Chapter Text
The walk back to the transport was filled with a deep silence, one that Obi Wan felt in his chest, that curled a fist around his heart and squeezed. Qui Gon didn’t act like he even wanted to look his way – and who could really blame him? Obi Wan betrayed the jedi order... betrayed Qui Gon, and it all accounted for nothing in the end. What happened was a mistake; he knew that now, but he could never take it back.
The silence was deafening. Obi Wan had seen Qui Gon in silent revere before, but this felt entirely different. Disappointment was beyond an understatement. The former padawan walked as if a tail be tucked between his legs. It was so awkward—the silence. Feelings clouded his brain, and he felt as though he should say something.
Obi Wan’s heart was drubbing, but he swallowed his anxiety; “Will you ever take me back, Qui Gon?” For a while then, the words hung between them, a question that had gone unanswered, and Obi Wan was beginning to feel that doubt. “I know I’m meant to be a Jedi. I see that now.”
“I know you are meant to one, Obi Wan, but whether you become by padawan again is still up for debate.” Qui Gon answered him, but he didn’t give his former apprentice the courtesy of a glance.
His face pulled. Obi Wan again felt that deep desolation which filled him before. He opened his mouth to interject a statement—perhaps another argument—but then shut it, realizing arguing at this point in time was useless. His future with the Jedi remained uncertain, as did his relationship with Qui Gon, whom he hoped to call Master once again.
Deep in his heart, Obi Wan knew he was meant to be a Jedi. Moreso, he knew he was meant to be Qui Gon’s apprentice. His own pride wouldn’t let him forget it. He was stubborn, and he’d spend an eternity proving himself if the Gods demanded it.
-
From the first second even before Obi Wan and Qui Gon Jinn entered the Temple, the young boy sensed a tension—like, something arcane had change. Maybe to him, the place he once called home, with its meditation chambers and hushed voices in the library, or the shrill laughter of younglings that echoed through the halls, now seemed a big foreign. It felt unusually quiet, too. So much so that he could hear his own heartbeat, and thought that by chance Qui Gon could sense it as well.
They carried themselves through the twists and turns, down one hallway on the left and up another on the right, until they reached the atrium where the Jedi Council Chambers resided on the tip top. The elevator ride had been one of silence, and as much as Obi Wan wanted to look the way of his former master, he didn’t dare do so—feeling the burrowing eyes of disappointment on him.
The Temple was on high alert due to the attempt on Yoda’s life, with everyone’s comings and goings monitored with the tightest of scrutinizes. It seemed to echo what Obi Wan was feeling. That’s why they were here. But Obi Wan couldn’t shake the pressing anxiety.
That feeling didn’t abate itself as they stepped into the Council chambers, and Obi Wan saw all twelve members seated in a semicircle, arching windows behind them. He scanned over the whole room, but it had been Yoda who drew most of his attention. He was relieved to see the Jedi Master alive and well, but Yoda skipped over him completely, looking instead to Qui Gon.
Mace Windu opened the meeting. And Obi Wan stayed silent, standing at Qui Gon’s right with his hands hanging at his sides. It was hard listening to Master Windu going through things like reading bullet points off a spread sheet. Not because it was boring, but because it was hard to imagine anyone going after Yoda.
He was fine, by the way. Yoda thought Mace going over the events of what happened was redundant when they should be focused on finding the solution. It’s something Mace quickly agreed to, and changed direction almost instantly, refocusing on the figure Yoda saw hurrying away from the scene. Something about a meditation robe and ducking under a waterfall before disappearing all together.
Obi Wan’s eyes widened.
As far as anyone knew, Bruck Chun hadn’t left the Temple, which told Obi Wan his school bully was still around here somewhere, and whoever he allied himself with—according to Windu—was still a mystery. There was a data sheet, too, containing only two single sentences, which Obi Wan read as Qui Gon passed it to him: MEDITATE ON THIS, MASTERS. NEXT TIME I WILL NOT FAIL.
It was a warning—Bruck and his ally were coming back. Which meant they all needed to be on high alert. Obi Wan handed back the data pad. Mace was looking directly at him with one of the most penetrating gazes Obi Wan had ever seen on the Jedi Master’s face. In that moment, he felt small, smaller than he ever had been—and he wasn’t a tall boy by any means.
When Mace Windu spoke, you listened; “Obi Wan, we are hoping that you will have insights into what Bruck Chun can and will do.”
I don’t see why. “We weren’t friends. I don’t see how I –”
“Perhaps not, but you were rivals, which could be more valuable.”
Obi Wan sighed, and shrugged. “I didn’t know him well. Rivals, yes—I knew how he fought and what moves he’d make, but not what was in his mind or heart.”
Something told him that wasn’t the answer the Council members were looking for from him. He bit the inside of his bottom lip and swallowed his apprehension. Their disappointment was clear. His palms were sweaty, and his forehead felt warm. He thought that he might be running a fever, but realized it was only nerves.
Obi Wan added more; “I’ll do what I can. I can talk to his friends, find out some of his thoughts –” Mace held a hand up, silencing him.
“No need.” His fingers laced together. “Unless the Council specifically asks otherwise of you, we must insist you do not interfere, not until a decision is reached.”
“But, the Temple is my home!”
Mace nodded. “And you are welcome to remain here until a decision is made but there is still a lot needing to be discussed.”
“There is a real threat to the Temple, and I could investigate, being one person who could be ruled out as a suspect.”
He wasn’t thinking clearly in the moment.
“The Council will manage.”
Obi Wan sighed, then nodded, then broke into an apology for his actions. He wanted nothing more than to be a padawan again, even if that meant proving he was worthy of forgiveness for the manner in which he left.
This time, it was Yoda who spoke; “Have again what you had before, you cannot.”
“Obi Wan,” Ki-Adi-Mundi spoke up, “you have not only violated Qui Gon’s trust but that of this Council. The sooner you recognize that, the better you will be for it.”
“But I do!” Obi Wan exclaimed, “I take full responsibility for my actions.”
“Do you? Mere sorries don’t simply make the offense suddenly disappear. You didn’t just interfere with internal affairs of a planet without prior approval, but you defied the orders of your own master. These are serious charges, Obi Wan.”
Obi Wan lowered his eyes. Mace’s words stung, but they were true. He breathed in and out as calmly as he could do, trying to not panic, but refusing to meet the gaze of others, fearing they’d look at him with the same tight scrutiny Mace was.
Eventually, he was dismissed to his old quarters. That was at least something. Waiting was going to be a pain, but he supposed he had little choice. He would have to accept their decision either way. If the Council voted to allow him back, he’d be grateful, and strive not to make further transgressions but if they didn’t—if they ruled to bar him from the Temple, and from the jedi Order—Obi Wan didn’t know what he’d do.
~*~
Bruck Chun was dead.
Bant was alive.
And Xanatos was still out there.
Qui Gon and Tahl sat in silence for some time. Sometimes the silence was a welcoming thing; today, it wasn’t, and Qui Gon actually missed the whimsical chattering of Tahl’s droid.
Tahl felt her way around the kitchenette. She located two cups in her cupboards, a couple tea bags, and filled each with hot water from the kettle. She liked her tea with a bit of cream, but Qui Gon liked his plain.
“You are to meet with the Council soon?”
Qui Gon nodded. “Yes. Obi Wan’s fate will be decided.”
“He is just a boy, Qui; he understands his mistakes, I’m sure. If you decide to take him back, I know it will help.” Tahl put a steaming teacup in front of him, then in front of herself as she slowly lowered herself into a chair. “The Council would likely allow him back if they were assured of this.”
“I know.” Qui Gon lifted the cup to his lips.
Tahl added: “Especially with all he has done taken into consideration.”
“I am well aware of this.”
She wanted to roll her eyes. “You are a stubborn man.”
“Not stubborn. Cautious. What if I would be doing more harm to him than good? And if I cannot give Obi Wan back my trust, the bond was share will break eventually.”
“Do you feel such trust cannot be rebuilt?”
Qui Gon lowered his gaze, looking down at the hands the wrapped around his cup. “It’s one of my flaws, I’m afraid. I want to but –” His eyes lifted as he felt Tahl’s hand on his own, and he found himself smiling, just a little.
“It's normal for young people to make mistakes. Our role is to support them and help them get back on their feet, not to see them fail."
There was another silence between them, and Tahl tried figuring out what Qui Gon was thinking. Whatever it was—it bothered him.
“Failure is how we learn from our mistakes,” Qui Gon added. “Obi Wan needs to learn through his failure.”
“But the punishment must be appropriate to the crime. The only crime young Kenobi has committed is disobeying you.”
Qui Gon’s mouth twisted. “And inferred in the affairs of others.”
“His heart was in the right place.”
“Obi Wan mustn’t let it overrule logic..... what?” Qui Gon blinked; Tahl was staring at him, with one eyebrow crocked.
She then picked up an empty cup from the table, running her fingers around the smooth surface of it. Even though she couldn’t see it, Tahl knew the details of the cup, she knew it was beautiful despite its cracks. But she didn’t see it as a flaw; but something with personality.
Tahl turned the cup over in her hands. “You’ve heard of the planet Aurea, yes?”
“Of course,” responded Qui Gon.
“Some of the best glass workers in the galaxy live there. Such a diverse planet. The luxury vessels they create are considered priceless. But—occasionally—one will shatter, and they remake it. They take what it broken and create something better from it.”
Qui Gon raised his eyebrows; there was a lesson in all this, he was sure of it. Tahl had a way of doing that without him realizing. He sat there in silence as she spoke, absorbing and understanding what he could.
As he picked up the cup, and it dwarfed in his large hand, Qui Gon thought about Obi Wan, and how the boy resembled the cup—broken and fragile. If the artisans on Aurea could remake what was once broken, surely Qui Gon could do the same. Maybe not the way things were, but something new and stronger.
He set the cup down, meeting her gaze; “You indubitably have a way of chastening me. I know not things will never be as they were, but perhaps better.”
Tahl put her hand on his again. This time, Qui Gon accepted, turning his hand only slightly, taking hers in his. His thumb grazed over her dark honey skin. He brought her hand to his lips, pressing a feather-light kiss to her knuckles. Tahl reached for his face. Her free hand moved over every crease and line in his skin.
Qui Gon turned her hand over, pressing a kiss to her palm. He then leaned forward in his chair until his lips met hers. Their kiss was tender, filled with years of unspoken emotions. As they pulled away, Tahl looked into Qui Gon’s eyes, seeing a warmth and love that she had always felt but never fully acknowledged.
He smiled softly at her, his hand still holding hers, then smirked; “I should go...” But he didn’t want to; yet, circ*mstances beckoned him away from her.
“We will talk later.”
