Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Have you heard?” J´kar whispered breathlessly from behind his stack of datapads. “Master Kenobi –”

“Hush!” Uuna kicked her Bothan friend under the table, aware that the Chief Librarian, although on the other side of the Archives, heard everything.

J’kar’s brown fur rippled and his eyes slanted in obvious irritation. “Master Nu is not anywhere near us, and anyway, this is important.” But he glanced around furtively, keeping his voice quiet. In spite of herself, Uuna could not stop the curiosity taking hold of her; Master Kenobi was such a legendary Jedi, his feats in the ongoing war numerous. Had he landed himself again in the Halls of Healing? Had he been called away to conduct some secret mission?

“Master Kenobi is seeking a Padawan!” J’kar’s excited voice rose above the approved voice-level of a careful whisper – several heads turned into their direction, making Uuna blush.

“Hush!” She admonished again automatically, but a strange feeling was growing inside of her: part agitated suspense, part desperate hope. “Where did you hear that? Has he seen any Initiates yet? What if it’s just a rumour? Does he have any time for a Padawan, he is hardly here –”

“Breathe Uuna,” J’kar said, grinning. “When has my sources ever been wrong? Apparently, he is already looking, very discreetly. Not wanting to cause a riot, you know.”

Uuna knew. Master Kenobi was everyone’s ideal for a Master. Everyone’s secret dream. He was hers too, although she hardly dared to wish it. With the war continuing and more and more Jedi dying, it seemed to be a miracle to get apprenticed to a Knight or a Master at all, let alone to someone like Obi-Wan Kenobi. But maybe…

“Uuna – this is a secret. Don’t tell anyone.” J’kar looked slightly uncomfortable. “I was not supposed to tell even you, but you’re my best friend. Besides, the less people know…we have an advantage here.”

Uuna was already nodding, promising the keep her lips sealed. She would not tell a soul.

--

They were on a short respite in the Temple after the battle of Felucia, when Anakin first heard the gossip about Obi-Wan seeking another Padawan. He had been in the dining hall with Snips, enjoying a much earned blumfruit muffin, when his Master’s name, inserted in the middle of an otherwise uniform chatter, had caught his attention. Listening at his grumbling Padawan with one ear, and with the other at the group of gossiping Initiates a couple of tables to their left, he managed to get the gist of it:

The revered Master Kenobi had decided to finally take another Padawan, after gallantly gallivanting across the galaxy with the Chosen One, winning battles single-handedly and solving conflicts with one word. Hearts, naturally, were a flutter.

All of which was complete and utter kark. Especially the taking-another-Padawan-part. Obi-Wan didn’t have time to nurse some snot-nosed Initiate, not in the middle of a bloody war. Besides, they were already sort of co-parenting, or co-mastering, a Padawan. Granted, Ahsoka was officially Anakin’s Padawan, but Obi-Wan was an instrumental part of raising Snips into Knighthood. Why on earth would Obi-Wan want another Padawan in the first place? He certainly didn’t need one. No, the whole thing was simply ludicrous.

Luckily, Anakin didn’t have to think about the false chatter for long; soon enough they were out of the Temple and in the middle of the next hair-raising mission, the three of them in perfect sync, him, Obi-Wan, Snips. And so, Anakin happily forgot the ridiculous gossip. Until they came back to the Temple that is, and it seemed that the rumour had grown into a fact. At least if one were to believe an irksome troll.

--

Anakin bumped into Grand Master Yoda on his way to a sparring session with Obi-Wan – or more accurately, Yoda almost ran him over with his blasted hover chair. Only Anakin’s war-honed reflexes saved him from a mortifying collision.

He said his apologies, ready to dash away, but the old Master’s voice arrested him. “Young Skywalker, in great haste are you – something the matter is?”

Anakin groaned silently. Already late, he didn’t want to listen to Yoda’s cryptic chit-chat; Obi-Wan could be a hellish fiend after he had been kept waiting.

“Just going to the training rooms, Master. Obi-Wan is waiting for me,” he explained, hoping that the troll would get the hint. He didn’t.

“Decided you to begin your warm-up already, I see…hmm…running around the Temple.” Yoda sounded stern, but Anakin knew him well enough to detect the glimmer of amusement on his wrinkled green face.

“Apologies again, Master.” Anakin played the penitent – it was always the surest tactic with Yoda.

“Still train with Obi-Wan you do, hmm…”

Anakin frowned. What the old troll was getting at? “He is a great swordsman.” Not the mention my best friend.

“Great teacher he is.” Yoda’s discerning gaze was relentless; it seemed to catch Anakin’s every expression, every thought. He always felt uncomfortably bare in the Grand Master’s presence.

“I won’t argue that.” After all, Obi-Wan had taught him – and one of those lessons had been, never argue with Yoda.

“Teach more he will,” Yoda proclaimed. “Good it is, hmm, guidance, attention the young ones need. Too few Masters there are for so many promising younglings.”

Anakin was left gaping as Yoda suddenly veered away with his hover chair, abruptly ending the conversation. Not really wanting to examine why the confirmation of the rumour shocked him so much, Anakin resumed his rapid strides towards his waiting Master. Instead of the tactics and moves of the coming match, there was an entirely different thing on his mind.

Just who could be worthy enough to become Obi-Wan’s next Padawan?

--

It turned out that he was right about Obi-Wan’s mood: his former Master was absolutely impossible when Anakin finally arrived at their reserved training room. That and Anakin’s own wandering thoughts meant that he trounced Anakin somewhat embarrassingly easily.

“That, my dear former Padawan, is how it is done,” Obi-Wan boasted, shutting down his training saber.

Anakin grimaced and mopped the sweat from his forehead. “Enjoy it while you can old man.”

“I’m in the prime of my life,” Obi-Wan proclaimed, smile evident in his twinkling eyes. Seeing Anakin’s pointed look towards his precious beard, he continued, “And whatever grey I have, it is entirely your doing.”

“So, you’re not keen to repeat the experience?”

“Repeat what? Minding you?” His Master shook his head, the corners of his mouth twitching. “As if that has ever stopped.”

“I’m not that bad.”

Obi-Wan snorted. “I have two words for you my friend: maglev train.”

Anakin grinned. On their last mission, besides the unfortunate maglev train, there had also been a steep precipice, a dozen of B2’s, a swarm of assassin probes and a flame-thrower. Good times.

“Pot and kettle, Master. I learned everything from you.”

“Ha, I doubt that,” Obi-Wan parried. “At least those colourful expressions you like to use most certainly did not come from me.”

“E chu ta?”

“Quite,” his Master said dryly.

“Dinner?”

“Not tonight. I have a meeting with Master Drallig in half an hour.” With that Obi-Wan patted Anakin on the shoulder and exited the training room, leaving Anakin’s thoughts once again churning around the same bothersome topic: Initiates. For Master Drallig, in addition of being the head of the Jedi Temple guard, was also a lightsaber instructor. Was Obi-Wan planning on finding out who among the little blighters was the most promising with a lightsaber?

It was high time Anakin made some inquires of his own.

--

“Snips!” Anakin found his wayward apprentice between a small waterfall and a mossy rock face in the Room of the Thousand Fountains. Startled, Ahsoka dropped the rock she had been levitating, and Anakin felt a small twinge of remorse for interrupting her peaceful meditation. But the matter really couldn’t wait.

“Master, I thought you had other things to do?” Snips’ voice held a healthy amount of suspicion. She knew Anakin liked to spend his time elsewhere – as in outside of the Temple walls.

“Yeah well, something came up.”

“Another mission?” Even Ahsoka didn’t seem to be excited about the prospect of another mission so soon. Not when they had just gotten back from their last one by the skin of their teeth.

“Not exactly. This is more of a…private project.”

Instantly curious, Ahsoka sprang gracefully to her feet. “What? Can I help?”

“That’s why I’m here Snips.” Anakin smiled at her eagerness to please. Had he ever been like that as a Padawan? He doubted it. Although he had ached for Obi-Wan’s approval, he had been too prideful to ever show it. “I need some intel.”

“From me?”

“Yes. There is a rumour that Obi-Wan is going to take a Padawan.” Anakin watched as Ahsoka’s eyes shifted briefly to the side. So, his Padawan had heard the gossip and had not thought to inform him. Interesting. “I need to know what the scuttlebutt among the Initiates and Padawans is.”

“Master…it’s just a rumour,” Ahsoka said tentatively, no doubt hesitant to rat on her friends. Which in any other situation would have been commendable, but in this, there was too much at stake – Anakin’s sanity, Obi-Wan’s very life – to feel such scruples.

“Just another rumour?” Anakin pressed, letting his displeasure show on his face.

“Well…everyone is quite excited about it. Wanting to be Master Kenobi’s Padawan and all.”

Anakin pursed his lips. It was nothing he didn’t already know. He needed details, names. “Any frontrunners?”

“Ah, I’m not…sure?” Ahsoka was still a terrible liar. They would have to work on that – later. “Master, have you asked Obi-Wan?”

Hah, asked Obi-Wan! The man would clam up like a…clam.

“Names, Snips. I want names.”

“There’s a few,” Ahsoka sighed, wisely giving up and listing a dozen names, some that Anakin vaguely recognized. The whole Initiate pool above a certain age would have to be taken into consideration – Obi-Wan loved to be unpredictable – but at least Anakin now had a place to start to make some discreet inquiries.

“Thanks Snips.” He gave Ahsoka a smile and turned to go.

“Skyguy, you didn’t hear this from me!”

“Of course not.” Anakin smirked.

--

“Initiate Yorin,” Anakin greeted as he plopped down on a chair opposite the lanky girl. Startled, the Onderonian half-rose from her seat, splashing some of her muja juice on the table in the process.

“Master Skywalker!” Sierra Yorin exclaimed, turning pink. Yorin had been at the top of Ahsoka’s list. A perusal of the twelve-year-old’s Temple records had revealed she was at the top of her classes – including lightsaber training – and hadn’t been on the receiving end of disciplinary action even once. A high achiever and probably a stickler for rules. Anakin could already tell she was totally unsuitable for Obi-Wan.

“Master Skywalker…oh, can I…can I help you with something?” The Initiate asked anxiously after several moments of silence.

“A fellow Jedi refuses the attention of a medic, although clearly wounded. What do you do?”

“Oh, I don’t…” Yorin swallowed, obviously trying to feverishly determine if the random query was some kind of trick question and what the right answer was. “I…I would advise them to seek sufficient treatment, but I would trust that my fellow Jedi knows their own situation better than I.”

“Hmm, interesting.” Anakin rose as swiftly as he had come, leaving the confused Initiate staring bemusedly at her spilled muja juice, certain that she had somehow, for the first time, flunked a test.

--

Numbers 2 and 3 on the list were equally disappointing. The 2 – a Twi’lek boy – was no doubt accomplished and Anakin appreciated his interest in mechanics, but he was also arrogant and nonchalant, giving flippant answers to Anakin’s very serious questions. A jokester, who would not understand Obi-Wan’s subtle wry humour. The boy would surely drive Anakin's former Master insane within weeks.

Number 3 – a-fourteen-year-old human boy – on the other hand was the Twi’lek’s complete opposite: so sombre and humourless he made Anakin’s skin itch. Of course, the reason for the seriousness might have been that the boy had experienced the front lines already, had in fact lost his first Master in the ongoing war. All of which was lamentable to be sure, but something that automatically put him dead last on Anakin’s list. Getting your Master killed wasn’t really a glowing recommendation of one’s skills.

He tried very patiently to explain that to Padmé, but gave up when his wife’s warning gaze promised a lonely night on the very couch they were currently sitting on.

“Don’t you think Obi-Wan can make his own decision as to who he is going to take as his Padawan – if he actually is taking anyone?” Padmé asked, curling her slender feet more securely under her thighs. As usual, she looked heavenly, all soft curls and enticing curves.

“What Obi-Wan thinks he needs to do, is rarely what is best for him,” Anakin snorted. “A wet behind the ears Padawan is the last thing he needs, it’ll only distract him from the war effort. But if it has been decided – and I bet Master Yoda is behind it – then I’m going to make sure he gets the best one.”

“Rigorous vetting – that’s one way of looking things. But what about you and Ahsoka? You didn’t even know her beforehand, and that turned out well.”

“That’s different,” Anakin muttered.

“How so?” Padmé asked with that irritating sneakiness of a politician. She drained her wineglass, leaving a hint of the moistness of her lips to the rim of the glass. As usual, Anakin wanted badly to kiss her. But at the moment he wanted more badly to tell her she was wrong.

“Snips’ one in a million. There’s no one like her.”

“That’s true,” Padmé conceded with a smile, but stubbornly continued, “However, I’m sure there are many talented and likeable younglings, who would make a great Padawan for Obi-Wan.”

“But that’s not the point!” Anakin huffed, frustrated. “We already have Snips, we don’t need anyone else!”

For a moment, Padmé looked at him with an expression Anakin couldn’t quite decipher, and then she sighed and rose from the couch. “Have you asked Obi-Wan what he thinks about this whole thing?”

“Well…no, not exactly,” Anakin admitted with a shrug.

“I’m going to bed,” Padmé said abruptly, heading for their bedroom. “Are you coming?”

Anakin looked at her lovely face, the promise of her warmth and passion igniting his blood. So he could hardly believe himself, when he answered, “Yes...I’ll just finish reading these records first.”

As his wife left the living room, Anakin lifted the datapad from the table, opening the next record on the list. Initiate Uuna Lux. Thirteen. A native Coruscanti.

Alright Uuna. Let’s see if you have got what it takes.

Chapter Text

After spending most of the night reading tedious Initiate records, and Padmé giving him the cold shoulder the next morning, Anakin was not in the best of moods as he arrived at the Temple. A group of younglings quickly scattered when they saw him coming; Anakin spotted his next targets among them. He followed the Initiates to the Map Room, glad he could kill two birds with one stone.

Uuna Lux and her Bothan friend J’kar Hudorra met Anakin’s apprising gaze with obvious trepidation. The pair fidgeted, clearly wanting to escape, but as they were too Jedi-trained to do so, they politely offered to vacate the room instead.

“No need. In fact, you’re just the persons I wanted to see.” Anakin grinned wolfishly.

“We are?” Hudorra sounded slightly uncertain; he exchanged alarmed looks with his companion.

“Yes, you are,” Anakin confirmed cheerfully. He had decided that a straight approach was the best; after all, he already knew every fact there was to know about them, now it was just the matter of confirming the impressions the exhaustive records had given him.

“How can we help you Master Skywalker?” Initiate Lux asked earnestly.

“I hope you can answer a few questions for me.”

“Of course –”

“Why –”

So, it was as he had thought: Lux was a follower, while Hudorra could challenge his superiors if needed. Both qualities had their disadvantages and advantages, but Obi-Wan needed someone who could question him more than he needed someone who would always follow his lead.

“What is the most important duty of a Padawan?”

“To obey her Master,” Lux answered without any hesitation.

“To learn and question,” Hudorra said, equally certain as his friend.

“Oh? I see.” Anakin stroked his bare chin, like he was deep in thought. “Thank you for your input.” He turned to go.

“Master Skywalker, wait!” Hudorra exclaimed. “What is the answer?” Both teens were looking at Anakin with round eyes, certain he had all the right answers. He decided to take pity on them.

“From my personal experience, a Padawan’s most important duty is to keep their Master alive and well. To accomplish that, you need to both obey and question.”

The Initiates were looking a little confused; Anakin felt as cryptic as Master Yoda. Not able to resist the temptation, he continued, “One more question: Master Kenobi – a great Jedi or the greatest?”

That one they both managed to answer right.

--

A few hours later, Anakin was shovelling Nuna bacon into his mouth with record speed.

“Anakin, slow down. I’m beginning to seriously fear you are going to choke on your meal.” Obi-Wan looked at Anakin with raised eyebrows, his own plate only half empty.

“Can’t, I –” Anakin swallowed his last piece of flatbread. “I promised I would be in…” A glance at the chrono. “– in thirty minutes back in the Temple hangar. One of the Initiate groups has a flying class and I sort of promised their instructor I would come and show them a few tricks.” Not to mention, it was also the perfect opportunity to assess their flying skills. Obi-Wan did not like to fly – one could say he absolutely detested it – so it was crucial his future Padawan had excellent skills in that area.

“They asked you to demonstrate your suicidal flying skills to a group of impressionable younglings?” The incredulous tone of voice told Anakin what Obi-Wan thought of that idea.

“More or less,” Anakin said and took a big gulp of caf. Master Cai hadn’t actually asked him – it was more that he had offered himself to the task, giving her no chance to refuse. Sometimes being the Chosen One had its advantages.

“You?”

“Hey, I’m a great pilot!”

“Perhaps they think you will serve as a great warning example,” Obi-Wan mused.

“My flying skills have saved your sorry hide numerous times,” Anakin pointed out, keeping an eye on the chrono. With his incredible flying skills, the thirty minutes it usually took to fly from Dex’s to the Temple was reduced to twenty – easily.

“Your flying skills have nearly killed me numerous times,” his Master claimed, very unfairly. All of their crashes had been perfectly controlled forced landings, and as for the time Anakin had shot down Obi-Wan’s fighter – well, that had been a very unfortunate accident. “Although I have to say that I’m not quite sure who I pity more – the younglings or you. I’m glad I never had to teach you how to fly.”

Anakin pulled a face. “So am I.”

“Well, thank the Force we were both spared from that.” Obi-Wan grinned. Anakin’s answering grin was only slightly marred by his bulging cheeks, full of Nuna bacon. Obi-Wan chuckled. “Uncivilized heathen. I don’t know where I went wrong raising you,” he said fondly.

Anakin basked in his Master’s good-humoured regard, feeling suddenly indescribably grateful that he had ended up as Obi-Wan Kenobi’s Padawan, and no one else’s. Only Obi-Wan could have guided him into Knighthood. For the first time, Anakin thought that perhaps there was some youngling now – troublesome, alone, gifted – that deserved the same opportunity he had been given over ten years ago.

“Master,” he began hesitantly. He didn’t quite know how to put into words what he wanted to say. “Have you thought about…”

Immediately, Obi-Wan’s focus was back on Anakin, alerted that their cheerful banter had changed into something serious. “Yes?”

Anakin ducked his head, suddenly bashful. “I just think that I…that I was lucky. To get you as my Master, I mean. That’s all.”

“Thank you.” Obi-Wan smiled gently. “I happen to think that I was pretty lucky as well, to get you.”

Warmed to his very bones, Anakin speared the last piece of his meal and shoved it into his mouth.

“Oh, Anakin?” Obi-Wan remarked innocently. “Your flying lesson starts in twenty minutes.”

“Kark!” He swore and promptly choked on a piece of bacon.

--

In the end, Anakin was only a little late – and that had nothing to do with his flying skills, and everything to do with a six-vehicle pile-up and an incompetent emergency crew. As for the lesson itself, it had gone…without any major incident. The younglings had undeniably learned a lot, but Anakin could concede that teaching children to fly was perhaps not really his forte.

Anakin was a great believer in showing how things were done, rather than telling, so he had herded the group of Initiates to a first suitable ship, made sure they were strapped into their seats, and had proceeded to show them how the whole flying thing was really done. Which had resulted in some screams, whimpers and one Rodian puking all over himself and those unfortunate enough to be sitting next to him. The putrid stench had been overwhelming in the confined space, so Anakin had been forced to cut the flight demonstration short.

When they had landed, the younglings had unstrapped themselves and exited the ship with haste, a few of them lurching like drunken pirates. Master Cai, who had reluctantly agreed to wait in the hangar, had looked almost as white-faced as some of the Initiates. Her thin lips and blazing gaze told Anakin he had been effectively blacklisted.

It had not been for nothing though; there was one small slip of a girl, who had been shrieking with joy rather than terror and whose wide grin had taken over her whole face. Clearly a kindred spirit, who could appreciate the need for speed and impossible manoeuvres. Her exhilaration made Anakin smile; he winked at the girl – Liá Shekar – as he left the hangar, deciding to give the little pilot private lessons in the future. That kind of enthusiasm for flying should always be encouraged.

He cast his mind back to the records he had read last night. Initiate Shekar had not been on Ahsoka’s list; according to her teachers she was an average student, hard-working but absent-minded, and had an unfortunate tendency towards daydreaming during history and politics classes. Anakin could relate.

He stopped, deep in thought. Liá would benefit enormously from a Master like Obi-Wan, so maybe…Anakin felt a strange tightness around his heart. Perhaps it would be too cruel to expose Obi-Wan to another speed terror.

Yes, it was clear that Initiate Shekar was not right for his Master after all.

--

A few days later, Anakin plopped himself down on a chair next to his second in command in the Officers’ Club. Rex saluted him by raising his half-full glass and Anakin grinned back. It was an unspoken rule that the rigorous protocols between officers and their subordinates were not adhered to in the one place they all came to relax.

And relaxation was something Anakin definitely needed. His entire week had been nothing but an unending parade of long Initiate records, awkward questions and chasing down potential Padawan candidates. He was sick of it. It gave him a whole new appreciation for Yoda’s sneaky tactic of just shipping Ahsoka to him, no questions asked, no return of the package possible. He had never known from how much tediousness the old troll had saved him from – that is, if one ignored the fact that Anakin hadn’t wanted a Padawan to begin with. But it had all worked out in the end, so…

Anakin and Rex nursed their drinks in companionable silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Anakin was looking at the bottom of his glass, when his Captain eventually asked, “General, any news about when we are shipping out?”

“No, but I imagine it’ll be soon,” Anakin groaned, already dreading the coming parting with Padmé. But at the same time, he was feeling restless, itching to be back in the front lines, fighting, making a difference.

“I hear that we might get some reinforcements.”

Anakin stared at Rex, uncomprehending.

“A new Jedi Padawan for General Kenobi?” Rex elaborated.

“A reinforcement? A liability more likely,” Anakin barked. He should have known that Ahsoka had blabbed to Rex – that or Rex had heard it from Cody, who had heard it from Obi-Wan himself…But the latter was unlikely, for surely his Master would have told Anakin first?

“If they are anything like Commander Tano, then they are a force to be reckoned with.” The corners of Rex’s mouth twitched from amusement. It was the closest thing to laughing Anakin had ever seen the clone Captain get.

“I wish I could tell you who it is,” Anakin sighed. He stared dejectedly at his empty glass. “But Obi-Wan hasn’t said anything. I guess I’ll get to know with everyone else, hopefully before we ship out.”

“General…have you talked with General Kenobi about this?” Rex was watching him intently, a hint of concern in his eyes.

“Well…not exactly.” Or at all really. Suddenly Anakin felt ridiculous; what on earth he was doing moping in the Officers Club, complaining about Obi-Wan to Rex of all people? Rex, although his friend, was still Anakin’s and Obi-Wan’s subordinate.

Anakin shook his head, smiling wryly. “You’re right. I should be talking to Obi-Wan.” He patted his Captain on the shoulder and rose from his chair. “Thanks, Rex.”

“My pleasure, General.”

Determined, Anakin left the club in search of his mulish Master. He was going to get to the bottom of the whole Padawan issue – whatever it took.

--

In the end, the big confrontation Anakin had imagined between himself and Obi-Wan deflated into a slightly mortifying conversation. He had waited for the right moment to bring up the matter when his Master had unexpectedly beaten him to it.

“I hear you have been quite busy. Interviewing – or should I say terrorizing – Initiates. What are you scheming?” Obi-Wan asked, sounding half baffled, half suspicious.

Anakin avoided his Master’s discerning gaze. Now that the opportunity was at hand, it was surprisingly difficult to talk about it frankly. “Who says I can’t just be interested in how the younglings are doing? They are the future after all.”

“Anakin, before this you hardly even looked in their direction. I doubt you knew any of their names.”

“Well, I know now,” Anakin muttered, sullen.

“Yes, and you don’t sound very pleased about that.”

Anakin bristled at his Master’s stern tone and sniped back, “And you don’t sound too pleased about that I have finally made an effort to know them – afraid I’ll corrupt the potential candidates?”

“What on earth are you blathering about?” Obi-Wan frowned.

“Well, you know.”

“Clearly I don’t.”

“You, taking a new Padawan.”

“I am?”

“It’s just that I wanted to help. To make sure that you got the best one. That they are suitable and…well. I just thought I should lend a hand. That’s all,” Anakin tried to explain, knowing he wasn’t doing a very good job of it.

“Let me get this straight,” Obi-Wan said incredulously, his voice as dry as Tatooine. “You have pestered Initiates and traumatized a flying class, because you have been vetting my hypothetical Padawan candidates?”

“Uh, yes?”

Obi-Wan stared at him, clearly lost for words. In other circumstances, Anakin would have taken great pleasure in managing to render his former Master speechless. But now he just felt slightly nauseous.

“I don’t even know where to start,” Obi-Wan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as if to stave off a headache. “Why would you think I’m planning on taking a Padawan?”

“Everyone thinks that,” Anakin was quick to point out. If he had erred, then so had the whole karking Temple. “It’s all they talk about. And Yoda certainly all but confirmed it – said that you would teach again. And you went to see Master Drallig!”

The completely rational explanation did not have the expected result: Obi-Wan was still looking at Anakin bemusedly, as if what his former Padawan was saying made no sense at all. “I promised to teach a few lightsaber classes while we are in the Temple. I talked about that with Yoda – and Master Drallig.”

Anakin winced. That…made sense. “So…I take it that you don’t want a new Padawan?”

“No, Anakin,” his Master said, clearly annoyed. “I am not planning on taking an apprentice.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know?” Anakin asked, defensive.

“Perhaps you should have asked me.”

“Right.” Anakin blushed. Then he forced himself to continue. He had to ask – the whole mess had happened because he hadn’t asked. “Why aren’t you? Taking a Padawan, I mean. The Council would be pleased and…and there are talented, brilliant younglings who deserve it.”

Obi-Wan shook his head, not looking at Anakin. For a moment it seemed his Master would not answer, but then he said, “No – at least not while this war is going on. I can’t worry about anyone else.” I already worry too much about you, Ahsoka, our troops, our friends. Although left unsaid, Anakin heard it regardless.

“I know,” Anakin confessed quietly. “And I worry about you. I can’t help it. That’s why I got a little carried away with the Initiates…I know I shouldn’t have. It’s not my place to decide who you should or shouldn’t choose as your apprentice.”

“No, it’s not,” Obi-Wan said firmly. He turned towards Anakin and there was now a trace of a smile on his face. “But all the same, I promise that if someday I want to take on another nuisance, I will ask for your opinion.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Anakin smiled, relieved. He felt lighter, but curiously at the same time also steadier. “So, when is your class?”

“Why?”

“Oh, I’m definitely coming to watch how Master Kenobi teaches lightsaber techniques to a group of adoring Initiates. I might even cheer from the sidelines.”

“Don’t you dare.”

But Anakin most certainly did dare. And it was just as glorious as he had thought it would be.

--

Meanwhile:

“Have you all heard?!”

“Heard what?”

“Anakin Skywalker is taking a new Padawan!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“I heard that too.”

“But what about Ahsoka?”

“She is being knighted –”

“Already?”

“Don’t be stupid – I heard she requested a new Master –”

“No, he requested that –”

“That makes no sense.”

“I heard Master Skywalker is going to teach two Padawans.”

“Is that even possible?”

“He is the Chosen One.”

“I heard he has already started looking.”

“He talked to Uuna and J’kar.”

“Sierra Yorin too. And he taught that flying class.”

“I heard that Gedo almost puked on top of Master Skywalker.”

“So true – Liá told me all about it.”

“Not a word to anyone but…I kind of heard Master Nu and Master Vók talking…they said that Master Skywalker…hacked into the Initiate records or something.”

“It must be true then!”

“I wish he’d pick me.”

“Me too.”

“Force, he is so handsome.”

“Yeah…”

“I still don’t think any of this makes any sense.”

THE END.