Chapter Text
Behind closed eyes, he saw it. A rolling hillside. Soft green blades of grass bowing to the wind. Wildflowers and lilies dotting the landscape, and there on the horizon, a distant storm cloud he knew would soon bring rain to feed the life here in this paradise. For thousands and thousands of generations, from the blue sky to the babbling brook, within every rock and leaf and drop of water, it was there. The Force.
It sang a song as ancient as life itself. And inside Obi-Wan Kenobi, that same song.
Sitting inside the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, a planet whose surface was one large cityscape, Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi could not be further from the verdant grasslands that he envisioned in meditation. Inside the Room of a Thousand Fountains, however, waterfalls and various imported flora recreated the majesty of nature as well as could be expected, creating a sort of greenhouse retreat for the meditative benefit of Jedi Masters and Padawans alike. Certainly, it was a large room, and no expense had been spared in its creation. It had been tended carefully for a thousand generations, allowed to grow and flourish until it was hardly distinguishable from the outdoors, serving the temple’s inhabitants well.
Here, Obi-Wan found solace, if only for a moment. With the onset of a massive galactic war several months ago, nothing had been as peaceful as it should have been. He was finding it harder and harder to meditate within his own chambers, even though he no longer had to worry about his Padawan barging in with some ridiculous request at any given moment. Anakin had grown beyond the need for a Master. With the sudden demand for more Jedi Knights out on the battlefront, he had been knighted just a few months back, to Obi-Wan’s great pride (and anxiety). He had done it, had fulfilled Qui-Gon Jinn’s dying request and trained the boy he had believed in so wholeheartedly. Along the way, he had gained a brother, filling a gap in his life he hadn’t realized was there.
The life of a Jedi could be a very lonely one. It often still was, even surrounded by hundreds of Jedi in the temple on a daily basis. Anakin frequently disappeared off to who-knows-where in the rare moments when they were planetside, leaving his old Master to his business with the Council. When that loneliness began to seep into his heart once again, when he struggled to keep it at bay, Obi-Wan came here, to this serene mindscape of his own imagination, and allowed the twittering birds and rustling bushes to keep him company.
Breathing in one last deep breath, Obi-Wan pulled himself out of meditation, floating back up to the surface level of the Force where the Jedi spent most of their time. As he brought himself to his feet, he realized he didn’t know just how long he had been sitting there, on this rock beside a small waterfall. His joints protested only for a moment before loosening up. Obi-Wan was certainly older than he had been, but the war kept him active and fit, and he was as capable as ever in battle. The Jedi Master unclipped his lightsaber from his belt and thumbed the switch, twirling the bright blue blade a couple times before settling into a training stance.
With the peace brought by the muted sound of thousands of rushing waterfalls, Obi-Wan practiced his katas, moving from one form to the next with ease. With the Force, it was as easy as breathing, his movements coordinated to perfection so that his senses could be in tune with everything around him even as his focus was on the blade in his hands. As he often did, he imagined Anakin there with him, his forms representing the opposite, the counter to those that Obi-Wan displayed. So many hours had been spent training the boy in lightsaber combat, instilling the defensive movements in his very bones, that his Padawan often knew his next move before he did. And on the battlefield? It was as if they were two parts to the same soldier, a lethal force against any enemy that dared to cross the path of Skywalker and Kenobi.
Like all Masters and Padawans, they had a training bond, a connection between their minds that helped them communicate and sense the other’s thoughts. Such a bond was immensely helpful in battle, and it had saved one or both of their necks more than once.
And that bond persisted.
No longer was Anakin Skywalker Obi-Wan’s Padawan, but a bond as deep as theirs was hard to let go of. Even now, when Obi-Wan’s mind should have been empty, enveloped by the Force, his thoughts drifted to his old Padawan and the brotherhood they shared.
The Force hummed with the rightness of it all. Though the Jedi Council warned of such persistent attachments as theirs, the Force seemed to relish in it, and it puzzled Obi-Wan endlessly. So, he shook his head and—like always—elected to ignore this strand of thoughts and refocus himself on the task at hand.
That was, until said Padawan came rushing in, always a great big ball of energy that seemed intent on shattering whatever semblance of peace Obi-Wan was able to construct.
Obi-Wan sighed and clipped his saber back onto his belt, turning to look at his friend (now his equal). “What is it, Anakin?” he spoke in the usual tired monotone he adopted whenever Anakin was up to something. He may try to hide it, but the young man greatly amused him. Even when he drove him crazy, Obi-Wan had to fight to restrain the smirk that constantly pulled at his cheeks.
Leaning against his knees to catch his breath, Anakin huffed out, “I need—your help.”
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.
“My lightsaber—in the archives—restricted section—forgot it.”
Now the Master Jedi rolled his eyes. Such eloquent language from the boy he raised. Good to see that his careful training in the art of diplomacy and negotiation hadn’t gone to waste.
“You were in the restricted section of the archives and left your lightsaber, is that it?” Obi-Wan said, shaking his head at Anakin’s constant proclivity for trouble unlike anything he had ever seen. His old Padawan nodded. “And what would you like me to do about it?”
“Help me get it back?” Anakin said hopefully.
Obi-Wan sighed. “You know perfectly well that I have been temporarily banned from the restricted section because of the last time I let you in there, Anakin.”
The younger Jedi had the presence of mind to look sheepish. “Could we find another way in?”
“Oh, Anakin…” Obi-Wan considered the boy—the man—some more. “Fine, but we’d better make it quick. I’m supposed to be at the Council meeting in 15 minutes. How did you get in in the first place?”
With that, the two set off, leaving the serenity of the Room of a Thousand Fountains for the hustle and bustle of the largest Jedi temple in the galaxy.
-.-.-
“Master Yoda, I simply cannot find him!” Shaak Ti called as she ran inside the Jedi Council chamber. The red Togruta Master looked distinctly put out, looking to Yoda for guidance.
“Obi-Wan?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Off with young Skywalker, he probably is.”
Mace Windu scoffed. “That’s a safe bet.”
“Have you tried the Room of a Thousand Fountains?” Master Plo Koon suggested, “You know how he loves to meditate there.”
“He was seen there earlier, Master Koon, but left with Skywalker about 30 minutes ago.”
Mace Windu and the Grand Master shared a knowing look.
Shaak Ti spoke up again. “We’ve checked all the usual places, even Skywalker’s quarters, but he’s simply not there.”
“Considering that Skywalker and Kenobi it is, suggest you look in the unusual places I do,” the small green Jedi said with a level of amusement that irked some of the other Masters.
Mace Windu was one of those Masters. “I hate to say it, Master Yoda, but I’m just not sure that Obi-Wan is suited for a seat on this Council.” His statement was met with stares of varied intensity.
Obi-Wan Kenobi had been temporarily placed on the Jedi High Council as part of a trial period, a rotation of potential candidates to fill a vacant seat until the Force indicated who it should be. Although he had plenty of valuable insight to offer, too often there were moments like this where they had to be painfully reminded of just how young Obi-Wan still was.
And how attached he remained to his old Padawan, despite the boy’s elevation to the rank of Jedi Knight.
Yoda’s wise voice answered once more. “Qui-Gon’s padawan, he was. Surprised by his antics, we should not be.” A few other Masters nodded.
Adi Gallia also chimed in. “Besides, Kenobi is one of the greatest assets to the Order, even if he is easily distracted by Skywalker.”
“Those distractions could very well be a liability,” the Cerean Master Ki-Adi-Mundi spoke firmly. “You said it yourself, Master Yoda, he was trained by Qui-Gon Jinn, who’s thoughts many of you will remember did not exactly align with our ranks. And now Skywalker? It seems with each generation of learners they are straying further from the Code.”
“I find their hijinks quite amusing,” Master Luminara Unduli said. In Obi-Wan’s defense, it was very easy to get caught up in the charismatic force of nature that was Anakin Skywalker. Just being near him in the heat of battle left one out of focus and questioning every planned battle strategy that had ever been contrived, so easy it seemed for Skywalker to improvise his actions.
Master Yoda tapped his gimer stick on the ground. “Enough. What to do about Obi-Wan, we must decide. Too attached, he is, to his former Padawan. Perhaps split up, they should be.”
At that, a chorus of murmurs echoed through the chamber.
“With all due respect, Master, keeping Skywalker away from Kenobi and vice versa is like trying to keep a wave on the sand,” Master Windu said wearily.
“Like trying to grasp onto a moonbeam!” Depa Billaba analogized.
Master Oppo Rancicis called out above the clamor, “How do you propose we go about this?”
Just then, with only a creak and a thump as warning, two figures came crashing through the ceiling from the vent overhead, landing with a thud in the center of the Council chamber. The eyes of every Jedi Master on the Council blinked down at the two on the floor, Skywalker and Kenobi.
Laughing nervously and shaking the dust from the ceiling from his shaggy hair, Anakin broke the awkward silence. “Oops. This isn’t the archives…”
As if he hadn’t just come tumbling into one of the most high-security rooms in the Temple, Anakin stood and waltzed out of the chamber, not even bothering to acknowledge the Masters who regarded him with a range of reactions.
Obi-Wan, for his part, stood and looked around at his fellow Masters, cringing with embarrassment that painted his cheeks pink. With an apologetic bow, he followed Anakin quickly from the chamber, knowing nothing could be done to save face at the moment. His best hope was to distance himself until the incident could be forgotten. Or at least, he hoped it would be forgotten.
While still within earshot of the Council, Obi-Wan smacked Anakin in the upper arm, saying, “How did you get us that turned around up there?”
“I thought you knew where you were going,” Anakin responded accusingly.
In the uncomfortable silence left behind by the dynamic Skywalker and Kenobi duo, the Masters all shared a look, then sat down to discuss the issue further.
-.-.-
The door to the Jedi Council chamber opened abruptly, halting Obi-Wan’s pacing back and forth in the hallway. “You may go in now, Obi-Wan,” Master Billaba spoke gently, standing aside to allow the younger Jedi entrance. Obi-Wan’s stomach flipped nervously, and suddenly it seemed very difficult to swallow with how dry his mouth had become. Taking a shaky breath, Obi-Wan steadied himself in the Force and stepped inside, as ready as he ever would be to face whatever punishment Yoda saw fit for his stupid mistakes earlier that day.
He stood awkwardly in the center of the chamber for what felt like hours. Yoda simply looked at him with an unreadable expression and said nothing. Unable to stand the silence any longer, Obi-Wan decided a formal apology might be what the small green Grand Master was waiting for. “I’m terribly sorry I missed the meeting, Master, it won’t happen again.”
Yoda’s eyebrows—if he had them—raised, but otherwise no indication was given that he had heard him.
“And about the—the vents… Anakin—he said he needed… well, and since I couldn’t get access to the… uh… It was a stupid idea in the first place, and I shouldn’t have gone along with it…”
Yoda chuckled softly at Obi-Wan’s stammering. For a man known across the galaxy for his silver tongue, he sure did fall apart under any scrutiny from the Jedi Council. At least, when he knew he was in the wrong.
Obi-Wan’s heart was pounding, and he couldn’t believe Yoda was just laughing at him. For all he knew, he was about to be thrown out of the Jedi Order. Surely they wouldn’t do that. But he certainly wasn’t laughing.
“Attached you are to your former Padawan,” Master Yoda stated, staring intently at Obi-Wan, the ghost of a smile still on his face.
A heavy feeling sunk to the pit of Obi-Wan’s stomach. “I—no, Master. I just—”
Yoda stopped him by holding up his three-fingered hand.
“A question, it was not.”
Obi-Wan’s mouth closed tight and he bowed his head. He had to have known that this was coming sooner or later. If he had to guess, a similar scolding was in store for Anakin in the not-too-distant future.
“Difficult it is for some to transition from Master and Padawan to equals,” Yoda spoke.
Obi-Wan jumped in to explain himself, hoping Yoda’s faith in him was not lost. “His knighthood was just so sudden, Master, I am trying—”
“I know, young Kenobi.”
“I meditate daily, I focus on letting go of emotion, just as you and Master Qui-Gon taught me. I—I have nothing but respect for the Code, I do my best to remain steadfast in it…”
Even so, Yoda seemed to see beyond Obi-Wan’s explanations, to see something else entirely. Attachment had long been a struggle of Obi-Wan’s. It left him unbalanced in the Force, and Yoda—as one of the most powerful Force-users in the galaxy—could easily sense it.
But something was different about Obi-Wan’s unbalance. For most who struggled with attachment, the simple release of such connections into the Force would solve the issue, centering the Jedi as they should be to properly serve the Order. When exploring that potential solution through Kenobi’s Force signature, however, the air around him seemed to vibrate uneasily, as if there were something else he was supposed to do. Yoda couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he knew enough about the Force to know to listen when it tried to tell him something.
“Tell me, what lesson have you learned here, Obi-Wan, that most important you consider?”
The question caused the young Master to pause. What did Master Yoda want him to say? Was this some sort of test? If he answered wrong, would he be in more trouble than he already was? Fumbling for a response, he answered, “To find out what is the will of the Force and to do it steadfastly.” This, he knew, was the base teaching of the Jedi, one that was supposed to guide every part of their lives and help them to use their gifts for good.
Yoda seemed pleased, and Kenobi allowed himself to breathe for a moment.
“Obi-Wan,” the Grand Master said carefully, “The will of the Force, it seems to be, that you leave us.”
And now Obi-Wan’s breath left him once again. “What?” It felt like his whole world was crashing down around him. “Leave?! I—I know I missed the meeting today, but I didn’t think I would be expelled from the Order entirely for it!”
Yoda closed his eyes against the onslaught of Obi-Wan’s distress in the Force. “Leave us only for a little while you will, Obi-Wan,” he assured, reaching out to quiet the young Jedi’s concern.
“But—but, what about Anakin? I am needed here! Or in the war? I can’t leave! Where would I go?”
“Your Padawan, Skywalker is no more,” Yoda reminded. “Perhaps a special assignment you need, Master Kenobi, to discover whether your attachments you can overcome.”
A special assignment? Obi-Wan looked like he would try to protest some more, but before he could, Yoda tapped his stick on the ground and held up a hand to stop him once again.
Resigned to his fate, Obi-Wan instead bowed his head and replied, his voice quiet, “Yes, Master. It is the will of the Force.”
As Yoda silently considered him, Obi-Wan’s mind ran wild with questions. Where would he be sent? What would he be doing? Would he be sent to the AgriCorps again? What would happen to his Clone Troopers?
When could he come back?
At last, Yoda spoke again, halting his runaway train of thought. “A class of seven children on Mandalore there is. Need a tutor they do.”
Well, that sentence did nothing to stop the headache that was rapidly approaching.
“On Mandalore?!” Obi-Wan squeaked. “I don’t understand, Mandalore has an excellent school system, why do they require a tutor?” He and Mandalore had a history, one he tried not to think about if at all possible.
“Force sensitives from Mandalore and other neutral worlds, they are,” Yoda explained, “Too old they were to come to the Temple, and gracious Mandalore was to accept them. Allow them to fall into the hands of the Sith, we must not.”
Obi-Wan was at a loss for words. This day had started off perfectly normal, and now he had been thrown for a loop in the worst way possible. “I am not a teacher, Master, I am needed in the fight against the Separatists, alongside Anakin and the others!”
“Done well you have with young Skywalker. A great help you will be to the Mandalorian foundlings.” This praise was high coming from Master Yoda, but it did nothing to calm the disquiet in his heart. “Only rudimentary training will they need. Warrior Jedi, their world does not desire. Only to control their powers, you will teach them. And perhaps the ways of diplomacy,” Yoda finished with a smirk.
Obi-Wan was left well and truly speechless.
“Tell Duchess Satine Kryze to expect you tomorrow, I will,” Yoda resolved, standing from his chair and beginning to hobble to the chamber’s exit.
“The Duchess???” Obi-Wan shrieked, stopping Yoda in his tracks. The little green Jedi hummed in the affirmative.
“Familiar, I believe you are. In her care the foundlings are during their break from the Academy. Struggled, other tutors have, without knowledge of the living Force.”
Yoda again resumed his walk out the door, nodding to Master Billaba who was standing on the other side as they went.
Obi-Wan sank into his seat—or the seat that he’d been temporarily given in the chamber—and fiddled with his beard as he often did when his thoughts were too much to bear inside his own head. This was all so sudden, and part of him wondered if this hadn’t been on the Council’s mind before the incident today had even happened. Emotion after emotion passed over him, despair, fear, resolve, confusion, hope, certainty, and resentment, all of which Obi-Wan allowed to pass into the Force.
There is no emotion, there is peace.
Whatever happened, it was the will of the Force, and Obi-Wan would follow it until he found where he was supposed to be.