Chapter Text
Qui-Gon dreamed that he was buried beneath a great mass of sand. His body was smothered under each grain, slipping further and further under the sediment waters. The weight pressed down hard on his throat and chest, choking him. He gasped, frantically straining for breath under the crushing weight.
Force, help me, he cried into the deep void in his mind where the darkness sat coiled like a desert adder, languidly sliding along the surface of his conscious, waiting for the moment to strike with poisoned fangs. Where was the light? Where was the Force?
Where was Ben?
Obi-Wan, he gasped, plunging into the vastness, searching for the glowing strand that encapsulated their bond. Where was his child of light?
There was a white flash somewhere close to him and he lurched toward it.
White. White hair that was soft beneath his fingers.
Obi-Wan. Ben.
Another flash and a quiet chuckle.
Oh, he knew that sound like he knew the banthas’ calls in the desert morning. Or the quiet hum of Ben’s coolant system coming to life in the dank corner of the kitchen it was unceremoniously kept in. He knew that musical sound like he knew the song of the Force when he called to it.
That was Obi-Wan. That was Ben.
Images filled his mind, blinking into visibility and disappearing almost immediately after. They were beautiful memories of his apprentice, his child of light. He could see the way his boy would throw his head back when he laughed. There was such joy, such carefree abandon flowing wild in those gray-blue eyes. His laugh was bold. Musical. The Force shone when its child laughed.
Obi-Wan.
Another image. Qui-Gon watched the way his apprentice’s eyebrows drew together in confusion or twisted in an amused smirk. This was a look he knew quite well. His Padawan enjoyed poking fun. He delighted in the sarcastic wit that could turn the tides of trouble from dark despair to amusement. The evidence of his mirth glinted in those gray-blue eyes.
Padawan.
The images sped up, flickering through the darkness in his mind with the speed of a ship entering hyperspace.
There were his missions with Obi-Wan, teaching him the intricacies of diplomacy, moving skillfully through Master/Padawan katas, matching form and breath in the Force.
There were his memories of meditating in the mornings and nights, sitting cross-legged across from one another on the floor, sharing in the Force bond that connected their souls.
There was laughter and jest, tender moments that prompted fond tugs on a growing braid.
And there were darker moments carrying his limp child through the Halls of Healing, holding his Padawan’s hand over the rails of a sick bed.
There were the darker moments when his Padawan recoiled from his touch and their bond was smothered in the shields raised between them. The moment when betrayal had echoed so loudly through their bond in the Council Chamber when Qui-Gon announced his intention to train Anakin. Or the betrayal on the younger face of his apprentice when the Jedi Master first rejected him.
Oh, Obi-Wan.
The images shifted. Now his Padawan was older, much older. His young, virile face was etched with deep lines, weathered, wrinkled, pained. There were his gray-blue eyes, no longer sparkling. They carried deep in their stormy orbs the weight of one who holds the world on his burdened shoulders. They were the eyes of a wise old teacher, one who has seen too much.
He remembered the quiet, peaceful air that surrounded his old apprentice. In Ben’s hut, Qui-Gon had felt safe and secure. The desert was a place he could be cared for. Life was so simple and strangely beautiful in its plain moments. The desert was a barren place, yet full of liveliness.
Focus, Master Jinn.
The wry tone cut through the haze in his mind and he raised his head, gasping as if he had been holding his breath underwater.
That was Ben’s voice.
You are treading in places you should not go, Master Qui-Gon. Open your eyes.
Qui-Gon turned to the sound of his Padawan’s voice, but the sentence echoed endlessly through his mind. There was nowhere to go. The dark in his mind filled the cracks and crevices in every corner. There was no direction, no up or down, left or right. There was just dark. Pressing dark. Smothering dark.
Focus, Master Jedi.
Qui-Gon froze in the darkness.
Focus. He needed to focus. He needed to listen to his Padawan and his Master.
The darkness was hollow and silent in his head, foreboding. But just beneath its thick hide, Qui-Gon could hear the gentle song of the Force.
He called out to it, imagining his voice splitting the walls of black in his head, cutting a path to the great power.
There was light ahead.
And Qui-Gon knew that Obi-Wan was ahead.
Open your eyes. Those were the words of his old apprentice. Qui-Gon narrowed his focus on the light, letting it warp and grow bigger, brighten into a blinding flare. He embraced the flood of the Force as it twisted through his veins, changing his blood to liquid fire. It moved through him, violent as the crashing sea and gentle as a still pond, raging and healing all at once.
Open your eyes, it commanded, flooding his limbs with the strength of durasteel.
The Jedi Master imagined the sand that buried his body in crushing weight and clawed at the clumps of sediment that layered over his body. The dark would not take him. No. He would honor his old Padawan.
Open your eyes, the Force commanded, gently now.
And Qui-Gon did.
***
“Qui-Gon sir, Qui-Gon sir! You have to wake up.” The young voice cut through the haze in the Jedi Master’s head. He blinked painfully against the sudden glare of artificial light. The voice was accompanied by an insistent tug on his tunics. “Qui-Gon sir, come on! Padme said we’ll be landing soon!”
Qui-Gon groaned and sat up, taking in the appearance of the small child at his bedside. Anakin.
A fond smile curled the Jedi Master’s lips as he watched the excitement ripple in the Force almost visibly around the child.
“You must not have gotten a lot of sleep last night in your excitement,” he murmured, swinging his legs over the cot.
Anakin reddened and began twisting his fingers nervously. “I’ve never been off Tatooine. Well, except when we went to Coruscant. Padme told me Naboo is the most beautiful planet in the whole galaxy. She said the planet was covered in mountains and trees!”
Qui-Gon chuckled and reached out to ruffle the boy’s hair. “I am sure you will love her planet. Naboo is a beautiful place. But first we must make it so.”
Anakin peered mournfully up at him. “Padme said her people were dying. What if we get there and it’s too late?”
Pain twisted in Qui-Gon’s heart. The young boy was already so selfless and pure. He was worried about Naboo’s people, citizens he had never met, people who were born free. Anakin would be a magnificent Knight one day.
“Anakin,” He whispered intently and placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “We must concentrate on here and now. Worrying about something that might not come to pass will unbalance us. We will lose focus of what is important. Have faith in the Force, my young friend. It will not lead you astray.”
Anakin nodded and offered him a trembling smile.
The Jedi Master gently took the boy’s hand and led him out of the room.
***
Qui-Gon did not see his Padawan until the ship landed deep in wild Gungan territory. Obi-Wan had effortlessly managed to avoid seeing or talking to the Jedi Master, moving purposefully from the cockpit of the ship to the throne room to the lower deck. Agony tore through Qui-Gon’s heart as he realized how much his Padawan desired to be away from him. Their bond, once open and light, was strained and smothered in the shields Obi-Wan had built around his mind.
They were strong and impenetrable.
The Jedi Master had lived in Ben’s hut for weeks, surrounded by the old man’s comforting Force presence. Old Ben was always easy to speak to. The elder man listened to what Qui-Gon had to say, offering advice or commending praise. They could debate endlessly on some topics and their discussions were good-natured and refreshing. The abrupt change to cold dismissal was hard for Qui-Gon to accept.
The Jedi Master felt a soft drum reverberate through the Queen’s starship.
They had landed.
He rose from his seat in the main hold and pulled Anakin to his side. The boy was shaking with excitement. It lightened Qui-Gon’s heart to see the child-like eagerness and wonder on Anakin’s face.
The pair followed the retinue of royal guards off the boarding ramp, following behind the Queen and her handmaidens. Anakin clutched the Jedi Master’s hand tightly, gasping softly as he took in the lush jungles of Naboo.
“I’ve never seen this much green in the whole galaxy,” the boy whispered, mesmerized by the products of the Living Force.
Qui-Gon squeezed the boy’s fingers and released him to chase down Padme. The boy was already calling out to her in sheer excitement.
The Jedi Master watched him go with a small smile.
His gaze drifted off into the distance, toward Naboo’s horizon. It was strange to see only one burning orb in the sky. He had grown so attached to life on Tatooine, working with the moisture vaporators out in the glare of the twin suns. There was no desert breeze to shift his hair and cool his skin from the heat. There was only the hot brush of air filtering from the jungles beyond.
Qui-Gon frowned. He imagined that Ben was moving now around his Tatooinian hut, sipping tea and staring out into the nothingness of his home, caught in the memories of the past. Perhaps he was inspecting the vaporators, stopping to do small repairs on the great machines standing like soldiers in the desert fields. Or perhaps the old man was sitting in the sands behind his house, meditating, shaping the grains of sand around him into living, moving figures.
A light tug on the bond drew Qui-Gon’s thoughts away from Tatooine. Obi-Wan was making his way hesitantly to the Jedi Master’s side. His gray-blue eyes were troubled and pained.
“Jar Jar is on his way to the Gungan City, Master.”
Ah. So they were going to initiate small conversation first.
“Good,” he murmured in reply and again turned his gaze to the Naboo horizon. His vision swam in and out of reality, replacing the large sun in the distance with two smaller ones.
“Do you think the Queen’s idea will work?”
Qui-Gon directed his gaze to his apprentice. He had never realized until now how much Obi-Wan had grown from the small, emotional initiate from years ago to the mature Padawan before him, ready to move on from being tied to such an old master. It twisted his heart to realize he would be Knighting Obi-Wan so soon.
“The Gungans will not be so easily swayed. And we cannot use our powers to help her.” The Jedi Master looked away again. Seeing the gray-blue eyes of his apprentice reminded him so much of Old Ben. The intensity in both their gazes was slightly unsettling. Qui-Gon was still living in the future on Tatooine. It was still a shock to realize he was back in the present. So much had happened in the future’s timeline. He missed the comfort of the old man on the desert planet. Qui-Gon knew he must let go of his attachment to a life that was not his, but for once it was almost impossible to focus on the moment.
“I-I’m sorry about my behavior, Master. It’s not my place to disagree with you about the boy. And I am grateful you think I’m ready to take the trials.”
The Jedi Master turned toward his apprentice, surprised. His Padawan really had grown. Obi-Wan was practically a Knight already. An ache in the Jedi Master’s heart made him realize he had kept his apprentice at his side for far too long. Obi-Wan had been ready for Knighthood for a long time. But attachment had clouded Qui-Gon’s judgment and he had stubbornly refused to let his child go.
No. Not his child. Obi-Wan was a man now, a Knight.
“You’ve been a good apprentice, Obi-Wan,” the Jedi Master murmured quietly through the pain in his heart and his throat and his soul. Now he could see the pure light of his apprentice.
Now, his vision wasn’t swimming with twin suns hanging blindingly over a desert. His gaze was focused on a pair of gray-blue eyes that matched another’s. His gaze was focused on a face that he had deeply respected, a face from the future. The Padawan that stood before him was a silhouette of the powerful man he would become. Ben. And when Qui-Gon’s eyes shifted over Obi-Wan’s hair and face and eyes, he could imagine a weathered, knowledgeable face framed by soft, white hair. Ben. Obi-Wan.
“And you’re a much wiser man than I am,” he continued with a soft chuckle, remembering every moment Ben had scolded him for not listening to the Force, remembering every moment Ben had sat down, taken Qui-Gon’s hand, and offered him words of prudence and praise.
“I foresee you will become a great Jedi Knight.” The Jedi Master frowned slightly, remembering the awful circumstances of the future. The Jedi had been purged from the galaxy and replaced with a tyrannical empire. It was painful to realize that Ben had not gotten the chance to experience a full and complete life as a Jedi Master.
Qui-Gon offered a half smile.
Perhaps Ben was not a Jedi, but he had studied the Force beyond that of any other living Jedi. He was certainly great even without the title. Great, yet…sad.
Living so closely with Old Ben had given Qui-Gon much to observe. As much as the elder man was content in his Force abilities and teachings, he had never truly been…whole. Something terrible had happened in his life. The Jedi Master suspected that the ‘something’ extended far beyond the horrors of the Jedi Purge. Something had broken his Padawan’s heart, shattered his soul beyond repair.
It filled Qui-Gon’s heart with anger and agony both.
The Jedi Master laid a hand gently on his Padawans’ shoulder, vowing to protect his child of light from whatever pain had damaged his older self beyond repair.
The future is not so easily changed, the Force warned him quietly.
And like a dreadful testament to the foreboding words, the planet of Naboo became darker, as if something evil had suddenly staked a claim to it. Qui-Gon was reminded of the desert-adder in his dream, coiled and prepared to deliver a quick, fatal strike.
***
This was the evil that had burned like poison in the Force. It was a whirling, powerful mass that weaved in and out of the dancing sabers belonging to both Jedi. The creature bared its teeth in an animalistic fashion, ire cracking like fire in its glowing yellow eyes. Sith eyes.
The older Jedi master initiated defensive maneuvers against the dark being, keeping part of his attention on his younger charge whose strikes were less refined and accurate. The enemy was highly skilled and trained in the ways of the Force. Worry rumbled just beneath the Jedi’s calm exterior, held at bay by the Light side of the Force.
The creature turned calculated gazes between both Jedi. His own master had taught him how to exploit the weaknesses of others and use those flaws treacherously against his enemies. With every strike and parry against the Light users, his understanding of their character, of their weaknesses, grew. Lashing out with the Dark side of the Force, he could sense a large corridor behind him, and beyond the hall, the generator’s core.
The creature grinned as his plan began to take shape more clearly in his head. Only a little longer. Only a few more moves and distractions. With renewed vigor, he attacked the Jedi furiously.
***
Qui-Gon sank to the ground, struggling to control his heaving chest and even out his breathing. The sith warrior, or whatever it was, was trained extensively in the Force. The being was quick and merciless, raining blow after blow against the Jedi Master and his Padawan. It was becoming more and more difficult for the pair to hold their own against the fight. And the creature, it seemed, was not tiring at all.
Qui-Gon could feel the nervous energy surrounding his Padawan, pacing mildly just outside the first shield blocking the entrance to the corridor. He wanted desperately to call out to his apprentice and remind him to release his anxiety and fear into the Force, but he needed to focus now on remaining calm and open to the will of the Light side of the great power.
He closed his eyes and sank deeply into meditation.
Walk with me, Master Jinn.
That was Ben’s voice calling from the outer reaches of the Force. Qui-Gon followed the echoing voice deeper into the wellspring of the great power.
You were sent for one purpose: to oversee the future.
Come closer and learn the Secret of the Whills.
Images began to shift by him endlessly. They flashed into focus and disappeared with blinding speed, impossible for the human eye to perceive individually. But the Force surged around him, strengthening his gaze, transfiguring his presence as he viewed the scenes before him.
This was the future, Qui-Gon realized with no small amount of surprise.
I am being shown the future.
The pieces were jumbled, a great colorful mess.
The void around him echoed with the sounds of blaster fire and screams and shouts. The images flashed red and blue, over and over again.
There was an army of soldiers in white, marching in perfect tandem up the ramps of large, orbit-deigned ships.
Planets roiled with conflict and death and disaster and despair.
The galaxy was darkening, leeched of light and color by some darkness, some poison from the inside.
Lightsabers glowed in the hazy scenes.
Screams and cries.
And suddenly…betrayal.
Execute Order 66.
Good soldiers follow orders.
The galaxy shifted abruptly and the Force gave a shudder as if in pain. The darkness growing at the galaxy’s center pulsed and exploded outward.
Children wailing, crying out.
There was death.
Death.
Death and screams and silenced screams.
Not even the younglings survived….
The galaxy was being ripped apart, the Force was being shredded. It thrashed wildly about in the throes of the darkness, clinging to something…anything…
Hope.
I will take the boy and watch over him…
I want to learn the ways of the Force and become a Jedi…like my father before me!
It glowed like a fledgling fire wavering under harsh winds. The darkness beat heavily upon it, wanting to extinguish it. Turn it cold. Turn it dark.
Join me…and together we will rule the galaxy!
I’ll NEVER join you!
But the fire seemed to catch and grow and spread. It pierced the darkness and the darkness wailed back in agony, flinched away from the terrible, wonderful heat.
There was mechanical breathing somewhere in the distance, tapering off as if failing. Heavy, struggling gasps.
I won’t leave you Father.
The darkness skittered hesitantly around the fire and reached out a trembling hand.
I want to look upon you with my own eyes.
The fire caught and spread.
I won’t leave you. I can’t, Father. Come with me, please!
The darkness accepted it humbly and burned under the heat and glow. Under the pure light. Under the warmth.
You were right…you were right.
With a sigh, the darkness surrendered to light and knew no more.
Qui-Gon’s eyes snapped open as the final shield opened. The Jedi Master lunged at the dark creature, knowing in the back of his mind what needed to be done.
He struck out with a brightly glowing lightsaber, forcing the Sith warrior to retreat. The creature retaliated, driving hard fast strikes up, down, left, right.
Faster the sabers danced.
In deadly arcs and whirls, parries and strikes.
Qui-Gon watched and knew.
The Force gave a brilliant cry, half in agony, half in triumph.
The glowing blade slid easily into his stomach.
There was a burning, aching pain that jerked mercilessly. The Jedi Master’s eyes widened. Oh how he wanted to arch his back and scream. The Force surged forward to meet the falling body, cradling its child in the depths of its power, protecting the Jedi from further pain.
The bond with his Padawan began to snap, driving spikes of agony through his head and heart.
He knew what had to be done.
He knew what would be done.
He knew the outcome of this suffering, this sorrow, this anguish.
Hope, he thought, desperately trying to send the word along the shattered bond. Forgive me, my own.
Darkness crept into his eyes, blinding him from seeing his child of light, his Padawan fighting brilliantly against the Sith warrior. Pride surged through his heart even as the pain did. He wanted to see. He needed to see his Obi-Wan one final time.
And then there were gentle hands sliding beneath his body, gathering him up against something warm.
Qui-Gon hadn’t realized how cold he was.
He was so cold.
Why was it so cold?
The Jedi Master opened his eyes. When had he closed them?
Obi-Wan. Where was Obi-Wan?
There.
There was his precious light.
Gray-blue eyes. Gray-blue eyes and Tatooine suns.
We will see each other again. I believe that.
I will wait for you Ben, always.
“Obi-Wan…” He whispered, pushing the words painfully from his closed throat.
There was blood in his mouth.
The boy sobbed and pressed the Jedi Master tighter against his body.
Qui-Gon smiled.
Obi-Wan.
Do not fear, my own.
I will be with you. I will always be with you.
He was too weak. Their bond was broken, shattered, painful. He wanted his child of light to hear his words. They were from his heart.
But the bond was too weak.
Too painful.
“Train the boy…” He trailed off, blinking desperately past the darkening spots in his eyes.
Don’t take him away. Force don’t take him away. Can’t see him. Need to see him. Obi-Wan.
Ben.
“Yes, Master,” his Padawan trembled and held him tighter.
No pain. There was no pain anymore.
But the bond. He couldn’t feel the bond.
He couldn’t see. Where were the gray-blue eyes? Why couldn’t he see?
Qui-Gon panicked and reached up to trace the boy’s cheek.
I am here, my own. Always here.
“He is…the Chosen One…” His breathing hitched.
Warmth settled into his bones.
Force, not yet.
“He…will bring balance,” Qui-Gon managed.
Oh, Force. He was dying too quickly. He couldn’t explain.
Hope, my own. You will have hope.
But there was no bond. It was torn away.
Agony.
Where was the bond? Where was his child of light?
Qui-Gon’s fingers were clenched desperately. Warmth flooded through the cold joints.
The Jedi Master could see.
One final time. He could see his child of light.
Obi-Wan, my own, I am with you always.
I love you, always.
Qui-Gon closed his eyes one final time and surrendered to the Force.
***
Ben Kenobi kneeled in the sands behind his hut and plunged his fingers into the ground.
He had felt the great surge in the Force, the call of grief and of triumph.
His heart burned in despair for a boy in another plane of time, in another existence.
There was nothing to be done, though. This was the will of the Force.
Now all that was left was hope.
Ben raised his head and smiled.
There was a new star in the night sky.