Chapter Text
From Obi-Wan’s point of view the trouble all started when Master Gayle Trehana stopped Obi-Wan near the Temple’s science corridor to marvel to him about a recent, and apparently very impressive, performance his padawan had given in a sparring match the other evening.
“To think he’s only eleven and not even raised in the Temple,” she said, the tendrils on her head vibrating slightly with wonder.
“Was this a sanctioned sparring match, do you know?” Obi-Wan questioned, feeling once again that familiar feeling of exasperation and pride that seemed to come with being Anakin Skywalker’s master. After just a couple years of Jedi Training, the boy was growing leaps and bounds in his skills, even rivaling students years older in certain subjects, and especially in combat arts.
Anakin’s enthusiasm for the subject had more than doubled since he’d built his own lightsaber just a few months before. It had been difficult to get the boy to focus on anything but lightsaber training lately, and was beginning to enjoy showing off a little too much, in Obi-Wan’s opinion.
Gayle nodded enthusiastically. “Padawan Zeeva was with them. You know how the junior padawans are. A group of them get together and they badger and cajole any adult they can find into supervising their matches.”
Obi-Wan did know. Not so long ago, he’d been one of those padawans sometimes recruited to lend some facade of legitimacy to impromptu Temple sparring clubs. The unspoken code and tradition of the padawans of the Temple was that if you participated in such events in your own youth, you would not refuse to help keep them going when you came of age.
“I’m impressed he’s studying Ataru already,” Gayle said. “He was a little erratic but his aerials were impressive.”
“He’s not studying Ataru,” Obi-Wan said, fully annoyed now. It wasn’t really her fault, but somehow Gayle’s cheerful demeanor made him all the more bothered by the revelation.
Gayle’s tendrils lay limp and she looked a little startled at the severity of his tone. “Oh.”
They’d been over this, he and Anakin. The boy was to study the first form only. Whether or not his aerials were impressive, not many -if any- students Anakin’s age were given clearance to study or use anything but Shii-Cho until their masters decided they had mastered the foundation. Obi-Wan had not even been given clearance until he was seventeen.
A lot of padawans saw moving beyond the first form as a sort of rite of passage, a confirmation of a higher status in the Order, and Obi-Wan did understand that not being allowed to move forward could chafe. But anyone in the Temple would agree that an eleven year old had no right to insist on moving forward. Most of Anakin’s agemates were still in the creche!
“We haven’t begun working on using aerials in lightsaber combat,” Obi-Wan sighed.
“Well, if that’s the case, you may want to know that he was not using a training ‘saber,” Gayle said. “In case you haven’t given him clearance to use his own.”
Obi-Wan clenched his jaw briefly at that. “Thank you for letting me know. I’ll speak with him.”
He’d been over that with Anakin too. Lightsaber blades needed to be tuned manually to reduce the strength of the blade enough to train with safely, and doing this properly was a skill in itself and took time to learn. Students of Anakin's age were usually required to only use their training ‘sabers for practice, only training with their real weapons when under their masters’ direct supervision. Obi-Wan had made no exception for the boy, and didn’t plan to anytime soon.
Gayle was giving him a sympathetic look now which made him feel embarrassed. He should have known, somehow. Weren’t masters supposed to have a special sense for these things? He wondered what else his apprentice got up to behind his back. What other instructions had he been defying?
“It is a good thing that he feels safe enough here to push boundaries,” Gayle said gently. She was right, but somehow Obi-Wan felt more embarrassed - as if Gayle thought he needed comforting.
“Yes,” he said. “But he will need to learn why those boundaries exist.”
If this continued, someone was going to get hurt, and needlessly. Obi-Wan bid Gayle goodbye and went to find his apprentice.
He met Anakin as he was being released from an afternoon class, and Anakin smiled with unbridled delight upon seeing him. Their paths didn’t usually cross at this time of the day unless they had scheduled time for training, and Anakin had clearly not expected his master to be waiting for him here.
“Master!”
“Anakin-” Obi-Wan began, but the boy continued talking.
“Master Sef was telling us about when there was a dispute between some mining colonies in the Bryx Ring, and a bunch of Zabraks were eaten by these giant worms -”
“You can tell me this unpleasant sounding story later,” Obi-Wan said.
“Okay. But Master Sef said-”
“Anakin, please,” Obi-Wan sighed. Placing his hand on the boy’s back he steered him into a small alcove nearby. “ Later .”
Anakin looked at him, his eyes wide. “What, am I in trouble or something?”
Or something , Obi-Wan thought.
“Someone recently commented on an impressive Ataru performance my padawan gave the other day. I thought that was interesting, considering my padawan doesn’t study Ataru. Or does he?”
“Someone tattled on me?” Anakin cried, aghast, then quickly realized the danger of admitting guilt so openly. “I mean, well, no, I’m not studying Ataru. But everyone else was doing it. I just kind of copied them. And I’m good, Master, they all said so.”
He looked at Obi-Wan hopefully, and Obi-Wan did feel a pang of sympathy for his apprentice. And again, that stubborn little bit of pride. The first year at the Temple had been hard for the boy; everything about the Order, everything that his master had grown up with, strange and daunting to him. He’d put on a brave front, but Obi-Wan knew even at the time how hard it had been for him. Younglings whispered as he passed them in the halls and padawans raised their eyebrows. There had been misunderstandings and altercations with other students; some physical. There had been tears and nightmares and sleepless nights. But they’d gotten through it. And now Anakin was catching up to his peers. Anakin was being included. Perhaps even making friends?
“There’s nothing wrong with Shii-Cho,” Obi-Wan said neutrally.
“But you studied Ataru!” Anakin said, trying another angle.
“Not when I was eleven,” Obi-Wan countered.
“But-”
Obi-Wan shook his head and the boy went quiet. It had taken him a long time to realize that as Anakin’s master he was not, in fact, obligated to get into these drawn out debates with him.
“You must trust me that I know what’s best for you in your training.”
“I do, Master. But-”
Obi-Wan cut him off. “Anakin, if you say ‘but’ one more time..” He trailed off, not really having a threat in mind. He just wanted the boy to stop.
“There’s no reason to rush through your lightsaber training. There are other subjects that need your attention as well, remember. You certainly could have done better on your last Galactic history exam.”
“Yes, Master,” Anakin said quietly.
“One more thing, Padawan,” Obi-Wan said, looking forward to getting this conversation over with. “I remember telling you I wanted you using a training ‘saber unless I was with you.”
“Oh...yeah,” Anakin said. “Well, the other padawans were using their regular lightsabers. I just didn’t want to look like a baby.”
“You have nothing to prove to them,” Obi-Wan said firmly. But he understood. Students of the Temple could be hard on one another at times, and Anakin was particularly sensitive to their criticism. Still, this was no excuse for disobedience, especially in matters of safety. “And you will use your training lightsaber unless I tell you otherwise.”
“Yes, Master,” Anakin said, nearly inaudibly.
Obi-Wan almost laughed at how miserable his apprentice looked and sounded. He wasn’t sure he’d ever met a child in his life that could be as devastated by being told ‘no’ as Anakin.
“Now, shall we go get something to eat?” He asked, guiding the boy out of the alcove into the main hall. He draped his arm casually around Anakin’s shoulder and the boy practically melted against him, wrapping one arm around his waist and squeezing gently. these displays weren’t exactly proper nor were they Jedi-like, especially not in the Temple hallways, and Obi-Wan had surprised himself by inviting it. But there was a brightness in the Force around Anakin now that had not been there a moment ago, and for now he felt no regrets.
Although the rest of the day went smoothly, Obi-Wan found himself having difficulty concentrating during his late evening Soresu class - so much so that he found himself having to take a moment to sit down against the wall of the dojo and refocus himself on two occasions. Sulah had scored a hit to his shoulder early in their match which was burning fiercely even under his tunic layers. Normally this might have distracted him from his ruminations, but this evening it made him think on them all the more.
Perhaps he should have been more stern with Anakin, at least about the lack of training ‘saber. After all, they had talked about it before, and Anakin had agreed to obey. Obi-Wan wanted to trust his apprentice, but sometimes - like now - it just seemed that more and more that Anakin only wanted to appease him on a surface level and did not take his lessons to heart.
“Troubled?” Sulah asked him as the class was breaking up, the fifteen or so Jedi milling about and exchanging news and small talk.
“Oh...no,” Obi-Wan said, rubbing at his shoulder. He would have to put some bacta on it. “Well, nothing much.”
“Padawan problems?” Sulah smiled.
Obi-Wan thought of excusing himself, but he’d been trying to break himself of the habit of running away when Anakin came up as a subject of conversation. He’d isolated himself too much from his fellow Jedi the past several months, not knowing how to explain himself and the strange situation of being the caretaker of a troubled little boy from the Outer Rim, a former slave ostensibly too old to train. But he’d found recently that many in the Temple were sympathetic to his situation, and besides, Sulah was an old friend from his padawan days, and though could be overbearing at times had always been kind.
“Just some willfulness concerning his training.”
“Ah,” Sulah said knowingly. “He’s getting to that age. But he is young and should be easy to mold, still. I was fifteen when I was apprenticed, and I thought I knew everything. Gave my master some headaches. You have at least some time before he starts getting truly obnoxious.” He chuckled to himself, then looked at Obi-Wan as if expecting more details.
“He’s been teaching himself Ataru, despite not being cleared,” Obi-Wan said. “And not using his training ‘saber as I asked him.”
Sulah thoughtfully scratched a pointed ear. “Ah. Thinks he’s a grown up Jedi, does he? Getting too big for his boots.”
“Something like that.”
“I had a couple phases of that sort. I have to say, my master snapped me out of them rather quickly with that strap of his.”
“Corporal punishment? How crude.” Doni Kei had invited herself into the conversation. “Surely there are better ways to teach. Besides, as our wisdom says, ‘the fault of the student is the fault of the master’.”
Sulah folded his arms. “Yes, well. I’m not sure how practical that saying is outside the realm of philosophy.” He looked at Obi-Wan. “Don’t you agree?”
Obi-Wan wasn’t really sure why anyone was asking his opinion on the matter. It hadn’t been so long ago that he’d been a padawan himself!
“There certainly must be a delicate balance,” Obi-Wan said, not wanting to get pulled into the middle of a debate, especially one on the training of padawans. The Jedi of the Temple loved debates, but nothing got feathers ruffled so quickly as differing opinions on how best to correct a wayward apprentice. But Obi-Wan knew that when things got tense, one could never go wrong by bringing up balance . “Both master and padawan have their responsibilities to one another.”
Neither Sulah nor Doni found they could disagree with this, but Obi-Wan could sense they were tensing up for a real argument.
“I must be going,” he told them. “Anakin has a tendency to stay up far too late if I don’t see that he goes to bed on time.”
Doni smiled fondly. “Still such a youngling, he is.”
“Just a kid,” said Sulah. “Kids do silly things. Don’t worry too much about it.”
Obi-Wan supposed he was right. Yet he still had an important duty to teach his padawan proper behavior and enforce what he’d already been taught when he forgot or disregarded those teachings. Sometimes such reminders needed to be uncomfortable, in one way or another. Even Obi-Wan, who’d tried hard to follow the rules, had felt the sharp sting of his master’s disapproval on more than one occasion.
Up til now he hadn’t been terribly harsh with the boy. Anakin had come from a place where the rule of life was roughness and cruelty, and children were not exempt from that reality. The children of the Temple may have been brought up strictly, but with kindness and compassion. They knew what was expected of them, and also that they were cherished. Obi-Wan wished Anakin to know such kindness, and to know that he deserved it. Sooner or later, though, he would also have to understand his responsibilities to his Order.
He found Anakin in his living quarters, sprawled out on the floor with a variety of class materials - books, datapads and sheets of flipsiplast strewn around him.
“Looks like you’ve been hard at work,” Obi-Wan commented as he hung up his robe by the door.
“I finished my homework,” Anakin said, standing and proudly holding out a datapad toward his master. “Will you check it?”
Obi-Wan took the datapad and gave it a cursory glance. Anakin had apparently done several assignments which went on for pages.
“Goodness, you have some demanding teachers this cycle. How much work are they giving you?”
“Well…” Anakin said. “I kind of read ahead and did some extra.”
“I’ll say you did. But why?”
Anakin shrugged. “Because I can. So I figured why not?”
Obi-Wan thought he could see what was happening. Perhaps the boy thought if he could prove himself academically he might be moved forward in other aspects of training as well.
“You don’t have anything to prove, Padawan. Training can’t be rushed.”
“But you said I should focus on things other than lightsaber training.”
“Yes, I did, but I just meant your normal studies. It’s different of course if the work truly interests you. But is that the case here?”
Anakin pouted a bit at that. “Can’t you just check it?”
Obi-Wan sighed and scanned the first page, then handed Anakin back the datapad. “There are several spelling errors on the first page alone. I suggest you correct these before handing it in.”
Anakin frowned down at the screen. “Spelling? Who cares?”
“I think it’s time you went to bed, Anakin. Get your things cleaned up.”
Anakin took a few grudging steps toward the mess on the floor and then turned toward his master again. “I worked hard. I did.”
“I don’t doubt it, little one,” Obi-Wan said, not unsympathetic. Even if not coming from exactly the right place, Anakin’s work ethic was commendable. It only wanted some steering in the right direction.
“I was also working on a way to make my lightsaber more safe for training,” Anakin continued. “You know, easier to adjust the blade. I know I can do it.”
At that, Obi-Wan found himself at last beginning to lose patience. Although any Jedi who built a lightsaber was allowed to maintain and adjust it how they wished, Anakin’s attitude about it bordered on defiant. He should have left it alone.
“Tread carefully, Anakin. Regardless of your adjustments, I’m not changing my mind about what I said. You’re to use your training ‘saber only unless I say otherwise.”
“I know, but it’s not fair-”
“Anakin, no more ‘buts.’ You have already disobeyed me enough lately. Keep it up and I will have to impose consequences, and you will not like them.”
Anakin looked slightly alarmed and regarded his master for a moment. “What consequences? Would you spank me?”
“I might,” Obi-Wan said. He didn’t want to commit to it one way or the other, but Anakin needed to know it was an option.
Anakin dropped his gaze and started moving again toward his class things, packing them up in a tan cloth bag. Obi-Wan watched him, not knowing exactly why he felt so bad now. Was it not normal, and expected, to chasten an uncooperative student, especially one who had been warned already several times? Had he not been fair? As the boy moved past him without comment, Obi-Wan put a hand on his shoulder, for good measure also sending him a wave of fondness through the Force.
“Goodnight, little one. Try and have some patience, and everything will be all right.”
“I will. Goodnight, Master,” Anakin responded. Not exactly happily, but at least he had stopped fighting. And that was comfort enough, for now.
A couple weeks passed without much incident. Anakin’s classes seemed to be going well. He continued to ask Obi-Wan to check his homework every night, but did not do more than the assignments given by his teachers, and his work was even fairly free from spelling errors. Obi-Wan felt a little taken aback by these developments, but all the same, glad that he had seemingly made his point.
“You were on your game tonight. Things going better?” Sulah asked at the end of another Soresu class.
“Yes, things seem to have settled,” Obi-Wan replied.
“Well, don’t worry, I’m sure there’s more than enough excitement in your future.”
“I doubt you’re wrong,” Obi-Wan said. Anakin was not a docile child, and even with training was unlikely to develop into one anytime soon. He had made his peace with that knowledge.
He gathered his things and headed out of the training hall, making his way toward the main Temple corridor. His class was one of the last of the day, and this part of the Temple was quiet and still. Except for…
There was a shout and a laugh which echoed off the walls of one of the small salles nearby. The unmistakable clashing of lightsaber blades, then more shouting - the shouting of boys. Obi-Wan headed toward the noise, curious about who was sparring so boisterously at this hour. Through the Force, he already knew.
Anakin was locked in a fierce battle with a boy Obi-Wan recognized as one of his philosophy students - a fourteen year old called Ladon Churuss. Obi-Wan stood in the doorway of the salle, watching as they hurled themselves about the room, obviously reveling the freedom of having the hall to themselves, free of any supervision. If the boys sensed Obi-Wan watching them, they didn’t let on that they did.
He should have stopped it then, but he found himself fascinated watching his padawan fight. Anakin had obviously been watching the Ataru students for some time, probably even practicing the cadences on his own. His footwork was sloppy, but the Force obviously guided his movements, and his strikes were accurate and fluid. It was only when Anakin leapt over Ladon’s head in a spinning jump that Obi-Wan noticed something was wrong. But then it was too late.
Taking his opponent by surprise, Anakin thrust his blade into Ladon’s shoulder. With a shout of pain and shock, the boy fell backwards onto the hard floor, his own weapon falling from his hand. Obi-Wan rushed forward toward Ladon who sat up, wincing in pain, his hand pressed tightly against his ‘saber wound.
“Let me see,” Obi-Wan said, kneeling down. Ladon removed his hand. A hole had been burned into the boy’s tunics, revealing a nasty wound in Ladon’s shoulder. It was nothing as bad as a wound from a lightsaber blade at full power, but much worse than the minor burns training ‘sabers could give.
Oh, Anakin.
“I’ll take you down to the healers’,” Obi-Wan said, helping the boy to his feet.
An expression of dread briefly crossed Ladon’s face. “No, Master Obi-Wan, I’ll be all right. It’s not so bad.”
“I must insist,” Obi-Wan said. He knew of no padawan who wanted to go to the healers’ after getting hurt doing something they weren’t supposed to. He’d been in that position himself, more than once. Perhaps Ladon too was trying to protect Anakin, who was standing looking from one of them to the other with his mouth hanging open
“I’m sorry, Ladon,” he stammered, for once short on words. “Is it bad? I didn’t mean to. I am sorry.”
“I’m okay,” Ladon said, smiling weakly at Anakin. “Good match.”
Anakin grinned, though the smile dissolved when Obi-Wan looked his way.
“Give me your weapon, Padawan. You’ve lost the right to it for the indefinite future.”
Anakin held his lightsaber hilt out, reluctantly, but knowing he had no other choice. “I’m sorry, I really thought -”
“I don’t really care what you thought,” Obi-Wan snapped. “This kind of thing is why I told you to use your training ‘saber. And neither of you had any business sparring in here unsupervised.” Anakin flushed at the harsh words and Obi-Wan let them sink in for a moment. “Padawan, go to your room and get ready for bed. We’ll discuss this after I’ve dropped Ladon off at the healers’.”
Anakin scurried toward the door on the far side of the salle, leaving a trace of his worry and regret behind him that Obi-Wan could still sense through the Force. But Obi-Wan was too caught up in his own emotions to think much on them. He’d never been so angry with the boy. Irritated yes, but not like this. And he was angry with himself, too. If he’d stepped in when he’d first come across the boys, Ladon wouldn’t have gotten injured.
The architects of the Temple had been thoughtful enough to put the Halls of Healing in close proximity to the training salles, and Obi-Wan’s walk with Ladon was short. It provided enough time, however, for Ladon to beg on Anakin’s behalf.
“I talked him into it, you know. The duel.”
“I’m not sure I believe that. Noble of you to say so, though,” Obi-Wan said.
“I am older though,” Ladon continued, undaunted. “I should be a better influence.”
Obi-Wan smiled, seeing something of himself in the teen. Such an earnest and uncomplicated devotion to honor. The Temple raised them well.
“You’re a good boy,” Obi-Wan told him as they reached the healers’. “But try to show some better sense.”
Ladon agreed that he would and after dropping him off and explaining the situation to the healers, Obi-Wan was on his own again, left to focus solely on what to do with his apprentice.
Doni Kei had been right, he mused, hurrying through the quiet corridors toward the lifts. The fault of the student is the fault of the master.
Surely he could have done something to prevent this. Anakin may have been a willful boy, but he was not a stupid one. He could see sense and reason. If anything, Obi-Wan was beginning to doubt his own ability to teach it. If only he-
“Obi-Wan.”
He stopped suddenly. There was Yoda, sitting alone in this empty hall on a bench against the wall as if he’d been waiting for him to pass by.
“Oh, good evening, Master. I didn’t notice you there.”
Yoda chuckled at that. “Lost in your thoughts, you are. Not in the present moment.” He patted the bench beside him. “Sit.”
Abashed, Obi-Wan did as he was told. Yoda was right. He had lost his focus and had gotten himself as worked up as any junior padawan late for a Council meeting.
“Avoiding me, you have been,” said Yoda. Never one for small talk.
“Well...” Obi-Wan began. He didn’t want to admit it, but in some sense it was true. He hadn’t had an intimate chat with his old master in over a year, since taking Anakin as his padawan. Knowing that Yoda had grave objections about that had filled Obi-Wan with more than a little shame. The struggles that came with being Anakin’s master filled him with more. And he hadn’t felt worthy of bringing those struggles to Yoda.
“Missed our talks, I have,” Yoda said, and there was such kindness in his voice that Obi-Wan for a brief moment felt something like a tear start his eyes.
“As have I, Master,” he said quietly.
“Miss Qui-Gon, do you?” Yoda asked the question, but didn’t wait for Obi-Wan to respond. They both knew the answer. “Alone you are not. Other teachers, you have. Many friends here.”
“Of course, Master.”
“Knows this, your padawan does. Spoke to him, I did.”
Obi-Wan looked at him curiously. “You spoke with him.”
“Mm,” Yoda nodded. “Wishes, he does, to become a Knight as quickly as possible. Asked my advice on how to achieve this.”
Obi-Wan leaned back against the wall. “Not surprising I suppose. I’m sorry he troubled you about that, Master -”
Yoda held up his claw. “No need to apologize. But work with him you must. Strong attachments to his mother, he still has. To become a Jedi he wishes, I fear, in order to be with her. Save her.”
Obi-Wan nodded sadly. He knew this as well as Yoda, though he hadn’t thought about it in some time. Anakin had stopped talking about his mother so often after his first few months in the Temple. But he knew he remained troubled by her absence and her distance. And Obi-Wan had no idea on how to untangle that web of longing that gripped his padawan so tightly.
Yoda went on. “Admires you very much, young Skywalker does. A strong bond you have already, hmm?”
“I suppose so, Master,” Obi-Wan said hesitantly, wondering if Yoda was trying to expose him. He sometimes wondered if he cared for the boy too much, indulged him more than he should have.
“A fine team, you and he will make, one day. Alike you are, more than you think.” Yoda’s statement held a note of finality.
Did Yoda really think so? Obi-Wan tried not to look too pleased. “If he will ever learn to listen to me.”
At that, Yoda was silent.
“He has disobeyed me, Master. He didn’t use his training ‘saber as I asked, and he ended up injuring someone. I fear I haven’t done a very good job impressing the importance of obedience on him.”
Yoda looked at him, a little stern, but more than a little amused. “Then impress it on him now, you must, Master Obi-Wan.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Remember, I do, another youngling who was reckless with his lightsaber.”
Obi-Wan had to smile at that, a bit sheepishly. He’d certainly made his share of bad decisions as a youngling. In some ways, hadn’t been so different from his apprentice. Eager to learn, eager to prove himself. Not always so eager to think things through. He hadn’t been much younger than Anakin the time he’d thrown his own training ‘saber off one of the Temple’s training balconies on a dare, believing he could call it back to his hand. Explaining that to his masters had been one of the more unenjoyable moments of his life (and there had been quite a few). He just hoped his padawan never found out about it.
“Go now. Late, it is. Talk again soon, we will. Agreed?”
Obi-Wan got up, giving his old teacher a slight bow. “Yes, we will. Thank you, Master.”