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Chapter Text

The pyre devoured the broken corpse within its maw. Flame licked at the black suit, melting it away and tasting the twice-burnt flesh beneath it. It left naught but ash in its wake, thick, dark smoke drifting away into the otherwise clear night sky.

It was odd, Anakin mused, to watch his body burn for a second time and feel nothing of it. All he felt was the cool calm of the Force as it swirled around him and the Force signatures of the two ghosts beside him.

His son, Luke, smiled at them. Anakin returned it half-heartedly, grieving not for himself, but for the life his children could've had. Leia came up behind Luke, her cheeks rosy from smiling as she pulled him back to the celebration.

All he'd ever accomplished in his life was a string of betrayals. Until the very end, he had turned on everyone who'd ever meant something to him.

But as he looked upon his children, Padmé's children, smiling and celebrating the New Republic's victory over his very own Empire, he shook those dark thoughts from his head. He'd long thought there was no good left within him, but Luke and Leia's existence proved that wrong.

Anakin stood and watched even as Yoda wandered off, fading away as he went, and as Obi-Wan stirred, his spectral robes rustling. He waited for the other Jedi to leave, eyes firmly locked onto the fire.

"You came back," the old Jedi's voice, so unfamiliar to him now, surprised him.

Anakin could not bring himself to look at his former Master, guilt settling around him like a well-worn cloak. A lump formed in his throat as he remembered their last living meeting. He had spent so long telling himself that slaying Obi-Wan would remove his last tie to the light, freeing him from that ever-present whisper at the back of his mind telling him it wasn't too late. But even felling his one-sided nemesis, nothing had changed. That endless pit within him never filled.

"Nothing I can say will ever make up for all of the suffering I have caused." Anakin said, his heart twisting in his chest. At once, he was no longer the man of forty-five he'd been when he died. Instead, he was the young boy who had once so desperately wanted to make his Master proud. "Nonetheless, I am so, so sorry, Master…"

Obi-Wan placed a hand on Anakin's shoulder, the weight of it so strange against his spectral image. It was cool, just like everything else in the Force. He finally looked to the old Jedi, who looked at him without an ounce of hatred.

"I forgave you long ago, my wayward Padawan." Obi-Wan's eyes crinkled as he smiled wearily. "As have the others."

Anakin looked away. "I don't know that what I have done can be forgiven."

The Jedi removed his hand, tucking it neatly back into his sleeve. "Yet forgiven, you remain."

The former Sith turned his gaze back to the pyre. The last time he and Obi-Wan had watched a pyre together, it had been Qui-Gon Jinn's.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said softly, "what if I told you that there may be a way to make things right?"

Anakin smiled, wan. "Would that I could."

Obi-Wan smirked. A strange chill ran down Anakin's spine, as if a Tendril of the Force's will had reached out and touched him, prompting him onward.

"There are many things, Padawan, that you do not know." The old Jedi stepped away, nodding with his head to signal Anakin to follow. "Come. There is much to discuss."

Anakin cast a glance back to his children. Luke and Leia looked so much like their mother. If there was truly a way to save her, to save everyone, he knew he had to take it. To try.

He turned back to the Jedi.

"Very well." Anakin agreed.

The Force ghosts walked away from the orange glow of the pyre and into the dense forests of Endor. No leaves crunched beneath their slippers, no leaves stirred from their passing. As if they weren't there at all.

"Since my passing, I have spent much time communing with the Force." Obi-Wan explained. Anakin cringed at the mention of that fateful day, when he had killed his former Master. The old Jedi spoke wistfully. "I have spent countless hours turning over every moment in my mind. What was the final straw? When did I go wrong? When was my last, crucial failure? You claimed that I had not killed you, Anakin, but could I have prevented your Fall?"

Anakin grimaced. "I was never your failure, Obi-Wan. I've told you as much more than once."

Obi-Wan shook his head sadly. "Perhaps, perhaps not."

Anakin looked firmly at his boots, the forest floor visible through his transparent blue form.

"We cannot rewrite the past, nor can we erase the consequences of our actions. Not in this timeline, at least."

"Timeline?" Anakin cast an incredulous glance to Obi-Wan.

The old Jedi gestured up at the night sky twinkling at them through the canopy.

"Our timeline is but one of many. They are as numerous as stars in the galaxy. Diverging, coalescing... like threads, spinning together and fraying apart." He turned his wizened gaze back to his former Padawan, a note of finality in his voice. "Our story is written... but I have devised a way to transmit a message to another timeline, like Leia's recording on Artoo."

Anakin's head spun. He stared open-mouthed at Obi-Wan.

"I am not powerful enough to complete this task alone." The Jedi paused for a moment as they came to a stop before a placid lake, its gently rippling surface dancing with stars. "But with your raw power, it may very well be possible."

The former Sith studied the surface of the lake. It always came back down to him, didn't it? His power. He was the Chosen One, after all. A surge of bitterness overtook him.

"Let me guess," Anakin snapped, "through a Force vision, right? Because that worked out so well the first time."

Obi-Wan averted his gaze. Oily guilt replaced the bitterness, and Anakin clenched his fists.

"I am truly sorry, Anakin." Obi-Wan said thickly. "As you said earlier, nothing I can say will right my past wrongs. That ink has dried. But I would like to believe that we have changed for the better, you and I both. You are correct that Force visions could not save us in this timeline, but if we play it just right, they may be able to in another."

Anakin fought the urge to argue, to throw the Jedi's platitudes back in his face. Instead, he sighed, allowing the anger and guilt to ebb away into the eddies of the Force.

"Tell me," Obi-Wan said softly, "what guides you, Anakin?"

"The Force." Anakin replied automatically.

The old Jedi raised an eyebrow as he corrected, "Your heart, my Padawan."

"That's not the way of the Jedi." Anakin retorted. And truly, weren't the Jedi correct in the end? His heart had led him to ruin.

“The way of the Jedi has been lost for many centuries,” Obi-Wan's curled lip belied his true thoughts on the matter.

Anakin watched the reflections on the lake, mulling over the Jedi's claims. Behind them, the dull roar of the celebration had faded until he could hardly hear it over the wind whispering through the trees, casting small ripples across the surface of the lake.

"My greatest regret," Obi-Wan admitted, "will always be how I failed you when you needed me most, Anakin."

Anakin closed his eyes. "I was rotten from the start, Obi-Wan. Planted by Darth Plagueis to decimate the Jedi."

Obi-Wan reared back, confusion plain. "You were not created by the Sith, Anakin. The Force seeded you to return Balance."

The former Sith couldn't help but laugh at the absurd irony. "Well, that certainly went according to plan."

His former Master watched him warily, as one would a cornered animal. Even in death, he simply could not help but feed into his own misery.

Anakin looked back to the stars. "Tell me your plan."

Obi-Wan accepted the olive branch gracefully, as he always did. "If our vision is shared, it's more likely that we will accept it as true."

"Our vision?" Anakin asked.

Was altering their own fates even the right course?

"Surely warning Master Yoda would be more prudent." The green Jedi was centuries old. If they intervened early enough in Yoda’s timeline, he’d be able to prevent Anakin even being born. And wouldn’t that do far more for the galaxy than altering his own timeline?

"You are the Chosen One." Obi-Wan said simply. "And I was the skeptic."

Anakin's mouth twisted. "The Chosen One for the Sith, maybe."

"The Force brought you into being for a reason, Anakin." Obi-Wan snapped, and Anakin recoiled instinctively.

The old Jedi stared back at him with wide eyes, as if shocked at his own outburst, and then exhaled wearily. "Bickering will solve nothing."

"How will this even work?" Anakin asked, cowed.

“We must decide which moment was the beginning.” Obi-Wan gestured to the lake’s surface with his spectral hand. “Where must the timeline deviate?”

The beginning?

Anakin glanced at Obi-Wan, whose gaze remained firmly on the lake. They had been so close, once. Two halves of a whole. When had that gone wrong?

"When we met," Anakin said finally. Obi-Wan's eyes snapped to his own.

“Alright,” Obi-Wan’s voice softened, as if he’d picked up on Anakin’s meaning. He closed his eyes, and reached out for the Force, twisting strands together as he had described earlier. Anakin felt a tug at his mind, his heart, as Obi-Wan quipped, “Let’s start, shall we?”

Chapter Text

Anakin barreled onto the gleaming silver starship, stumbling over his words as well as his feet as he screamed and pointed, incoherently trying to spur the Padawan staring at him incredulously into action to save Qui-Gon. He pointed behind himself insistently, to where Qui-Gon was locked in combat with the cloaked figure that had chased them across the dunes of Tatooine.

Luckily, it seemed that Anakin's blubbering had finally broke through to the young man, who raced into the cockpit, giving the order to take off. The pilot acted at once, steering the ship toward the duel, lowering the ramp as they approached. Anakin's heart raced, thumping in time with his footsteps as he raced toward the belly of the ship. The Padawan was hot on his heels, and Anakin hoped against all hope that the Jedi had survived.

He rounded the corner, a sense of relief washing over him as he saw Qui-Gon sprawled on the floor, exhausted yet in one piece.

"Are you alright?" He asked as he knelt next to the Jedi. He felt lightheaded, blood still rushing in his ears as Qui-Gon sat up, heaving for air.

"I think so," Qui-Gon replied.

"What was it?" The Padawan asked.

Qui-Gon's expression was drawn as he replied. "I'm not sure, but it was well trained in the Jedi arts. My guess is, it was after the Queen."

"What are we gonna do about it?" Anakin was terrified. If that thing had been strong enough to wear out a Jedi Master, he hesitated to think on what it could have done to him had he been alone.

"We should be patient," Qui-Gon said, and then leaned forward. "Anakin Skywalker, meet Obi-Wan Kenobi." He gestured between them, and the Padawan extended a hand for Anakin to shake.

Obi-Wan Kenobi. Why was that name familiar?

Blue eyes met, and as their hands touched, it was as if the floor had fallen from beneath his feet.

The Jedi Master watched his two charges in alarm as they slumped to the ground, eyes rolling back into their heads, while Artoo screamed.

Around them, the Force became near-tangible maelstrom. He had never once felt anything like it. He reached toward his bond with his Padawan.

A terrible feeling settled within him as he realized the bond had gone silent. His gaze turned to his young charge.

"Anakin?" He said uselessly, feeling for the child's pulse. It was there, in fact, his heart seemed fit to burst out of his chest. He lay his fingers on Obi-Wan's neck, and found the same.

The Force sang sweetly, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not break through its winds to reach either of them.

The Force swelled like a wave, crashing over Obi-Wan and plunging him into darkness.

He saw nothing.

The Padawan reached out with the Force, scanning is surroundings, but there was only emptiness.

As if he were adrift in the vacuum between stars.

Panic curled in his chest, and he closed his eyes, releasing it into the Force with a breath.

Searching his mind, he found a small, unfamiliar tether at the edge, barely-there. As he brushed against it, another spike of fear shot through him. How odd.

"Hello?" He called into the nothingness, not particularly expecting a response. The void swallowed his words, leaving not even the barest hint of an echo.

This must be a Force vision, he thought, but of what?

He tried to turn, though it was impossible to tell if he were truly moving or not. The void did not change, it was simply there.

Just within his periphery, a blue glow sprang into being. He spun toward it, heart pounding in his chest. He was too distracted to attempt to purge his rising anxiety.

The glow materialized into a thread, coiling gently toward him.

His eyes narrowed. Feeling it through the Force, there was something about it… something wrong.

He tried to move away from it, but found that he could not.

As the tendril slowly reached out to touch him, its cool embrace washed over him like a stream of water. A burst of Force energy bled out of it into him, and with it came a barrage of emotions not his own.

A chasm of guilt opened in his chest. In its depths, a soul-crushing grief devoured everything around it like a black hole.

"I have failed you, Anakin. I have failed you."

Obi-Wan froze as he recognized the disembodied voice that now echoed in his mind.

"You were the Chosen One! It was said that you would destroy the Sith, not join them! Bring balance to the Force, not leave it in darkness!"

His own voice, ragged and broken, shouted. That black hole in his chest grew as a terrible realization dawned on him. Anakin Fell? The boy? He knew Qui-Gon believed in prophecy, and that Anakin's midi-chlorian count was the highest ever recorded. His Master's intent was to see the boy trained as a Jedi, but if he were doomed to Fall…?

"You were my brother, Anakin." Terrible, unknowable pain tore through him. "I loved you."

The words washed over him. What?

He attempted to shake the tendril free. Perhaps if he managed to dislodge it, the voices, the endless onslaught of pain and suffering and guilt would end.

Yet as he shook his arm, the tendril only tightened.

"I am not your failure, Obi-Wan." This second voice was new, a painful wheeze present between the syllables. Unfamiliar as it was, it still twisted his heart into knots.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to find his center, to release these horrible feelings into the Force.

But there… A single, gently flickering flame, bright as a star, danced at the edge of the event horizon. It twinkled at him, stubbornly refusing to disappear into the maw of grief and guilt.

As he inspected it, its warmth radiated through him.

"You are strong and wise, Anakin, and I am very proud of you." His disembodied voice said warmly. A sharp departure from the shame and grief, yet… Jedi were not supposed to show such attachment. "I have trained you since you were a small boy. I have taught you everything I know. And you have become a far greater Jedi than I could ever hope to be."

He swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat as the flame grew into a tiny sun, orbiting the black hole.

Its golden-red glow sang a dirge so sweetly, radiating hope and love despite its desolate surroundings.

Seemingly satisfied, the thread released him.

His mind quieted, the black hole and tiny sun not gone, but subdued.

He opened his eyes, and the light returned.

Anakin jolted upright, a thick, oppressive fog shrouding his surroundings. Screams and explosions echoed in the distance, but no matter how hard he looked, whether he squinted his eyes or opened them as wide as they would go, he saw nothing.

Fear crawled up the back of his neck like a spider.

Something whizzed past his ear, flying off far into the distance. He whirled, trying to locate the source of the object, but still, nothing revealed itself to him.

"Hello?" He called, trembling as he took a half-step forward. His voice echoed, but it was quickly drowned by the din. The sound of armored footsteps grew closer, and Anakin spun once more, desperately trying to orient himself.

The sound of footsteps began to fade, and he tried to chase after them. The screaming grew louder too, but still, nothing. It was all nothing.

He stopped, crouching and burying his face in his knees, cradling his head with his arms to try and block out the sounds that surrounded him.

A thin blue tendril sprang into view, its cool, calming touch soothing him. As the tendril wrapped around him, the sounds began to fade, and the fog began to dissipate. Instead of fog, there was simply a dark void, like empty space.

But then, the soothing calm turned constricting, and panic welled in his chest and he struggled to break free. Just as he thought it was too late, the thread snapped. He fell to the ground hard, wheezing as the air was knocked out of him.

Muffled voices returned, just barely unintelligible. They sounded as if they were arguing. Anakin pushed himself to his knees, tears welling in his eyes. He just wanted to go home.

He squeezed his eyes shut as a storm of emotions roiled around him. The last thing he had seen before being taken to this strange place was the Padawan.

Obi-Wan Kenobi. Stars, that name was familiar. Why? Who was Obi-Wan?

The voices grew louder, yet still Anakin could not understand. Hot tears slipped from his eyes, rolling down his cheeks. He clenched his fists, squeezing his fingernails into his palms.

Suddenly, one voice broke through as the tendril returned, circling around his ankle. This time, it was warm like the Tatooine sun, and the male voice sounded like his mother's did when she bragged about his skill.

"You are strong and wise, Anakin, and I am very proud of you. I have trained you since you were a small boy. I have taught you everything I know. And you have become a far greater Jedi than I could ever hope to be."

The words echoed in his head. It sounded oddly familiar. A flame of hope burned in his chest as they sank in. Not only had he become a Jedi, but he'd been a great one.

But, why wasn't it Qui-Gon's voice saying those things? Qui-Gon had said he was going to train him. Had something happened?

The flame flickered out, and the dark embrace of fear returned.

The same voice now screamed at him. "You were the Chosen One! It was said that you would destroy the Sith, not join them! Bring balance to the Force, not leave it in darkness!"

The anger and pain in those words scared him terribly. He joined the Sith? No, that wasn't true. He was going to be a Jedi! He'd promised his mother!

A crushing guilt overwhelmed him. He hadn't meant for it to end like this.

He shook his head, confused.

"You were my brother, Anakin." The voice broke, and he felt that same twinge of grief in his own heart. "I loved you."

A sob ripped its way out from his throat, echoing in the void as shame burned hot in his cheeks.

He cried, overwhelmed by these foreign emotions.

"I'm sorry, Master," he wailed pitifully, words not his own, "I'm sorry…"

"I have failed you, Anakin." The voice seemed to reply. "I have failed you."

His stomach twisted. No, that wasn't true. It was his fault.

A different, darker voice retorted in his stead. "I am not your failure, Obi-Wan." It sounded like a rebuke, but beneath the harsh words, there was something… else. Like it was supposed to be a gift.

A chill ran up Anakin's spine as the thread finally released him and he opened his eyes, back on the ship once more, Obi-Wan's name echoing in his mind.

The Force storm relented suddenly, leaving a vacuum in its wake. Qui-Gon breathed sharply in relief as both Anakin and Obi-Wan gasped back into consciousness.

"What happened?" He demanded, looking to his Padawan.

But neither of them answered. Instead, Obi-Wan turned to the child, an unreadable expression on his face.

Anakin trembled like a leaf, his face ashen.

The vacuum left by the Force storm was quickly replaced by the swirling nexus of Anakin's uncontrolled emotions.

Qui-Gon nearly staggered at the weight of the fear and guilt radiating off the boy.

In the space between thoughts, as he took in this wave of dark emotion and began to open his mouth to speak, Obi-Wan moved.

He pulled the child into his arms.

Qui-Gon's mouth remained open, speechless.

"Anakin," the Padawan gasped. Anakin buried his face in Obi-Wan's tunic, harsh gasps bursting from his throat.

The Jedi Master stared. He wondered, briefly, if he'd somehow fallen into an alternate universe. What could Obi-Wan have seen to prompt such uncharacteristic… whatever was going on?

"It's not your fault," Obi-Wan's words only served to perplex Qui-Gon further, but sent Anakin into a tearful frenzy.

"No!" The boy pushed his way out of Obi-Wan's arms, face streaked with tears. "It is, Master! It's all my fault!"

Qui-Gon's eyebrows rose. Anakin was calling Obi-Wan his Master?

Obi-Wan's face contorted, recoiling from the boy as if struck. He opened his mouth to reply, but Anakin cut him off.

"I ruined everything!" The boy insisted. His next words drove an icy wedge into Qui-Gon's heart. "You said I joined the Sith!"

"What?" Qui-Gon's head spun as the word sprouted from his lips. "Anakin, where did you hear that?"

Everything came to a standstill.

"Anakin…" Obi-Wan trailed off, hands outstretched. Anakin turned from him, wrapping his arms tightly around himself.

"You never even wanted me," Anakin's face pinched, shoulders quaking.

A flare of pain through his bond with his Padawan stopped Qui-Gon in his tracks.

Obi-Wan stood, face pallid, and reached for the boy. Anakin allowed it, and Obi-Wan pulled him close, tucking the child's head firmly into his chest.

"Visions are not infallible," Obi-Wan said lamely, "and that's not true, Anakin, I…"

Anakin shook his head, despair and shame whirling around him like a sandstorm.

"Ani," Qui-Gon took advantage of his Padawan's silence, "tell me what you saw."

Instead, Obi-Wan replied.

"I believe," the Padawan said, his words heavy with exhaustion, "that we would all benefit from some time to process what we have seen, first."

Qui-Gon bit back his disappointment. His responsible Padawan had returned.

Obi-Wan was right, regardless. It was no use, with Anakin so overwhelmed, to prod and needle him any further. He released his frustration, his impatience into the Force, resolving to speak with his Padawan privately later.

"Quite so, Padawan," the Jedi knelt before Anakin as he spoke, laying a hand on the boy's back, who remained in Obi-Wan's protective grasp. "Anakin, if there's anything you need, please ask."

The boy nodded wordlessly. Qui-Gon turned to his Padawan, who seemed reluctant to release him.

Odd.

He reached through their bond, assessing. It was quite unlike Obi-Wan to be so… attached.

A buzz from Obi-Wan's commlink broke the awkward silence.

"Yes?"

Ric Olié's voice crackled through the device. "Is Master Jinn alright? We gotta get going."

Obi-Wan glanced hesitantly at his Master.

"I'm fine. Prep the hyperdrive, I'll be up shortly." Qui-Gon spoke into the commlink.

"Already done." Ric said, and the comm fell silent.

Chapter Text

Long after Qui-Gon had left, Obi-Wan lingered.

Anakin had slumped to the floor, exhausted, and Obi-Wan had followed shortly after. They sat together, backs against the cool walls of the ship's bay.

"I'm sorry," Anakin said, barely audible over the hum of electronics.

Obi-Wan's heart twisted. "It's alright."

He didn't know what else to say, to do. He wanted to flee, to hide away in his rooms. He wanted to steep himself in the Force and meditate until the world made sense again.

He could only assume whatever Anakin had seen rocked him just as thoroughly. He tilted his head, his Padawan braid sliding down his shoulder as he peered at the boy's crumpled posture.

"Are you okay?" he asked. It was a silly question, he knew, but it was worth a try.

Anakin looked at him for a long moment, his blue eyes stormy. "It's cold," the boy said eventually, hugging himself tighter.

Obi-Wan winced, sliding off his outer robe and draping it around Anakin's shoulders. Of course he was cold. He should have realized, the boy was from a kriffing desert planet.

The Padawan had long grown used to the chill of space, but this was Anakin's first time away from his home, let alone from his planet.

Anakin tugged the robe tightly around himself, letting his guard down just a bit. "Thanks."

"Of course," the Padawan replied. He felt out of place.

All of his years of training, learning the Code better than the back of his hand, yet here he sat. His chest tightened.

He desperately needed to consult his Master, but he was loathe to leave Anakin alone.

For the boy's sake, or his own, he was unsure.

Then there was the small matter of the bond that had come to life between them.

He tested it gently. Like that little star inside his heart, their bond was bright and warm despite both the ramifications of their visions. It unsettled him.

Anakin had Fallen. Joined the Sith.

The boy beside him sat, curled in on himself, burying himself in Obi-Wan's robe. His Force signature was a roaring blaze of light and good and love.

But was love enough?

He'd been proud of Anakin. Loved him to the point of unabashed attachment. And failed him nonetheless.

Failure.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the wall. He'd been wondering as of late, why his Master had not yet submitted him for his Trials. When pressed, Qui-Gon said it was simply not the right time, or made some excuse about trusting in the Force.

He tried so hard to be the perfect Padawan. Perhaps it was simply his nature, to let others down. To not be enough.

He startled as Anakin lay a hand on him.

"What?" He was sure he hadn't said anything aloud. Their bond was still new, perhaps he'd let something slip?

Anakin's eyes peered into his own, a too-wise look on his young face.

The boy seemed to struggle to find the words he was looking for, opening and closing his mouth several times before finally speaking. "You… you're good, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to look away, to hide. "I'm trying."

Anakin pulled Obi-Wan's robe more tightly around himself.

"I promised my Mom I would be a Jedi," Anakin's lip quivered. "I don't want to make her sad."

The Padawan hesitated. Anakin hadn't been raised in the temple. It was only natural he'd miss the only person he'd ever known who cared for him. But the Council would look down on his attachment to his previous life.

And could Obi-Wan really judge him for it, with the attachment he now held for this near-stranger?

What would Qui-Gon say?

He tapped his bond with his Master, but Qui-Gon did not reply, too deep in meditation.

He was on his own, then.

"These are natural feelings, Anakin," he settled on, wracking his brain to try and remember his time in the creche. Had he missed his mother, when he was first brought to the Temple? Surely, he had. "Do you wish to talk about it?"

Anakin shrugged. He looked away, resting his cheek on his knees.

Obi-Wan frowned. Unbidden, frustration welled.

The boy stiffened, and Obi-Wan belatedly closed off his end of their bond, guilt replacing the frustration.

"My vision," Obi-Wan changed tactics, "was very confusing. I'm still struggling to make sense of it all."

Anakin did not turn back to him, but it was clear he was listening.

Obi-Wan continued. "It made me feel scared and guilty."

At this, the boy looked at him, almost like he was surprised. "Scared?"

The Padawan nodded. "I've had visions before, and this was like no other I've had before. It was very scary. I didn't know where I was, or what I was hearing."

Anakin shuffled his feet, turning slightly toward Obi-Wan.

"I was scared, too," Anakin admitted conspiratorially. "But…"

The boy paused, and embarrassment radiated through their bond. "I think… you said you were proud of me. That made me happy."

A bittersweet ache swelled within him. "What else did I say in your vision, Anakin?"

"Um," the boy squinted, as if trying to recall. But through their fledgling bond, Obi-Wan could tell he was deliberately stalling, uncomfortable. Just as he was about to tell him that it was okay, they didn't have to talk about it, Anakin spoke. "You said I was strong and wise, and you were proud of me, and you trained me and I was a really great Jedi."

That… was exactly what he'd heard as well.

"You also… You said I was the Chosen One. And that I joined the Sith and made the Force dark," Anakin hesitated. "And that you… failed me. But you didn't!"

Obi-Wan swallowed his horror. Their visions seemed to be almost exactly the same. That did not bode well.

"The future is not written in stone," Obi-Wan said slowly, desperately trying to project tranquility, "but I promise you, Anakin, I will do everything in my power to ensure that you become a Jedi."

Anakin looked at him, hope swelling through the Force. "Really?"

"Yeah," Obi-Wan replied, "really."

Qui-Gon waited patiently in his room for Obi-Wan to seek him out.

He turned that moment over in his mind again and again, trying to identify any signs he missed, any warning.

But there was nothing.

One moment, he was introducing them. The next, they were both in the throes of a vision. A shared vision, apparently.

A knock on his door brought him out of his musing. It slid open to reveal his Padawan.

"Master," the man said softly, "can we talk?"

Qui-Gon moved aside, allowing Obi-Wan to enter his room. "Of course, Padawan."

Obi-Wan's usually clear and polished Force signature was a roiling storm of doubt, guilt, and strangely, grief. He walked into the room with his usual straight-backed posture, but there was something about the way he held himself that seemed… fragile.

"Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon prompted.

Obi-Wan's face was drawn. "I don't know what to do about Anakin."

"What about him?" the Jedi Master frowned.

His Padawan clenched his jaw, averting his gaze. "I saw nothing, at first…" he paused, collecting his thoughts.

Qui-Gon had been waiting for his apprentice to share the details of his vision, and he was not about to interrupt.

"A blue thread manifested, which I believe was the Force itself… it touched me, and I began to hear my own voice," Obi-Wan explained. "It was all about Anakin."

"He said you claimed he joined the Sith," Qui-Gon said, nearly spitting the last word.

Obi-Wan paled. "Yes. I did hear that, too."

But, there was something the younger man was leaving unsaid. Normally, Qui-Gon would allow him his privacy, but for a matter of such import as this? With the very fate of the Chosen One hanging in the balance?

"What else was there, Padawan?"

"I failed him," he nearly whispered in reply. "I trained him, raised him, loved him. And it was not enough."

Qui-Gon's brows furrowed as he remembered Anakin's slip earlier that day, which had gone uncommented on. And the way his Padawan spat the word love, as if it burned him, gave him pause.

As he opened his mouth to ask, Obi-Wan continued.

"But still," he said softly, almost fondly, "no matter how deep my guilt, my grief, my shame… that cursed attachment never died."

Qui-Gon studied his apprentice closely. He had not the arrogance, the rigid by-the-letter rule mongering, nor the holier-than-thou attitude he so often adopted in an attempt to emulate the Council.

It was Obi-Wan's strict adherence to the Jedi Code without exception that pulled his readiness into question for the Jedi Master. However, many of his own peers were just the same. And while Qui-Gon perhaps did not agree with that philosophy, it was ultimately up to his apprentice to determine his own beliefs. No amount of training could change that.

Still, perhaps this vision had taught him that final lesson.

"How does this relate to the boy?" Qui-Gon asked.

Obi-Wan's signature wavered, flickering like a flame. "I believe that it is the will of the Force for me to train Anakin," he said, his discomfort clear. "But…"

"You have doubts," Qui-Gon finished his sentence.

Obi-Wan simply nodded.

"It was my intent to submit you for your Trials upon returning to the Temple," Qui-Gon explained, "and submit Anakin for Testing to eventually take him as my Padawan."

Obi-Wan turned to him, eyebrows furrowed. "I don't…"

Qui-Gon waited, allowing his Padawan to gather his thoughts.

"Why now?"

"Pardon?"

Obi-Wan was stricken as he elaborated. "Why haven't you submitted me for my Trials yet?"

A pang of regret struck him. Yes, he knew this would catch up with him eventually. He sat next to Obi-Wan, gently placing a hand on the younger man's back and gathering his thoughts. How should he explain?

But at his slight hesitation, Obi-Wan spoke once more. "What… what's wrong with me?"

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon frowned. It was not like his Padawan to be so insecure. "There is nothing wrong with you. It just hasn't felt like the right time."

"Was it ever going to be?" Obi-Wan retorted, his shame and frustration leaking through the bond.

Qui-Gon sighed.

"Padawan," Qui-Gon turned to his apprentice, who looked at him with caution. "Your lack of Knighthood is a failing on my part—not yours."

He paused.

"You have more to learn, still," Qui-Gon watched his Padawan flinch, but pressed on. "But, the things you have yet to learn are things I cannot teach."

Left to his own devices, Anakin wandered. He kicked his feet in front of himself with each step, falling forward until he caught himself. He'd grown bored of staring out the viewport, and he got kicked out of the cockpit so Ric could "rest his ears."

Every time he closed his eyes for too long, he saw that fog again.

He'd had dreams before that had ended up coming true, but he'd never seen anything when he was awake… The fact that Obi-Wan, who he was sure he'd never met before, had been in his vision and had seen the same thing sent that fear spider-crawling down his neck again.

It was all too much. And he had no idea if he'd ever see his mom or his friends again. He wanted nothing more than to curl up in his mom's arms, to hear her say it would all be okay. She would tell him he was very strong and brave, and that he would be a good Jedi.

Just like Obi-Wan had, in the vision.

He looked firmly at his feet, willing himself not to cry.

It wasn't fair. He was supposed to start this big adventure and become a hero. The vision ruined everything. He ruined everything.

Shaking his head, he sighed. Nothing made sense, anymore.

As he marched aimlessly down the hall, muffled voices caught his attention.

Peeking around the corner, he saw Jar Jar fast asleep at a table, and Padmé staring at a holo recording.

Her bright orange and red robes reminded him of fire, but the aura of sadness and anxiety hung around her like a dark cloud. Anakin wondered why she was so upset.

"Padmé?" he said softly, trying not to rouse Jar Jar.

Padmé turned, her brown eyes wide from surprise. Once she caught sight of him, her expression melted into a sweet smile. Just like it had when he saw her in Watto's junk shop, his heart skipped a beat.

"Ani," she whispered back, gliding to the door to meet him. She studied him for a moment, before asking, "Are you alright?"

Anakin shrugged. "I think so. Something… weird happened earlier, and it's really cold," he paused, giving her a reassuring grin, "but I feel better now."

He stuck out his arms, showing off the oversized Jedi robe Obi-Wan had lent him. "Obi-Wan gave me his robe."

"That was very kind of him," Padmé nodded sagely. "Space is very cold, especially for someone from such a warm planet."

He shrugged again. "Yeah, I guess so."

"What happened earlier?" Padmé asked. For a moment, Anakin wondered if he should tell her, after all, the Force was a Jedi thing, but her pleasant smile and imploring eyes convinced him quickly.

"When Qui-Gon introduced me and Obi-Wan, we both saw a vision," he said. Her eyebrows rose, and he hurried to explain, "Well, we didn't really see anything, but… it was weird. I felt really scared and sad about it."

"That must be really difficult," Padmé said slowly, and Anakin shrugged for a third time. It felt like that was all he could really do, the situation was so bizarre.

"Obi-Wan told me even Jedi get scared and sad," Anakin told her, letting her in on the big secret. "But, why are you sad?"

Padmé's eyes narrowed just so, her smile faltering. "The Queen is facing a very difficult problem. Her people are suffering, but she cannot do anything without the Senate's help… If they don't agree to intervene, I'm not sure what will happen."

Anakin frowned. "Why wouldn't they want to help?"

Padmé smiled again, but her eyes were still so sad. "There are Senators who are allied with the Trade Federation, and while that doesn't mean the Senate as a whole will refuse to help, it may be more complicated."

That sounded stupid. "Why?"

Padmé sighed. "Politics always are."

Silence reigned for a moment, before Anakin remembered the necklace he'd been planning on giving her. He dug through his pockets before proudly producing it and offering it to her. "Here, I made this for you. To remember me by, and to bring you luck with the Senate stuff."

Padmé took it from him gingerly, running her fingers over the small pendant, her eyes wide. "It's beautiful, Ani…" She trailed off, clasping the necklace around her throat. "Thank you. I'll keep it with me, always."

Anakin smiled at her, glad she liked it so much. "You're welcome."

His discussion with Qui-Gon did little to quell Obi-Wan's conflicted feelings. He paced around his room, mulling over his thoughts.

He'd tried to meditate, but could not manage to relax enough to focus.

It hurt, he admitted, that Qui-Gon felt he was not ready for his Trials, yet was planning on submitting him anyway just so that he could take Anakin, the Chosen One, as his Padawan instead. To replace him with a better, more promising pupil.

He could hardly fault him for that. Anakin was a wellspring of potential.

As if summoned by his thoughts, a timid knock rang out.

Obi-Wan ceased his pacing and opened the door, revealing Anakin, still shrouded in Obi-Wan's much-too-large robes. The boy looked up at him nervously, but said nothing, fidgeting with the sleeves of the robe. Obi-Wan felt guilt anew, worrying that his thoughts may have escaped into their bond as they had earlier.

"Yes, Anakin?" the Padawan prompted.

Anakin shuffled his feet. "Um, I know Qui-Gon said to ask him if I needed anything, but I can't remember which room he was in, but I knew where you were, so… uh… am… I allowed to eat?"

Obi-Wan stared dumbly at the boy, who continued. "I can wait if there's not enough for everyone."

"You don't have to worry about that, Anakin," Obi-Wan said. "There's more than enough food for everyone."

"Oh," Anakin eyes widened in a mixture of confusion and surprise. "Are you sure? I don't have any money."

Obi-Wan's heart ached. He realized, quite belatedly, that in their frenzy following the vision, he'd neglected to make sure Anakin had been fed. It had been hours since. The boy must be starving. "It's already taken care of. Come on, I'll show you where the kitchen is."

They walked through the halls, side by side. It felt strangely familiar.

The pair rounded the corner to the small kitchen, and Obi-Wan set about preparing them a meal. It was certainly no Dex's Diner, but it would do.

Anakin sat at the table, watching him curiously as he reconstituted a packet of rations. 

He set the steaming bowl before the boy, and sat across from him with his own. Anakin dug in quickly, seemingly unaffected by the temperature of the meal.

Their meal began in silence, both worn out from the day's events.

Anakin wolfed his food down, nearly scraping the bowl clean. He eyed Obi-Wan, and the Padawan could feel his trepidation clearly through their fledgling bond.

"Yes?" Obi-Wan eventually asked.

"Do I have to have a stupid hair cut too?" Anakin said indelicately.

Obi-Wan's lips quirked. "You think my hair cut is stupid?"

"No," Anakin backtracked, though his true thoughts laid plain on his face. "I was just wondering."

The Padawan grabbed his braid, holding it out for Anakin to inspect. "When an Initiate is chosen as a Padawan, we grow out part of our hair and wear it as a braid. It represents the length of our training under our Master, and when we pass our Trials, our braid is cut off to signify our transition from Padawan to Jedi Knight."

"Oh, cool." Anakin gently touched the end of Obi-Wan's braid. "So, are you gonna do mine? I don't really know how to braid."

Their bond sparked, warmth bursting in Obi-Wan's chest, followed by a spike of trepidation at the strength of the emotions he felt toward the boy.

"Of course," he said softly.

Chapter Text

Meditation, usually a balm to his soul, turned into a vicious session of self-reflection.

Qui-Gon grimaced as he rose from his trance. Thoughts of Anakin and Obi-Wan swirled in his head.

He had been spectacularly short-sighted as of late.

He stood with a sigh, resolving to seek out his Padawan and continue their earlier discussion. Obi-Wan had made it clear he felt it was his responsibility to see Anakin trained, and Qui-Gon was curious to know what that would mean.

The Jedi wasn't sure what he expected to find when he entered the ship's bay at the mid-point of their journey, but his charges practicing Force techniques certainly wasn't it.

Anakin and Obi-Wan sat cross-legged across from each other, the Padawan's posture straight-backed and proper as always, while the boy was slightly hunched. A habit born of long hours tinkering in dim lighting, he was sure.

"Excellent, Anakin," Obi-Wan said warmly. Qui-Gon observed silently. The two were so absorbed in what they were doing that they hadn't even noticed him, not that he was particularly trying to make his presence known.

Anakin's face twisted from effort, his eyes tightly shut. "What now?"

"Close the windows, as tightly as you can," Obi-Wan instructed. He'd clearly devised a metaphor that Anakin understood for whatever exercise they'd undertaken. "You don't want even a single grain of sand to get in."

Anakin's expression soured. "Okay."

Qui-Gon reached out through the Force, curious. Ah, thought shields. Qui-Gon's lip quirked in amusement at Obi-Wan's expense, wondering if Anakin's loudness through the Force had gotten to his Padawan.

The exercise ended with a frustrated shout from Anakin, the boy throwing himself back onto the floor, a dark cloud of emotions surrounding him. "It's useless! I can't do it."

Still the silent observer, Qui-Gon watched from the doorway with curiosity. How would his Padawan react to Anakin's emotional outburst?

"It's okay, Anakin." Obi-Wan's placating tone surprised the Jedi Master. "We can try again later. There's plenty of time to practice. Do you want to do something else?"

Qui-Gon felt a spike of guilt. He'd underestimated his Padawan, half expecting Obi-Wan to agree with Anakin that it was a waste of time. He looked at the young man, who still had not turned to look at him, so absorbed was he in Anakin.

Anakin crossed his arms over his face. Though he tried to conceal his reaction, it was obvious he had devolved into frustrated tears.

Qui-Gon moved to intervene. He had allowed far too much turmoil in the aftermath of the vision out of confusion, and perhaps curiosity.

But Obi-Wan surprised him once more.

The Padawan stood wordlessly, taking a few steps and sitting neatly next to where Anakin languished. He reached out with his hand, placing it gently on the crown of Anakin's golden head.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan's voice was barely a whisper, with a tenderness that pricked at Qui-Gon's heart. "You are doing far better than anyone else in your situation would have. Your inherent shields are already quite formidable, and you have far surpassed my own talent at your age."

"It's not good enough." Anakin's anguish was clear.

Qui-Gon decided he'd been a passive observer long enough. "No skill can be mastered in one day, Anakin."

Obi-Wan did not move physically, but his Force signature certainly jumped in surprise as Qui-Gon revealed himself. "Master?"

Anakin sat up, hurriedly wiping the tears from his face. "Qui-Gon!"

Qui-Gon waved his hand placatingly, and Anakin looked at him warily. When had that trepidation toward him started?

"I was just teaching Anakin to fortify his existing thought shields," Obi-Wan explained, as if he'd been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. And, Qui-Gon supposed, he had. Training Anakin in anything relating to Force techniques without explicit permission from the Council? He wondered, half-seriously, if his Padawan had sustained brain damage following the vision.

"So I've gathered," Qui-Gon said calmly. Obi-Wan deflated, and Qui-Gon could tell his Padawan was preparing for a lecture. Instead, he asked, "Why?"

"Wh-what?" Obi-Wan's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Rather than repeating himself, Qui-Gon simply gestured toward his Padawan.

"Well," the young man hedged as he looked to Anakin, whose own curiosity had taken hold, distracting him from his frustration. "I don't want him to go into the Council chambers unshielded."

Qui-Gon's eyebrows rose. "Why shouldn't he? How will they assess him fully otherwise?"

Obi-Wan froze, and Qui-Gon felt a sudden wave of anxiety through their bond at the thought of Anakin being fully assessed.

Anakin himself seemed uncomfortable at Qui-Gon's words, though this was easily explained away by his unfamiliarity with the Jedi.

Obi-Wan's reaction, however, gave Qui-Gon pause.

"Anakin," Qui-Gon turned to the boy, "I believe Padmé needed help with her astromech droid."

Qui-Gon knew Anakin wasn't foolish enough to believe that without suspicion, but the boy knew when he was being dismissed.

"Okay." The boy gave a final quizzical look over his shoulder before disappearing beyond the threshold of the ship's bay, leaving Master and Padawan alone.

Qui-Gon looked at Obi-Wan. The vision had clearly affected him far more than he originally suspected, despite Obi-Wan's uncharacteristic vulnerability and emotional outbursts.

"Why have you lost faith in the Council?" he asked. Normally, he would be celebrating such an occasion, this this sudden of a departure from Obi-Wan's typical beliefs was startling.

"I haven't," Obi-Wan argued reflexively, before frowning. "I just worry. Anakin isn't… he wasn't raised in the Temple. I'm not sure the Council will… take that into account."

"Why shouldn't they? That would be one of the first things they would note, I'm sure." Qui-Gon certainly didn't like to speak for the Council, but Anakin's upbringing was incredibly pertinent.

Obi-Wan did not reply, but it was clear he disagreed. Why? Qui-Gon racked his mind. Had Obi-Wan ever disagreed with the Council, even in a thought exercise such as the one they were currently exploring?

"I cannot explain it," Obi-Wan said finally, with a tinge of frustration. "I just… I have a bad feeling."

Qui-Gon frowned. "Because of the vision?" he guessed.

Obi-Wan nodded. "I am… off-balance."

Then, his voice heavy with exhaustion, he nearly whispered, "I don't know what to do."

The Jedi Master recalled the day of the vision, how his Padawan had sought him out, frayed and emotional. He had assumed that—what, Obi-Wan would meditate himself back to normal? Qui-Gon realized quickly just how much he'd taken the impact the vision had on his Padawan for granted.

Obi-Wan still sat where he'd knelt next to Anakin. He gazed up at his Master, imploring.

His voice broke as he repeated, "I don't know what to do, Master."

Qui-Gon knelt before his Padawan. When had he stopped paying attention?

When had he taken for granted that Obi-Wan was so proficient—a Knight in all ways but title due to Qui-Gon's reluctance to let him go?

Why had he not seen that his normally stubborn, unflappable Padawan had been so thoroughly affected by this vision that he was lost with no one to guide him?

"I owe you an apology, Padawan mine." Qui-Gon's voice was rough. "I have been remiss in my duties as your Master."

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to speak, perhaps to argue, but Qui-Gon cut him off with a hand on his shoulder.

"You needed my support," he admitted, "and I was not there. I cannot turn back time, much as I would like to, but I can promise I will not allow it to happen again."

Obi-Wan averted his gaze. "I should be able to handle myself."

"And I should not have been so fixated on prophecy that I allowed you to suffer so," Qui-Gon retorted.

"I… must meditate on this." Obi-Wan did not look at Qui-Gon as he spoke. He stood, Qui-Gon's hand falling from his shoulder, and fled.

Obi-Wan stared out of the viewport, numb.

The trailing lines of hyperspace seemed to go on forever. When he pictured his bond with Qui-Gon, he had always thought it might look something like those twisting threads of plasma.

He closed his eyes, intent on making one last fruitless attempt to meditate before retiring to bed.

His Master's apology rolled around in his mind like a stone at the bottom of a raging river.

The Jedi warned against forming attachments. Attachment led to nothing good. Jealousy, fear of loss, greed.

He had agreed. He did agree.

Yet, how could he be anything but attached?

He had sought out his Master for advice, and left with no answers.

Anakin had turned, Fallen. Joined the Sith. Obi-Wan's love, his attachment, had not saved his wayward Padawan.

There is still good in him. The thought resonated. There must be.

Was it foolishness? The sentimentality of blind affection? How could there still be good in a Sith?

Anakin was the Chosen One.

He was just a boy.

"You never even wanted me." Anakin's heartbroken voice rang in his mind like a bell. His chest tightened.

Qui-Gon had wanted to train Anakin for what he represented.

Why had Obi-Wan trained him, instead? Why did he want to train him now?

He told Qui-Gon he felt it was the will of the Force. The formation of a training bond between him and the boy certainly reinforced that explanation.

The utter darkness of the vision… that still-burning ember…

He'd promised Anakin that he would become a Jedi. That he would do everything in his power to see it through.

Why? A lingering sense of guilt over what he had been shown by the Force? Foolish sentimentality?

Perhaps it was selfishness, wanting to train Anakin, even though it would almost certainly result in failure. Wanting to feel those things his future self had felt. The pride and love, even at the cost of grief and guilt.

He had loved Anakin so fiercely that he refused to believe there was no light left within him.

Had it mattered, in the end? It seemed that Anakin's vision was inversed, beginning with Obi-Wan's pride and love and ending with his failure.

And that second voice, who had wheezed, "I am not your failure, Obi-Wan."

He had a terrible feeling he knew whose voice that would be. If it was Anakin's fate to Fall, that meant it was Obi-Wan's fate to fail.

As the black hole gained strength, the flame beat it back once more.

Qui-Gon's lack of faith in him had hurt, but in a detached way, he understood. Without the vision, he knew exactly how he would feel about Anakin. Just another pathetic life form, a bright new pupil for his Master to teach instead of him. Dangerous for his power, unpredictable for his age, too attached, too emotional, too fearful.

He could not lie to himself. To imagine he would be kind, understanding, and patient with a boy so different from himself. He would have liked to think he would.

In that way, it seemed the vision was a gift.

Because he could look upon Anakin and see him for his potential. Not just for power or greatness, but as someone important to him.

And because it finally opened his eyes to the fact his Master did not disagree with the Council just to be difficult.

It was the very antithesis of everything he'd ever been taught by the Jedi Code, but with the Force delivering this premonition to him, he wondered if the Code was truly the infallible edict he'd upheld it to be.

What kind of Jedi did that make him?

The Force wrapped around him as if to comfort him as he finally, finally drifted into deep meditation.

Did it even matter?

He'd known Qui-Gon was just trying to get him to scram so they could have a secret Jedi talk, but Anakin found Padmé just where Qui-Gon said she'd be, crouched in front of the white and blue astromech droid.

It beeped and screeched at her, rolling back and forth in agitation.

"Hi," Anakin said, putting on his best smile.

Padmé turned, relief flooding into her brown doe eyes at the sight of him.

"Oh, Ani," she smiled, "thank the stars you're here. I'm afraid R2-D2 is having some trouble, and I'm not quite sure how to fix it."

"What's wrong with him?" Anakin asked, crouching in front of the droid.

It screamed at him, offended.

"Sorry, Artoo," Anakin put his hands up in mock surrender. Padmé's amused huff bolstered his fraying nerves. "What's the trouble?"

Artoo beeped at him, his head spinning around in emphasis.

"The sandstorm, you think?" Anakin put a finger on his chin, pretending to think hard, perhaps hamming it up a bit too much.

Padmé rolled her eyes, but her smile remained.

"So he's got sand in uncomfortable places?" She guessed. Artoo screeched, embarrassed.

"Don't worry," he said, "I can fix that pretty easy. Sand gets everywhere on Tatooine."

Padmé nodded gratefully as Artoo beeped, gently bumping into Anakin.

"Yeah, thank me later," Anakin said to the droid, before turning to Padmé. He considered her, suddenly curious. "Why do you care about him so much?"

Padmé's smile froze at his sudden scrutiny. "He saved my life."

Anakin nodded, satisfied. "He's a good droid."

"Yeah," Padmé agreed thoughtfully, absently toying with the necklace he'd given her.

He was back in that void.

Obi-Wan frowned. He didn't remember falling asleep.

Perhaps another vision?

But this time, no thread appeared. Instead, it seemed like a window opened before him, a blurry scene on display.

What it was, he could not tell. But a feeling of trepidation crept up on him as he peered through the window.

"Clouded, this boy's future is." Master Yoda's distinctive voice carried through to him, and he realized that the blurred image was the Council chamber. Mace's voice followed. "No. He will not be trained."

Well, that reaction certainly tracked.

The image shifted abruptly, and his own voice rang out. "The boy is dangerous... they all sense it. Why can't you?"

And he would say that, wouldn't he? So eager to parrot the Council's opinions.

Why was the Force showing him this?

"Obi-Wan, promise... promise me you'll train the boy..." His Master's voice replied, fading…

A terrible feeling settled over the Padawan.

"What will happen to me now?" The boy's voice was raw with vulnerability, grief, and fear.

The window closed.

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan hesitated on the threshold to the Council chamber.

Qui-Gon strode ahead of him, the picture of serene composure that Obi-Wan knew he, too, should be.

The cryptic vision he'd had on their return flight echoed in his head as he watched his Master come to a stop in the center of the room, surrounded by the Councillors in their chairs.

Belatedly, he realized they were waiting for him to start the meeting. With a sheepish dip of his head he hurried into the room.

"Masters," Qui-Gon greeted, bowing politely. Obi-Wan echoed him.

Master Yoda's ears twitched. His eyes seemed to bore through Obi-Wan.

"What is your report, Master Jinn?" Mace opened the session with his usual bluntness.

"On our way back from Naboo with the Queen, our ship's hyperdrive was severely damaged. We managed to land on a planet called Tatooine in the Outer Rim. We were able to procure a new hyperdrive there from a local merchant," Qui-Gon explained. "But, on our way back to the Queen's starship, we were apprehended by a dark warrior who fought with such mastery of the Jedi techniques, and with a lightsaber nonetheless... My only conclusion can be that it was a Sith Lord."

The Council rumbled uneasily, but Obi-Wan could hardly hear them over his own racing thoughts. In all the excitement following the visions, he'd nearly forgotten the dark warrior who chased Qui-Gon and Anakin across the dunes of Tatooine.

He'd assumed the dark warrior was after his Master, or perhaps the Queen, but… what if they were after Anakin?

He was startled from his rumination by his name in Yoda's voice.

"My apologies, Master," he said, blinking hard in an attempt to reorient himself. "I am a bit distracted. Please, repeat the question?"

Yoda observed him, calculating. "Happen, something else did?"

Obi-Wan cast a nervous glance at his Master, who nodded.

"After rescuing Master Jinn from the dark warrior, I was introduced to the boy Master Jinn… liberated," he said slowly. "When our hands touched, a vision overtook us."

"Us?" Ki-Adi said at the same time Mace asked, "A vision?"

"See, what did you?" Yoda prompted.

"Nothing at first. I was in a void, like empty space." Obi-Wan suppressed a shiver at the memory. "A thread, which I believe was a physical manifestation of the Force, appeared. When it touched me, I began hearing… voices."

"Whose voice?" Saesee asked. "What did you hear, Padawan Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan frowned, reluctant to share.

"Afraid, you are." Yoda tapped his gimer stick on the edge of his seat. "Fear us, do you?"

"No, Master," Obi-Wan responded, though he knew the Council could feel his distrust. "It is just… difficult to explain."

"Try," Mace ordered, deliberately refusing to glance at the green Jedi, whose lips twitched at the word.

"I heard myself." He closed his eyes, delving into his memory, hesitating slightly before committing to being honest. "I was speaking to… someone. I told them I failed them. That… I loved them. And about how proud I was of who they became."

Yoda hummed in thought. "What else?"

Obi-Wan shouldn't have been surprised. If anyone knew he'd been leaving things out, it would be the Grandmaster. Yoda himself was well-experienced with visions.

"I spoke about the prophecy of the Chosen One to bring balance to the Force." He trailed off, glancing at his Master.

So far, neither of them had mentioned Anakin's part in it all.

Qui-Gon nodded, thankfully calling attention back to himself. "While I was attempting to find parts for the ship, I sensed what I can only describe as a vergence in the Force. It was there, in that shop, I realized it was centered around a boy."

"The boy Padawan Kenobi mentioned," Mace inferred.

"Yes. His cells have the highest concentration of midi-chlorians ever recorded. And when I spoke with his mother, she said there was no father at all."

The Council fell into an uncomfortable silence.

"I believed finding him was the will of the Force," Qui-Gon continued. "But the vision he and my Padawan shared only reinforces my beliefs."

"Want the boy tested, you do?" Yoda asked.

This question, Obi-Wan answered. "The vision gave me the distinct impression that Anakin Skywalker must be trained."

"Decide this alone, you cannot," Yoda said, not unkindly. "Always in flux, the future is. Tested he will be."

He bowed, but as Qui-Gon turned to leave, he lingered.

"Master Yoda, I would like to speak with you further about the vision," Obi-Wan asked.

Yoda nodded at him. "In the gardens, meet me later. Test the boy tomorrow, we will."

"Thank you, Masters." Obi-Wan bowed once more, and followed his Master out of the chamber.

Anakin could hardly keep his mouth shut as he stared around in awe of the Jedi Temple, and all of Coruscant, really.

He hurried after Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, trying to match their swift, gliding strides through the halls of their home.

All sorts of people wearing beige robes gave him serene smiles as they passed by, and Anakin felt a strange fuzzy feeling in his heart. It felt good—like they were welcoming him home too, not just his Jedi companions.

Eventually, they came to a stop outside a loud room. The smell of food wafted from its doorway.

"Let's eat before we get you settled, Ani," Qui-Gon said, gesturing for him to follow.

"Okay," Anakin agreed, casting a furtive glance at Obi-Wan, who smiled back at him.

It still felt weird, being able to eat without having to do anything first. At home, he and his mom always had to work before they'd be entitled to their portions.

He followed the Jedi into the hall, glancing around in awe. Tables topped with dishes of food stood unguarded, without any barriers. A few Jedi were serving themselves while others sat at tables and ate, chatting about all sorts of things.

Something in his stomach twisted. There was so much food that there was no way it would all be eaten… what happened to the extra?

He jumped as a hand came to rest on his shoulder.

"The excess food is put away for later meals," Obi-Wan said softly, "or donated to a variety of organizations who distribute it to the needy."

Anakin looked up at him in surprise. He must have heard him through their… bond? Or at least, that's what Obi-Wan had called it. "Oh."

"We try never to take more than we can eat," he continued, leading Anakin to one of the long tables, "but if you can't finish your plate, we can bring it back to our quarters so you can eat it later."

"I always finish my food," Anakin said, furrowing his brow. Wasting food was almost as bad as wasting water.

"Of course," Obi-Wan simply agreed, and then handed him a plate. Ahead of them, Qui-Gon was heaping his full of all sorts of things Anakin had never seen before.

He hesitated, hefting the cool weight of the ceramic in his hands. He looked to Obi-Wan, unsure.

"This is steamed rice," Obi-Wan pointed to a dish with a pile of white grains, and then to another dish with a bunch of wet green leaves in it, "and this is a simple green salad."

Anakin nodded. The rice was familiar, they had something like it at home. He put a small amount of both dishes on his plate, and moved forward. Obi-Wan told him what everything was, and Anakin took a small amount of it. He'd never had so many options before, and he wanted to try it all.

When they finally sat, he waited until both men began to eat before he started to try all the dishes he'd grabbed.

"Whoa," he said after biting into some salad, "it's like… solid water."

"What do you think?" Qui-Gon asked.

"It's food." He shrugged. It was crunchy and wet and kind of bitter, but he'd definitely had worse.

Following their meal, Qui-Gon led his Padawan and Anakin back to their suite. The route was familiar, though this time Qui-Gon made sure to walk a bit slower, having noticed how out of breath Anakin had been when they made it to the refectory.

He paused when they rounded the corner and saw Yoda waiting in front of their door.

"Master Yoda," Qui-Gon dipped his head in greeting, "to what do we owe the pleasure?"

Behind him, Obi-Wan and Anakin both bowed politely, though Anakin's was a bit clumsy.

"Hmm," Yoda hummed, "speak to Padawan Kenobi, I will. Impatient, I was."

"How unlike you," Qui-Gon half-joked, wondering at the famously-patient Jedi's impatience. Yoda waved him off with a harrumph.

"And meet young Skywalker early, I wished." The green Jedi hobbled toward them, coming to a stop before the boy. "Hello. Master Yoda, I am. Nice to meet you, it is."

Anakin wiped his hands on his pants, and stuck out a hand to shake. "Hi, Master Yoda, sir. It's nice to meet you, too. I'm Anakin Skywalker."

Yoda shook his hand after a brief moment. "Long journey, you had. Hear about it later, I would like to."

"Sure, Master," Anakin agreed, and Yoda smiled at him, before turning back to Obi-Wan.

"With me, walk, Padawan Kenobi."

"Yes, Master." Obi-Wan dipped his head in acquiescence, and followed the Grandmaster as he began to walk off.

Qui-Gon turned to Anakin, who watched them go. "Let's get you settled, Ani."

"Okay," Anakin replied, his eyes lingering on the corner where the Jedi had disappeared. He hesitated, before asking, "Is Obi-Wan in trouble?"

"No," Qui-Gon said, "he asked to speak to Yoda after our meeting this morning."

"Why?"

Qui-Gon smiled. Ah, the curiosity of a child. "Master Yoda has quite a bit of experience with Force visions, and Obi-Wan wished to consult his expertise."

"Oh," Anakin nodded seriously. Then, a pang of fear radiated through the Force. He looked up at Qui-Gon, his blue eyes wide. "About our vision?"

"Yes," Qui-Gon placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, "do not be afraid, Anakin. Visions do not always come to pass."

Anakin said nothing, but Qui-Gon could tell he was not reassured.

"Come inside," he said, instead of trying to offer more platitudes. Anakin followed him into the small but comfortable quarters, kicking off his shoes after Qui-Gon did.

Anakin made his way to the couch in the middle of the living room, nestling himself into the corner furthest from the door.

"Wow," he said, taking in his surroundings with wide eyes.

"Feel free to make yourself at home," Qui-Gon told him, stepping into the kitchen to start a pot of tea.

He hummed to himself as he worked, setting out four cups, assuming Yoda would at least stay for a cup of tea after kidnapping his Padawan. He chose a sweet, spiced blend, and set about portioning it into his etched glass teapot. It had been a gift from his Master after being Knighted.

He smiled at the memory, though his sentimentality turned bittersweet. He still could not reconcile with memories of the man with his decision to withdraw from the Order, though he had come to more or less accept it over the years.

Shaking his head, he cleared his thoughts, releasing his musings to the Force.

Obi-Wan followed the Grandmaster as they walked to the gardens, coming to a stop in the shade beneath Yoda's preferred tree.

"Shake you, this vision has," the green Jedi stated without preamble. He sat on the ground, laying his gimer stick beside him, and closing his eyes.

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said as he copied Yoda, sitting cross-legged beside the ancient Jedi. "It felt… wrong, in a way. As if it were from somewhere else."

He sighed in frustration. It sounded stupid, saying it out loud.

"What you have seen," Yoda said, his voice strangely tense, "tell me exactly."

Obi-Wan frowned, but recounted the vision in its entirety.

They sat in silence for several moments after.

"More, there is." Yoda opened one eye, peering at the Padawan. "Fear me, do not. Help you, I want to. But without your honesty, I cannot."

Obi-Wan froze. More, there was, indeed. He couldn't believe he had nearly forgotten…

"It wasn't like the first vision," he said slowly, "this time, I did see… scenes, though they were obscured. It was mostly just voices again, but…"

He trailed off, collecting his thoughts. Yoda sat beside him, placid, waiting for him to continue.

"I heard you saying that Anakin's future is clouded, and Mace's saying that he will not be trained," he explained, Yoda's ears twitching as he listened. "I heard myself, probably arguing with Qui-Gon, saying that Anakin is… dangerous. And Qui-Gon making me promise to train Anakin."

He swallowed, "And then I heard Anakin asking what was going to happen to him."

"All, that is?" Yoda prompted.

"Yes, Master."

The green Jedi nodded to himself. "Interesting."

Obi-Wan frowned.

Yoda turned to him, his expression unreadable. "Dangerous the boy is, you said."

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to disagree, but Yoda cut him off.

"Agree with you, I do. Dangerous, we all are," the green Jedi tapped his fingers on his knees rhythmically, "Concerned about the boy's age, the Council is. Attached, he is. Fearful and angry, he is."

"But—"

"Patience, Padawan Kenobi," Yoda chastised. His ears twitched as he studied Obi-Wan. "A difficult childhood, he had. A Temple youngling, he is not. Tested, he will be. Trialed, you will be."

Obi-Wan's eyes widened.

"Make promises, I cannot," the Grandmaster's eyes had adopted an odd twinkle of mischief, "but, follow the Force's will, a good Jedi does."

The Padawan's stomach fluttered. "But, what if—"

Quick as lightning, Yoda grabbed his gimer stick and rapped Obi-Wan across the knee with it. "Much doubt, you have. Faith in the Council, you have lost? In yourself, too?"

Obi-Wan rubbed his knee, suppressing a grimace. "No, Master, it's just—ever since the vision, I've found myself strangely… attached. No matter what I do, I cannot… rid myself of it." He looked away in shame at his admission, preparing for a lecture.

"To the dark side, attachment can lead," Yoda said, though there was a hint of something unreadable in his voice. "From the dark side, no return there is, the Council believes. Disagree, you do."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, Master. I cannot—I just don't see how that's possible."

"Said it yourself, you did. Still good in him, there is."

The Padawan sat silently, conflicted.

Yoda sighed. "Want to train the boy, you do."

Obi-Wan nodded, not quite able to bring himself to speak it out loud after what Yoda had accused him of.

The green Jedi gave him a long look. "Long, I have lived. Lost many friends, I have. Tempted by the dark side, I have been."

Obi-Wan looked up in shock at the Grandmaster's admission. "You—what?"

"True, it is," Yoda said with amusement, before turning serious, "Perfect, I am not. Made mistakes, I have. But—learn from them, I do."

"I…" Obi-Wan trailed off. Something in him rebelled at the insinuation his attachment to Anakin was a mistake… though what else could it be? The Jedi Code counseled against attachments, and for good reason.

Seeming to pick up on his trepidation, Yoda tapped him gently with his gimer stick. "Wrong, you are not. A mistake, your feelings are not."

"What else can you call it?" Obi-Wan shook his head, his shame clouding his vision.

Yoda observed him again, his ears drooping. "Many versions of the Jedi Code, there have been. Restrictive, it has become. Left the Order because of its failings, my Padawan did…" he paused, before admitting, "Hard, change is."

Obi-Wan stared at him, barely able to keep his mouth closed in his surprise. This was not what he'd been expecting when he asked Yoda to speak with him about the vision.

"Love all things, Jedi should. Dangerous attachment is, yes… But lack empathy at times, we do. Allow suffering of others, we should not," Yoda grimaced, "Follow the Code, we should—yet fear breaking it, we do. Too attached to ideas, we have become."

"What do you mean, Master?" Obi-Wan asked, a tendril of anxiety coiling around his heart. This conversation was becoming dangerously close to heresy.

Yoda sighed. "Fear the boy, the Council does. Reject training him in your vision, we did. Doom him to darkness, we might have."

Obi-Wan's eyebrows flew into his hairline, and a curl of guilt flared within him. "But I still trained him, and failed him."

"Fail him, you did not, Padawan," the weariness in the Jedi's voice belied his age. "We did."

"What?" Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes at the green Jedi.

"Dark portents, I have seen," Yoda closed his eyes, tilting his head back as he spoke. "Lost our way, we have. Theories, I have… Change, we must, or darkness will rule us all."

Chapter Text

Anakin leapt to his feet as Obi-Wan stepped through the door followed by the tiny green Jedi.

"Obi-Wan!" Anakin greeted the young man, grinning.

"Hello, young one." Obi-Wan smiled at him, but it did not quite reach his eyes… Frowning, Anakin searched their bond, but Obi-Wan's side was tightly shut. He pouted, but did not pry.

"Greetings, young Skywalker." the green Jedi hobbled around Obi-Wan, making a beeline straight for the other couch on the opposite side of the room, and picking up one of the cups Qui-Gon had left for the two of them.

"Come on in," Qui-Gon said sarcastically as the Grandmaster took a seat next to him, "and hello to you too, Padawan."

Obi-Wan nodded sheepishly at his Master. Anakin sat back down, patting the cushion beside him. "Come sit over here, we saved some tea for you."

"Thank you, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, sitting lightly on the edge of the couch. He picked up the remaining cup, sipping from it.

"About your home, tell me?" Yoda asked after taking a hearty gulp of tea.

Anakin hesitated. Was this a test? But with an encouraging nudge from Obi-Wan, he began. "Yes, sir, uh… Tatooine is a desert planet, so it's really sandy and hot all the time… My mom and I were Watto's slaves, he owns a junk shop, and I cleaned the shop and fixed stuff for him."

"A slave, you were?" Yoda glanced at Qui-Gon as he asked.

Anakin shrugged. "I was, but Qui-Gon freed me after I won the Boonta Eve Classic."

Yoda's face remained neutral, though Anakin could tell he was disturbed. "Miss your mother, do you?"

The boy nodded, a lump forming in his throat. "Yeah."

Qui-Gon frowned at his response, but Obi-Wan's comforting presence calmed him before he could wonder if he'd said the wrong thing.

"Describe to me, your mother," Yoda prompted.

Anakin closed his eyes, willing the tears away. "She's always worried about me, and she's really smart, and brave…"

"Love her, you do."

"She's my mom," Anakin said. "Of course I love her."

"Worried for her, you are? Fear for her safety, do you?" Yoda asked, leaning forward slightly.

"Well, yeah…" Anakin glanced nervously at Qui-Gon, whose expression was drawn. "Qui-Gon could only free me, so my mom is still… she's still at Watto's shop."

Yoda turned to Qui-Gon, frowning. "Only free the boy, you could?"

Qui-Gon averted his gaze. "During the pod race, I attempted to place a bet on both the boy and his mother, but Watto refused. It was him or her. I felt… that my responsibility as a Jedi was to free him, a Force-sensitive youngling, and ensure that he received training…. Without Watto's consent, I could not buy, win, or even take his mother without risking her life."

Yoda's ears twitched, and Anakin could vaguely sense his confusion.

"Because of the chips," he explained, his stomach turning.

"Chips?" Yoda's frown deepened. "Removed, your chip was?"

Anakin's hands clenched in to fists in his lap. "Watto deactivated it, but…"

An uncomfortable silence descended.

"Try to help your mother, we will," Yoda said, and the other two Jedi could not mask their surprise.

Anakin looked at the green Jedi in shock, hardly daring to believe it. "Really?"

"Help those in need, the Jedi should," Yoda replied. "Save the galaxy all at once, we cannot… But save one life, we can."

His eyes watered, and he rubbed his face with his sleeve. His heart felt too big in his chest. "Thank you, Master."

Yoda hummed, taking another sip of his tea. "Now, this pod racing… what is it?"

"You don't know about pod racing?"

As Anakin regaled Yoda with tales of his pod racing misadventures, Obi-Wan looked up in surprise as his Master sent a message through their bond, urging him to meet him in the kitchen.

"Excuse us," Obi-Wan said at Anakin's inquisitive look, before following his Master out of the living room.

Qui-Gon was staring hard at the wall, his brows furrowed deeply. "This past week has been strange even to me, Padawan," he paused, rubbing at his temples as if attempting to physically clear his mind. "Was I unaware of the existence of another Master Yoda in our illustrious Order?"

Obi-Wan didn't know what to say to that. The green Jedi was cryptic at the best of times, but this was a sharp departure from the Grandmaster's usual... everything. It was disturbing.

"Suffered a head injury, I have," Qui-Gon imitated, his instinct to make light of difficult situations stubbornly persisting.

"Master," Obi-Wan chastised, frowning. The object of their discussion was just in the next room, and they weren't being particularly quiet.

Qui-Gon sighed. "Apologies, Padawan. I'm just sorely at a loss for how to react to… all of this, really."

"You and me both." Obi-Wan leaned against the counter, crossing his arms.

"I'll just assume that your discussion with Master Yoda was enlightening."

Obi-Wan groaned, not bothering to dignify that with a response. He was sure he'd seek his Master's advice on Yoda's ramblings later, but he found that he would rather not deal with it all right now.

Perhaps that was not very Jedi-like of him, but he wasn't really sure that being a Jedi was supposed to mean anymore.

Qui-Gon mirrored his posture, leaning against the opposite counter. "I did try to free Shmi as well," he admitted. "Watto refused all of my offers. I even tried to mind trick him, but Toydarians are immune."

The Padawan shook his head. "What will happen to her, now?"

Qui-Gon shrugged. "I'm not sure. This is unheard of."

That was unsettling. Obi-Wan stared at the floor of their apartment. It was well-worn, the tile scratched and chipped from decades of use.

"What do you think, about attachment?" he asked.

His Master stroked his beard in thought, before replying. "Attachments are natural. But learning to let go of them is vital, not only to Jedi, but to all beings."

Obi-Wan's hand crept up, tugging nervously at his Padawan braid. "What if holding on is the right thing to do?"

"There is no absolute rule," Qui-Gon conceded. "But still, as a Jedi, we have a responsibility to the many over the one."

"What if we must save the one to save the many?" Obi-Wan insisted, the fire burning in his chest driving him forward with this line of thinking.

Qui-Gon observed him, an odd look on his face. "What is this about, Padawan?"

Obi-Wan faltered. "I was just… thinking."

Qui-Gon's expression shifted, almost pitying. "Is this about Anakin?"

"Not necessarily," the Padawan said lamely.

The Jedi Master pushed off the counter, laying a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder, his expression grave.

"We cannot save everyone, Padawan." His eyes were bright with grief. "The future is unclear, no matter what your vision showed you. Do not let your fear control you. I could not stop Xanatos from Falling, any more than we can control the choices of those we care for… even Anakin."

Obi-Wan looked away, his heart clenching. Qui-Gon just didn't understand. He sighed, and changed the subject. "Master Yoda said the Council accepted your submission for me to take my Trials."

Qui-Gon took the subject change with grace, though he still looked at him with something akin to pity. "Congratulations, Obi-Wan. For all of our difficulties, you have been a good apprentice... I am very proud of you. You will be a great Jedi Knight."

A different feeling swelled in Obi-Wan's chest. Not pride in himself, nor appreciation for his Master's words.

It reminded him of that bright sun in his vision. Of Anakin.

"Thank you, Master." Obi-Wan said, his voice rough.

The temple itself was quiet at night, but the never-ending traffic of Coruscant clashed just outside.

Qui-Gon watched as Obi-Wan gently picked up a sleeping Anakin from the couch, carrying him into his own room. The Padawan tucked the boy into his own bed, before gently closing the door, and settling himself on the couch.

"Good night, Master." Obi-Wan said.

"Good night, Padawan." Qui-Gon replied. He entered his own bedroom, shutting the door, and immediately sitting cross-legged in the middle of his floor.

He had much to meditate on.

Anakin woke well before Obi-Wan or Qui-Gon. He stretched his aching limbs and yawned, blinking blearily up at the ceiling.

Sitting up with a start, he looked around, eyes wide. He'd fallen asleep on the couch. How did he end up… here?

He shivered at the chill morning air, looking down at the bed. There were several blankets piled high on top of him, all of varying thickness.

The topmost blanket was plush and thick, a deep blue color that reminded Anakin of space. He ran his hands over it, marveling at its softness.

Peering around, he saw a door that had been left slightly ajar in the corner of the room. Hoping it was a refresher, he bravely hopped out of the warm bed into the cold room.

Thankfully, his hopes had been correct. He washed his hands, wiping them dry on his tunic, and then inspected himself in the mirror.

He looked the same.

Well, his hair was a little dirty, but he hadn't really had the opportunity to have a good wash… his mom would've been disappointed in him for going to bed without washing. In someone else's bed, nonetheless.

Frowning, he turned to look at the shower. It only had one knob and there were a few products on a shelf within it.

He reached for the knob, but hesitated, his mother's manners lessons echoing in his head. He should really ask first, shouldn't he?

Hurrying against the chill, he poked his head out of the bedroom. Obi-Wan slept on the couch, arms crossed. He didn't even have a blanket.

A pang of guilt bit at him. Did Obi-Wan give him all of the blankets?

As Anakin spiraled, Obi-Wan cracked a single eye. "Yes, Anakin?"

He nearly jumped out of his skin. "Oh, uh, good morning, Obi-Wan. Can I use your refresher?"

Obi-Wan nodded sleepily. "Do you need help?"

Anakin frowned. He was a kid, yeah, but he wasn't a baby. "No, I got it… thanks."

The Padawan said nothing, closing his eye and drifting back to sleep.

Reassured, Anakin returned to the shower, shutting the door behind him before beginning to fiddle with the knob. He turned as far as it would go, and nearly burned his hand off when he went to test the temperature. Who needed their water that hot?

He turned it quickly back the other direction, waiting until it was a nice lukewarm, before hopping in and wetting himself. He shut the water off, remembering the setting he'd left it on, and puzzled over which of the several products he was meant to use to wash himself.

He settled on an unscented liquid soap, lathering it into a thick foam, and scrubbed himself vigorously with a cloth. He didn't get as sweaty or sandy away from Tatooine, but it was still important to be clean.

He turned the water back on, rinsing himself, before shutting it back off and stepping out. Belatedly, he realized he'd forgotten to get a towel or clean clothes. He grabbed Obi-Wan's towel—Sorry!—and dried himself in a hurry, before wrapping it around himself.

He poked his head out of the bedroom once more.

"Obi-Wan," he hissed, reluctant to step into the living room.

"What?" the Padawan groaned, sitting up.

"I don't have clean clothes," Anakin whispered.

"Oh," Obi-Wan said, rubbing his eyes, cold guilt welling on his side of the bond. "I'll get you some. Sorry, I meant to get you some from the outfitter yesterday."

"It's okay," Anakin insisted, shivering despite himself. It wasn't really Obi-Wan's fault he forgot, there was so much going on… But, he was very cold. "Please hurry, though. I'm gonna freeze my butt off!"

Obi-Wan blinked the sleep out of his eyes, righting his robes, and left to fetch Anakin some clothes.

Anakin stood, shivering, until Obi-Wan returned several minutes later.

The Padawan was certainly awake now. "I'm sorry, Anakin. I shouldn't have forgotten. Here you are."

Anakin gratefully accepted the clothing, linen robes just like all the other Jedi wore. He shut the door, dressing himself quickly and putting the towel back in the refresher. Then, with a shiver and a longing look at the bed, he decided to take the blue blanket with him, draping it over his shoulders like a cloak.

Obi-Wan had migrated to the kitchen, and by the smell of it, was preparing breakfast. Anakin's mouth watered.

"What are you making?" he asked, the blanket trailing behind him.

"Pancakes," Obi-Wan replied, giving him an amused glance. "There's a cup of tea for you on the counter, to warm you up."

Anakin grinned. "Thanks, Master."

Obi-Wan faltered, the pancake he'd been flipping falling half-off the pan, almost onto the stovetop.

Anakin frowned. Had he said something wrong? "I mean… uh… sir…"

"Sorry," the Padawan shook his head, trying to scrape the fallen pancake back into a circle. "It's just, I'm not your Master, Anakin."

"Aren't you gonna train me to be a Jedi?" He asked, confused.

Obi-Wan set the spatula down, turning to the sink to grab something to get the droplets of spilled batter off the stovetop. "I plan to, but right now, I'm just a Padawan."

Anakin shrugged. "Qui-Gon won me, though. And you're his Padawan."

At this, Obi-Wan turned to him, a strange look on his face.

Anakin peered back at him. That was how it worked, wasn't it? Did Obi-Wan not… want him anymore?

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said gravely. "You don't have a master anymore. You're free."

The boy shuffled uncomfortably. "But…"

Obi-Wan turned the heat on the stove down, kneeling in front of him. "Anakin, nobody owns you anymore. You are your own person."

"Well, yeah," Anakin averted his gaze, Obi-Wan's stare piercing through him. "But, I just thought… Don't… Why do you keep calling everyone Master, then?"

"The Jedi use it as another word for teacher," Obi-Wan explained.

"Oh," Anakin said. He didn't really get it, though. Obi-Wan had to do what Qui-Gon said. Just like he had to do what Watto said. And now, he'd have to do what Obi-Wan said, right?

Obi-Wan sighed, turning back to the pancakes. "You know, if you don't want to be here, you don't have to be, right?"

"I want to!" Anakin insisted, a flicker of fear in his chest. He didn't want to go back to Tatooine, not even if he could be with his mom again.

"No, that's not what I meant," the Padawan frowned, plopping the pancakes on to a plate. "I know you want to be here. I just… If you ever changed your mind, nobody would force you to stay."

Anakin looked at him suspiciously. "Why would I want to leave?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "I left the Order, once."

"What!" Anakin's eyes felt like they were going to bug out of his sockets. "You?"

"A long time ago," the Padawan confirmed, "I felt like the Order wasn't… right for me."

"What happened?" Anakin gasped.

"I'll tell you the whole story after your Testing," Obi-Wan promised, handing Anakin a plate with a stack of pancakes. "Now let's hurry up and eat. The summons should arrive any minute now."

Thoroughly distracted by the promise of a story and a steaming plate of food, Anakin sat at the table and dug in.