to agree. "But what about the dinner?"

"The state dinner does not start for five hours. I will make sure that I am back at the palace at least an hour before it starts. I can certainly find my way back from here, and I would hate to keep you from more important duties." Obi-Wan smiled at the last, and tried very hard not to use the force to augment his suggestion.

The assurance that he would be back in plenty of time to make it to the dinner placated the assistant, who then nodded and excused himself. As Obi-Wan turned back to the shrine, he studied it more closely.

It looked like a simple cottage, with a thatched roof. The outside was freshly whitewashed, and the little patch of yard in front of it was neat and well cared-for. The cool duskiness of the interior washed over him in a refreshing wave as he stepped inside. The inside of the shrine matched that of the outside. The front was a public area, a smallish room that was probably the front half of the cottage. The altar ran across the wall opposite the door he had just entered, and consisted of a simple shelf, with the saint's niche in the middle, and honor-candles lining the shelf to either side. The smell of incense from the altar mixed with the sent of melting wax and drying herbs, with all of it mingling to create an air of quiet contemplation. Obi-Wan moved closer to the altar, to examine the saint depicted in the small statue displayed there. The image was of a woman dressed as a commoner, with a basket of what he assumed to be herbs. She was not young, or pretty, and did not wear the look of conspicuous holiness that most of the other statues of female saints wore. No, her's was a look he had seen too many times when he looked in the mirror: an emotionless waiting, and forced resignation.

"She is not what you expected, is she," the quiet observation caused Obi-Wan to start, then chastise himself for his lack of awareness. He turned to the Pahdray who had spoken, and apologized.

"Not quite, no. So many of the other female saints were portrayed as young, beautiful, and very pious, and she seems so . . ." He could not find the word to describe her.

The Pahdray seemed to understand. He shook his head. "No, she was none of those things. In truth, she was canonized by one who was seeking to curry favor with the peasants before he attempted to overthrow the El-Rey at the time. Nuestra Señora de la promesa sacra is more known and loved by those far from cities, in the small pu'ehblohs where life is much more difficult." The Pahdray then tilted his head to the side, studying Obi-Wan. The Pahdray himself was a bit out of character for what Obi-Wan had seen. Many of the others had been plump and prosperous looking, but this one was rawboned and made no attempt to disguise that he was beyond the prime of his life. "Though you are not of our faith, I believe you will appreciate her story more than many. Come, I will tell you of La Señora. I have much free time, since few come to honor her." The Pahdray beckoned for Obi-Wan to follow him through the little door to the private area of the Shrine, adding, "I have just brewed a pot of tea, which cries to be shared with one who will appreciate it. Come, what harm will come of it?"

Obi-Wan smiled at that. "History would tell me that a great deal of harm would follow that statement. However, something tells me that this is what needs to happen." He followed the Pahdray back into the quarters, wondering what the Force had in store for him.

Like the rest of the shrine, the Padray's living quarters were smallish and a bit on the shabby side, but very comforting. The Padray directed him to sit in one of the two chairs by the little hearth while he got the tea together.

Setting the cups out, the Pahdray started. "I told you that La Señora is most revered in the country, far from the cities, where life is hard. That is because she was from that area, and that is where her miracle happened." He stopped to sip some tea.

"Forgive me for asking, Pahdray, but what does her name mean? My knowledge of Ethpan'yol is not very good. I understand that she is called either 'The Saint' of something, or 'Our Lady' of something, but I don't know the words for the rest of it," Obi-Wan was slightly embarrassed to admit this, but the kindly old man simply smiled and nodded.

"Ah, yes, this will help you understand her. To those in the city, and those who do not truly understand what she did, she is known as 'The Saint of the Sacred Vow'. But to the country folk, a vow is what you make on your wedding day, so they call her 'Our Lady of the Sacred Oath'. A small distinction, but an important one, to her disciples."

At this Obi-Wan had to smile, "Yes, sometimes one little word can make all the difference between knowing who or what someone is and truly understanding them," he remarked with humor, remembering a particular mission when a careless choice of words had sent him and his Master running from the soldiers of an insulted Queen. "Please, tell me, what did she do to become a saint?"

"It is not so much what she did, it is when she did it. This was many, many generations ago, when we were not so peaceful. The peoples of the plains and the peoples of the hill country had been fighting so long that neither people knew why anymore. La Señora was a hierbalista, one who has knowledge of how to heal with herbs and teas. Her husband was also one. They had had hopes of having a child to pass their knowledge on to, but after many years of marriage, that hope was gone. One day, raiders from the plains came to the village, and in the fight, La Señora's husband was gravely injured. As she tried to hold back his death, he begged her to promise him something. She could not deny him one last favor, so she made the oath."

"What was her oath?"

"That she would not follow him into death. That she would stay, and pass on the knowledge of the hierbas, the herbs, and that she pass the knowledge on to one with purely selfless intentions.

So, after the village had rebuilt a bit from the attack, she sent word to other villages within walking distance that she was looking for a bright young boy or girl to become her apprentice. And many came. But in talking with them, she would always find that the reason they wanted to learn about the hierbas was the honor and respect it would bring their families, or the privileges that were awarded hierbalistas, or that it would help augment a small dowry when a girl was trying to win over reluctant prospective in-laws. So she sent them all away."

"Not many understood her reasons, I assume."

"You assume correctly. But she stood firm in her determination to honor her oath to her husband.

And so, many years passed, with fewer and fewer young people coming to the Señora with hopes of becoming her apprentice. Now, you must understand, to our people, and in this time, 50 years is a great age indeed, and 60 was almost unheard of. But when the Señora was almost 90, a young woman came to her village. The maiden had walked for many days, looking for an hierbalista willing to take on an apprentice. When the Señora asked why she wanted to learn, the young woman told her how she had watched her brother and her intended husband die from wounds taken while fighting off raiders, because no one in her village had the knowledge to save them. She had made a promise to herself that it would never happen again. This answer suited the Señora, and she began the girl's lessons that day.

For three years, the girl lived with her and learned all the Señora had to teach. When the Señora announced that the girl's training was finished, that there was no more she could teacher her, the village held a great celebration. By now, La Señora had passed her 90th year, yet was no less hale than a woman of 45. Many had begun to doubt that she could die, and many more wished she never would. She had become a grandmother or mother to many of the people in her village, so the celebration was as much a celebration of her continued life as it was to observe the end of the girl's apprenticeship.

The night of the celebration, the girl went to fetch the Señora to join in the fiesta. When she entered the cottage, she found the hierbalista sitting in the chair her husband had made for her so many years ago, eyes closed, with a quiet smile on her face. By the look of things, the Señora had sat down just after telling the girl that her apprenticeship was finished, closed her eyes, and died."

The Pahdray finished the last of the tea in his mug, then poured more for them both. Obi-Wan sat quietly, thinking about the story of La Señora, and how familiar the circumstances were.

"You see now why she is so revered by so few. After all, only if one has made a promise to a loved one can one understand how strong she genuinely was."

"Yes," Obi-Wan replied, though his mind was not fully on the Pahdray's comment. "The day after tomorrow is the final day of the Holy Time. Pahdray, I thank you for your time, and for your generosity in telling this foreigner the tale of this most remarkable woman. I must go, if I am to be in time for the dinner, but may I come back?" Obi-Wan stood as he spoke.

"Of course, my child. And perhaps you are not as foreign as you think. In fact, I would say Nuestra Señora's story touched you as it has touched few Ethpan'yians. Please, come back tomorrow, we can speak more then."

Bant strode purposefully towards the quarters her friend shared with his Padawan. She had something to set straight with him. She stopped at his door, and rang the chime. The door slid open, and Obi-Wan beckoned her in from his seat at the data terminal.

"Bant, you're just the person I wanted to see. I need to ask you a favor -- "

"Obi, why didn't you tell me?!" She was working hard not to totally lose her cool. Hearing the agitation in her own voice made her stop and take a deep breath. "I thought we were good friends, that you trusted me."

Obi-Wan looked surprised, "I do. Bant, what's this all about? What should I have told you about?"

Bant sagged onto the couch, releasing her irritation at him into the Force. "When you got back from Ethpan'ya, I asked you about the mark. You told me it was part of the festival, and temporary. In talking to Anakin this afternoon, he expressed concern that your 'temporary' mark hadn't faded away yet. He wanted to know if you were having a bad reaction to the dye they used or something."

Obi-Wan pushed his chair back, rubbing his fingers over the hair that used to be where his Padawan braid had been. He stared out the window, and gave a sigh. "You asked about Ani's mark. His was temporary. I didn't lie to you about that. It is standard practice for the young and tourists on Ethpan'ya to have the mark painted on with a temporary dye. Mine is different."

"Well, let me see it. I want to know what sort of symbol you've had permanently tattooed to your worthless hide," Bant groused, not really satisfied with his answer.

Obi-Wan removed his tunics, and walked over to the couch. He knelt down in front of his oldest friend.

Bant stared at the symbol. It was about the size of the palm of Obi's hand, and was beautiful in its simplicity. A sprig of some type of herb was depicted in the center of a triangular design, the point of which pointed toward Obi's navel. The triangular design was contained in a circle, the topmost point of which just brushed bottom of the hollow where his collarbones met in front. She reached out to trace it. "Obi, why did you have it done permanently?"

Obi-Wan stood up and moved back over towards the data terminal. He pulled on his tunics, then stood looking out the window. "Because the promise I made to my Master to train Anakin was tearing me apart. I didn't feel ready to be a Knight, much less a Master. Because I had trouble reconciling my Master's actions with the council and the emotions I felt from him as he died. And while I was on Ethpan'ya, I heard the story of a woman who made a similar promise."

"Obi, what do you mean?"

"She promised her husband that she would pass on their knowledge before she joined him in death. I promised Qui-Gon that I would train Anakin. That someone else had fulfilled such a promise, it gave me hope, helped me really center for the first time."

"Oh, Obi." Bant went over to him, and hugged him hard. "I know you loved Master Qui-Gon, and were waiting to be Knighted before you said anything. I'm sorry you never found out what would have happened."

Obi-Wan just kept staring out at the Couruscant skyline. "But I did. As Qui-Gon died, as he asked me to train Ani, he dropped all his shields. I felt his love for me, and his understanding for my waiting to approach him. His words were of his duty, but his thoughts were of his heart. That's part of what made things so hard," Obi-Wan turned to Bant, and met her eyes. "Bant, for the first time since he died, I'm okay. I know that I have a duty to fulfill, but I also know that once it is done, I will be free to join him. Until then, I am content."

Bant watched his face as he spoke. She watched the play of emotions across his face, as she felt them through the Force. And the Force spoke to her, whispering in a voice that she would swear sounded a lot like Master Qui-Gon's. "You know Obi, for the first time since he died, I believe you when you say you're okay."

They stood silently for a moment, reflecting on the events that had brought them to this place and time.

"You know, if we hurry, we might be able to catch Garen in the Commissary before he gets shipped off on his next mission. Feel like swapping stories with some old friends for a while?"

"Does Master Yoda talk funny?"

The sound of friends laughing filled the quarters as the sun set on the Jedi temple.