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The first thing that Obi-Wan Kenobi, dignified and exhausted Jedi Knight noticed when he returned to his quarters was that his padawan, Anakin was definitely hiding something.
The boy had sequestered himself in his room and had thrown up a fairly solid mental block against Obi-Wan’s gentle prod. Thus Obi-Wan didn’t deem it necessary to knock when he entered Anakin’s room.
“What are you up to, youngling?” He asked cheerfully. His eyes narrowed as he took in Anakin’s room. It was spotless, the owner reclining on his low bed with a texbook.
“Home work,” Anakin answered casually, switching off the projection. “Was there something you needed, master?” he smiled innocently. Obi-Wan snorted and left without speaking. He should’ve been able to sense Anakin manipulating the text with the Force if that was really all he was doing.
Obi-Wan decided to let it go for the moment, after all he remembered what he was like at fifteen. He decided a long meditation was in order and settled on one of the cushions in the main room. Obi-Wan breathed deeply as he centred himself. He tried to restrict himself from thinking at length about Anakin’s suspicious conduct and achieved some modest success. Obi-Wan inhaled, feeling the nature of the Force resonate around him. He could feel a strange emotion through it. Obi-Wan believed the disturbance was coming from Anakin’s room. He frowned irritably.
A sudden crash and thumping shattered his calm. Obi-Wan’s eyes snapped open and he stood. He was at Anakin’s door in seconds. Obi-Wan activated the opening sequence. The door was exceedingly slow. Obi-Wan encouraged himself to practice patience. He would have to put in a request to have it fixed. The door finally opened all the way and Obi-Wan stepped into Anakin’s small room.
Smashed ceramic was strewn over the floor. His padawan was lying in the middle of the mess. Obi-Wan’s boots crunched the broken pot as he crouched to examine the limp plant at his feet.
“You’ve destroyed your seedling,” he announced with disapproval. “You’ve also interrupted my meditation. What have you been doing in here, Anakin?” Anakin sat up, wincing as he leaned on a shard.
“I was practicing a saber technique, master. I lost my balance. I’m sorry for the noise.”
“Anakin,” it was a warning. Obi-Wan could sense that his apprentice was not being honest.
“Truly master, I am sorry,”
“That’s not what I meant,” Obi-Wan growled, “Clean this up. We will have our evening meal in the common space in ten minutes, followed by a lengthy meditation on the virtues of honesty.”
“Yes master,” Anakin dipped his head respectfully.
The meditation lasted several hours. Obi-Wan worked on remaining calm and patient, but it was difficult when Anakin would not stop fidgeting.
“If you move one more time,” Obi-Wan said with exaggerated calm, “You will be running laps around the entire temple.” He didn’t open his eyes.
“Sorry, master,” Anakin sighed. Obi-Wan inhaled very deeply and his padawan fell silent.
“You’re not in a hurry to get away from me, are you my young learner?” He asked the next time Anakin cleared his throat.
“No, master. I’m just sore,”
“If you would settle down, you wouldn’t be stuck meditating for so long,” Obi-Wan replied tartly and that was the end of that discussion.
They meditated until Anakin fell asleep. Obi-Wan sighed loudly and shook his padawan awake. Anakin blinked groggily.
“You have work to finish,” Obi-Wan reminded him. “Your philosophy assignment for master Aqinos is due tomorrow.” Obi-Wan quickly retreated to his rooms before Anakin woke up enough to argue the merits of an essay discussing droid sentience.
When Obi-Wan left his room the next morning, he was already wearing his travelling cloak. Anakin eyed him suspiciously.
“Where are we going?” He asked, getting up from the table.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Obi-Wan told him. “I have a conference to attend on Vandor-3.”
“Why are you going without me?” Anakin asked, confused.
“I wasn’t sure you were mature enough to display the diplomacy required,” Obi-Wan replied smoothly. “It will give you more time to finish the assignment for master Aqinos, considering you failed to even attend his class this morning.”
“Master, that’s not-,” Obi-Wan held up a hand.
“When I return in two days, I expect you to have caught up with your classwork completely. I also expect this place to be immaculate when I return. Additionally, I don’t want any of your classmates staying here. After yesterday’s clumsiness I don’t trust you around my seedlings either.” Anakin knew when Obi-Wan had had enough. His ire simmered behind the ironclad Force walls he’d thrown up. Obi-Wan serenely tucked his hands into opposite sleeves. “And when I get back, I will have an explanation for all this secrecy. I do not permit lying.” Anakin fought to keep himself from scowling, so that was the real reason Obi-Wan was up in arms. Anakin bowed deeply.
“Yes, master.” Obi-Wan nodded and left. Anakin flopped dramatically onto the couch. At least, he thought with bitter satisfaction, he had manufactured some help for the occasion.
The two days passed quickly for Anakin, who spent nearly every hour engrossed in his studies. He practised lightsaber forms in the quarters, being mindful of Obi-Wan’s plants as he did. Every free hour he had, Anakin spent working on the project he’d been keeping from Obi-Wan. It was a relief when secrecy was no longer necessary and he didn’t have to disguise the mechanical clinking and whirring coming from his room.
When Obi-Wan did return, Anakin was the image of a model padawan. He was meditating silently in the common room. The room was immaculate and nothing had been broken. Obi-Wan noted suspiciously, that Anakin had managed to find and pot a new seedling to replace the one he’d ruined
“There’s fresh tea, master,” Anakin said tranquilly, without opening his eyes.
“Thank you, padawan, but I’m going to retire. Interplanetary travel is exhausting. We will speak in the morning.” Obi-Wan yawned and headed to his room. As soon as Obi-Wan fell into bed, he was asleep. He did not sleep uninterrupted.
Obi-Wan shot awake as something heavy fell painfully on his face. It whirred loudly. Obi-Wan shouted and wrenched it away, using the Force to throw it harder. The thing crunched against the wall just as Anakin poked his head in the door.
“Everything all right, master?” He asked, then seeing the ruined droid, a very soft “oh,” escaped him. Obi-Wan rolled out of bed, bare shoulders reflecting moonlight.
“What was that?” Obi-Wan demanded. He grabbed the droid by one of its four spidery legs.
“A cleaning droid?” offered Anakin meekly.
“The Jedi temple does not employ cleaning droids,” Obi-Wan’s tone made it very clear he was not in the mood to play games.
“It is of my design master. I created it to…” he searched carefully for the right word, “assist with daily living.” Obi-Wan inhaled deeply and covered his face with a hand.
“You’re telling me that you created a droid to do your chores for you?”
Anakin hesitated, “not… exactly,” Obi-Wan glared at him.
“And what was this marvel doing on my face?” He demanded.
“I think it was vacuuming,” Anakin guessed.
“My beard?” Anakin refrained from adding a snippy remark about the cleanliness of said beard. Obi-Wan sensed the comment anyway and tossed the droid at his padawan. Anakin caught the disk and patted it. The machine made a very small clicking noise.
“It’s still alive,” Anakin exclaimed. He hadn’t built it for hardiness and judging by the sizeable dent in the wall, Obi-Wan had thrown it pretty hard. He cradled the droid gently. He looked up when Obi-Wan loudly cleared his throat, arms folded across his chest. “Oh, sorry master, it won’t happen again.” Anakin promised.
“You’re right it won’t because you’re going to dismantle that thing immediately. We’ll discuss your punishment tomorrow.” Obi-Wan shut the door in Anakin’s face, still fuming about the unsaid remark. He was quite sure that he’d never been this much trouble as an apprentice.