Disclaimer: the respective characters belong to George Lucas
and LucasWorld. I am not making any profit.
Archive: yes, to MA archive. (also posted in homepage).
Pairing: Qui/Obi, Qui/Xanatos.
Rating: PG-13.
Category: angst, h/c, POV.
Warning: none.
Summary: An answer to the Xanatos' braid challenge. Qui-Gon
speaks. A sequel to "Springcleaning".
Going through all my old keepsakes and souvenirs was quite an
enjoyable task. Knick-knacks, odd figurines and tied-up
manuscripts filled the different shelves. Usually they gathered
dust and became forgotten. But Obi-Wan had managed to clear the
clutter, remove the layer of dust and lined everything in
perfect order. I found myself smiling at his meticulousness.
Yet, at the same time, I dreaded looking at the cabinet. It was
a place where I put all my old memories. They were all safely
tucked away in a corner of my study room. Old memories, I
mused, picking up a light-blue vase and examined it under the
light. It sparkled. Old memories ...where I keep them in a
distance. To be admired and remembered once in a while.
Sometimes, memories could be painful. Hurting. That light-blue
vase was a gift from an ambassador grateful for the Jedi's
intervention in his war-torn province. It was a tangible
reminder of his country's legacy.
Legacy. The word resonated in me. Words are an integral part of
our racial memory, my older teachers used to say. It was a word
that constantly appeared in my mind. A word linked to my
past...
"Master?"
I almost dropped the vase. Instead, I recomposed myself and
placed it back onto the shelf. Obi-Wan was standing at the
doorway. He had just returned from his 'saber practise. His
skin glistened with sweat, his eyes shining with satisfaction.
I smiled. My padawan. I reached out, smiling. "Obi-Wan."
How he had grown. From a lanky teenager to this beautiful young
man standing before me. He was my legacy.
Obi-Wan suddenly became still. I could swear his face was pale.
Concern surged within me and I stepped forward, only to be
stopped by his raised hand.
"Master, I..." He looked at his boots. I was reminded of a
younger...a much younger Obi-Wan, contrite and embarrassed.
I strode over and placed myself in front of him. I thought we
had worked on our trust. It had taken a long time, the building
and layering of trust and understanding. I lifted his chin. His
blue-green eyes bore ...defiance.
"Obi-Wan, what's wrong?"
He pulled away, shaking his head. "I..."
An image flitted across my mind: smoke billowing from a burner.
My eyes narrowed slightly. "Obi-Wan, did you burn something by
mistake?"
This time, he flung up his head in shock. "I didn't..." Guilt
was written large on his face.
"Obi-Wan, what did you do?" I noticed, belatedly, that my voice
had taken the stern master 's tone.
"I burned Xanatos' braid!" The words came out as a rush but I
caught the full meaning. Obi-Wan looked immediately
relieved...and more guilty.
"You what?" I asked softly. "You burned Xanatos' braid?" Ah,
the name hurt. The memories that came with it hurt. My nerves
throbbed, as if they were reminding how deeply Xanatos had
affected me.
"I thought you had forgotten about him, Master..." Obi-Wan spat
out, unmistakable anger in his voice. " I thought you laid him
to rest ...but you obviously didn't..."
"I..." I watched Obi-Wan as he began to pace the study room. He
was magnificent, eyes flashing, his lean form reminding me of a
caged panther. He was also angry. Betrayed, the Force informed
me matter-of-factly.
"Why did you still keep his braid? He gave you pain and I hate
that!"
"I kept...his braid for remembrance's sake. So that I won't
make the same mistake again..."
"Remembrance's sake?" Obi-Wan glared at me, all indignation.
"Xanatos turned to the Dark Side on his volition and you blamed
yourself for it. I can't bear to see you hurt once more..."
The name again. It clawed at my soul, tearing into my heart. It
was a name I used to flagellate my psyche, to remind myself of
my failures. I flinched, closing my eyes.
Obi-Wan must have realized that he had hurt me, for his tone
softened. "I don't want you to get hurt. Xanatos is history.
You have me now."
Part of me wanted to laugh while another part lifted its
eyebrow. Obi-Wan was...jealous.
"Obi-Wan."
"Don't 'Obi-Wan' me," he growled. "You told me ...a long time
ago ...that you would forget about Xanatos. For a long time, I
tried to get past your resistance, because it was still linked
to him."
"I ...thought I could nurture Xanatos," I said slowly, placing
my hand on his arm. He was shaking with suppressed frustration.
"He was an exceptional gifted boy. Don't glare at me, Obi-Wan.
Xanatos was talented, but he gave in to the rage and anger
within him. He became proud...arrogant..."
A handsome face, framed with dark hair, appeared, taunting me.
It was a beautiful face...twisted by hate and perverse
motivation. I once beheld this face and loved it
whole-heartedly. I vividly remembered the first time Xanatos
had leaned over and kissed me on the lips. Lightly, teasingly.
"I loved him..." I continued and Obi-Wan turned darkened eyes
at me. "I guess I still do... A part of me still remembers
him..."
Silence fell between us. An aching silence. Obi-Wan looked
away.
"Obi-Wan. Please listen to me. Xanatos is all but a memory to
me now. Think of him like a lost love..." I tried to inject
some humor into the situation I feared spiralling out of my
control.
"Lost love..." Obi-Wan whispered hoarsely. "You did love him
then..."
I lowered my head. " I did... and he played it to his
advantage."
Silence once more.
"All the better I burned his braid away," Obi-Wan said and
rubbed his face. He looked tired. "Qui-Gon... Master...I
promise I will not hurt you... I am not Xanatos. I am not him.
I know that I can never be him. But I am Obi-Wan Kenobi. Your
apprentice."
The resounding declaration made me smile and I hugged him
tightly. He pulled away after a while, wiping at his eyes.
"It rankled me because I wanted to be like Xanatos," Obi-Wan
had a wry grin on his face.
I smiled again. "I sensed that before."
"And you didn't pick on me for that? You are pretty sly for a
Jedi Master..."
"Cunning is a mark of a good diplomat."
Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. "You know, Master, that we have to do
some work on our trust..."
"We have to," I agreed and gathered him into his arms. He felt
so warm, so full of life, that I closed my eyes and cherished
it. "Come. A shower for you next. "
The hurt in his stance had disappeared. He was at least
smiling. The storm was over. I herded him to the door and
walked out of my study, resolutely turning my back away from
the memories of another apprentice sitting next to me, his dark
hair falling across his face...
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