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While on the planet of Felucia, after a battle had concluded, a local of the area gifted Obi-Wan with a carving of their native creature the “gelagrub.”
The mature farmer had insisted that Obi-Wan take it back to Coruscant after noticing his undivided fascination with the insect itself. The Jedi Master accepted the gift with gracious appreciation and hadn’t parted with it since.
Now back at his quarters, Obi-Wan inspected the figure’s every crevice. He marveled at the utterly brilliant paint job and extraordinary carving work.
“I couldn’t imagine how long this must have taken them,” he admired under his breath, “to be so identical to the creature itself.”
He turned it over in his hands to reveal vibrant blue spots—identical to the ones that decorated the real insects’ backs.
“I can’t believe it,” he confessed, astonished by the figure’s accuracy.
The drumming of footsteps and chatter from outside his room, likely attributed to friends catching up across the Temple, caught Obi-Wan’s attention.
Perhaps he should locate Anakin and share this beautiful carving with his friend. Surely the ecological masterpiece would be of Anakin’s utmost interest.
Fueled by newfound motivation and blissful excitement to share, Obi-Wan bounded from his seat and hustled out of his quarters in pursuit of his former Padawan.
All the way there, Obi-Wan could hardly draw his eyes off of the gelagrub model, only disengaging to avoid a group of Younglings in a hurry. The item seemed to imprison Obi-Wan’s gaze, along with his thoughts. He couldn’t recall the last time he was quite this entranced by a mere object, since making his own lightsaber as a Youngling.
Even for Obi-Wan to simply see the creatures was a treat, but to own an impeccable model of one for himself was practically a dream. He couldn’t stop the blissful grin that broke out on his face as he drew closer to Anakin’s quarters.
“May I come in, Anakin?” Obi-Wan called to him from outside his quarters.
“Sure thing,” came his response.
The warm gust of air signified the opening of Anakin’s door, and Obi-Wan entered the quarters. He wasted no time with his typical extensive pleasantries, eager to share the gift.
“Anakin, there’s something I want you to see,” he prefaced as he approached the desk where Anakin worked on a droid.
“Mhm?” Anakin detachedly acknowledged.
Obi-Wan fiddled with the carving in his hands, lining it up so that the head of the creature faced Anakin. “When we were on Felucia, a local gifted me with this remarkable carving of the insect ‘gelagrub.’”
When Anakin didn’t reply right away, Obi-Wan glanced from the toy to his former Padawan, raising an eyebrow expectantly.
Anakin’s tongue poked out of the side of the mouth in concentration, and he was drilling a bolt into the corner of a droid.
The silence, minus the stagnant drilling, grew increasingly loud. Obi-Wan shuffled closer. “What do you think about the carving, Anakin? I know you’re pretty handy yourself, you like to create—“
“It’s cool, Master,” came Anakin’s distant recognition. He didn’t look up from the droid.
Obi-Wan blinked. He was not oblivious to Anakin’s indifference. Whether intentionally, or due to his own entrancement with the droid he was tinkering, Anakin paid no mind to Obi-Wan’s figure.
His fingers began to tap against the carving’s shell contemplatively.
It was likely that his former Padawan was simply immersed in his own work. Obi-Wan had been engrossed in many tasks before that caused him to become detached. He felt no hard feelings from Anakin’s dismissal.
Therefore, when Obi-Wan turned and left the quarters with his gelagrub carving in hand and without Anakin’s interest, he felt no heartache.
“It’s cool, Master.”
As Obi-Wan strode rapidly through the Temple to return to his quarters, he gazed hollowly at the elegant floorboards beneath his boots.
“There’s something I want you to see.”
Obi-Wan exchanged an apology with a Padawan and their Master as he brushed past their shoulders.
“Never mind, my young Padawan, try and get some sleep.”
Without warning, all of the air seemed to be stripped from Obi-Wan’s lungs. He hadn’t made it out of the Jedi Temple hall when he gasped for a breath, lowering himself onto the base of a pillar.
“This is a funnel flower, my Padawan. It was a gift I received from a very generous individual on Tatooine, if you recall.”
“It’s nice, Master.”
Obi-Wan recalled resenting the gift from Tatooine, as he had most of what his Master brought from the planet.
“Never mind, my young Padawan, try and get some sleep.”
And Qui-Gon had left.
Obi-Wan did not sleep well that night, as he remembers. All he wanted was to get out of bed and ask his Master about the funnel flower. He never meant to brush him away.
But he stayed in bed. In fact, Obi-Wan never did see Master Qui-Gon’s funnel flower again.
The softest, “I’m sorry, Master,” now slipped through his lips, as delicate and vulnerable as he imagined the petals of Tatooine’s flower to have been.
Guilt gnawed at Obi-Wan’s skin, crawling through his veins. With shaking hands, he set the gelagrub carving at his feet.
Despite being in the Jedi Temple hall, the Force did little to push the walls off of him that seemed to be caving in. He lowered his head into his hands, attempting to stabilize the influx of emotions that consumed him.
His breath quaked as he attempted to gather air.
Through his knees, Obi-Wan stared desolately at the toy on the ground. He felt it foolish now to be wounded that Anakin didn’t grant it his full attention when Obi-Wan, once a horrible Padawan, ignored his own Master out of spite.
“I am so, so sorry, Master.”
He tested a second grounding inhale, daring not to lose any further composure. If he were to slip any lower, he would not allow it to occur in the middle of the Temple hall.
“Master Kenobi, are you alright?”
Honey and cloud drops, the ever-soothing voice of the young Padawan broke through the fog of Obi-Wan’s turmoiled mind.
“Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan greeted, combing disheveled hair back as he lifted his head to meet her gaze. “How thoughtful of you to join me here,” he mused with an abashed smile.
“You look rough,” she declared bluntly, her brow furrowed in concern.
Before Obi-Wan could steal an indignant quip at the remark, Ahsoka sat beside him on the pillar.
“Why are you here, Master Kenobi?”
His eyes fell down from her to the carving on the ground. He batted it with his boot as he shuffled his feet.
“I was returning to my quarters, but stopped here when I…” He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “…dropped my gelagrub model here.”
Ahsoka leaned down, plucked the toy from the ground, and placed it on Obi-Wan’s knee.
“There! I’ve picked it up for you, Master,” she announced with jubilation. “Now why are you here?”
In his incapacitated state, Obi-Wan was nearly taken aback by the Padawan’s wit that matched that of his own.
“Well, now I’m here, because…” He pulled at the sleeves of his robes. “You’ve sat down beside me, Padawan.”
Ahsoka looked thoughtfully into his eyes, willing him to shift his gaze from the toy once more to her.
Once requited, the eye-contact appeared to content her.
“Master Kenobi, is there something on your mind that you need to talk about?” She inquired with sincerity.
Padawan Tano’s intuition and profundity never failed to blow Obi-Wan away. Anakin must have been so proud.
He ceased his fidgeting, releasing his sleeves to hang at his wrists. Obi-Wan hesitated as he contemplated his words, before professing, “Actually, I just came from your Master Anakin’s quarters. Nothing bad happened, I only just—“
Ahsoka interjected. “I heard, Master! He told me he ignored this poor little gelagrub model you wanted him to see.” The girl gently patted the insect’s head, grinning at its little painted face. “I for one think he’s adorable, Master.”
His heart warmed despite himself, an endeared smile creeping onto Obi-Wan’s face. “He’s a neat fellow, isn’t he?” The passion and rigor he previously spoke of the carving with was all but dissolved, but nevertheless, his admiration for it endured.
Ahsoka exchanged a small smile back at Obi-Wan, looking up to meet his eyes again. “Certainly, Master Kenobi.” Her montrals bobbed slightly as she nodded with sincerity. “It’s a wonderful gift.”
Two sets of crystalline eyes stared into the other, and it was clear to Obi-Wan that Ahsoka still harbored earnest concern.
“Do you have anywhere to be, Padawan—“
“You know, my Master is sorry that he brushed you off that way!” Desperation now bled into each word as the string of mediations finally spilled. “He never meant to upset you, and he regrets ignoring your carving, and he does care about your interests, you know,” the young girl rambled helplessly.
A pit had formed in Obi-Wan’s stomach, and the more Padawan Tano justified the previous interaction with Anakin, it seemed to carve deeper. As he sat up from where he was hunched over, he felt his spine, sore as it had become, sink into the pillar behind him. “I’m not upset with Anakin.”
A clicking of the Padawan’s teeth could be heard as her rant was cut off.
Ahsoka twisted her body until she faced Obi-Wan directly. “You are upset though, Master Kenobi.” Her tone was urgent as she gestured towards herself. “I know you are upset because I can feel it. ”
Dismay weighed heavily on Obi-Wan’s body now. He tugged uselessly at the ends of his hair, a habit he never could quite break, and the gelagrub carving on his knee slid off to the ground.
“Ahsoka, please understand that Anakin has not upset me. I only wish—“ His throat tightened then, the voice weak and hardly breaking a whisper. Upon coming to his own sobering realization, melancholy eyes brimmed over with sorrow, regret, and a lifetime of sleepless nights of grief . “I only wish I had listened to my Master more.”
Everything had morphed into a blur, including his vision as the muddled figure of Padawan Tano approached the Jedi until he felt his weary shoulders wrapped into an embrace.
Gracious reassurances ran laps through his head as the young girl spoke promises that she would listen to her Master’s passions and joys.
Later, Ahsoka would help Obi-Wan gather a bouquet of funnel flowers to be delivered to his Master’s grave.
Later, Obi-Wan would send an extra apology through the Force, pleading for anyone to hear him. He begged that if a soul could listen, they wouldn’t push his voice away the way Obi-Wan did to his Master.
Oh, my Master Qui-Gon, I remember you when I watch the funnel flowers grow in your wake—a sign of the prosperity you left behind… if I could only live up to that the same.