It’s
one of those things that no one can’t seem to remember differently
of now, so many years later.

Mace
Windu has always been bald.

Yoda
has always been old.

Jocasta’s
robes has always been golden with her sternness being a part of the
Archive.

And
Qui-Gon Jinn has always been white haired with black tunics and
robes.

That’s
just how it’s always been.

But
for those who remember, there was a time when Qui-Gon Jinn’s robes
were beige and his hair was the mix of chestnut and silver and
his face was less lined with the wrinkles of age compared to smiling
wrinkles.

Age
has come early for Qui-Gon particular
kind of subhuman species.

And
beyond that, there was a time when Qui-Gon Jinn laughed easily.

Now
he only laughs far and few in between and only smiles faux that he
passes off as genuine to those is on mission for or
the genuine ones
for his padawan.

But
he’s smiling now, however faintly, as he watches his young padawan
duel a Maul holo program from the same fight that he had against the
creature. Oh Qui-Gon knows, it’s moves that Anakin can study but
you learn from that, you learn and many has gathered to watch as it’s
not often the Sith recording gets brought out.

Especially
not while the Jedi in question who conquered the Sith
is
there to watch.

Qui-Gon
can’t tell if it’s respect or a mix of worry that makes people
avoid the Maul records pulled from Naboo and the melting factory and
he’s not oblivious to the nervous looks sent his way not only from
padawans but also master’s as Anakin continues battling.

He
only stiffens when he takes note of the Chancellor in the crowd,
speaking with Mace while also watching Anakin.

That
man has an unhealthy interest in his padawan and
Qui-Gon did not like and would not accept him interfering with
Anakin’s training.

Swiftly
shifting from the rails, Qui-Gon made his way towards the Chancellor
and Mace, the crowd parting for him like the waves of an ocean.

Qui-Gon
had to admit, outside of Anakin, he had become brusque with people,
so this action was wise on their part.

And
when he got close enough to hear, he felt his blood boil. “I
believe,” He murmured loud enough for both Chancellor and Mace to
jump in surprise, both absorbed in their conversation and not paying
attention to the environment. Foolish, that’s how you died, that’s
how you lost someone. “That in the end, I
am Anakin’s master and guardian and I
do not see why I should leave my underage padawan alone with an
older man that neither of us are overly familiar with, regardless of
his position of power. Indeed I question the wisdom
of someone using said power seat to indeed ensure such a meeting.”
He stated, his voice low and snappish.

And
full of insinuations.

Aged
blue and silvery eyes clashed, a second of anger in those silver eyes
that had Qui-Gon pulling up in defense.

Oh,
Qui-Gon was quite aware that he was still an intimidating figure,
towering over many people, silver hair pulled back in a braid Anakin
had insisted on creating earlier and all decked out in black just
like his own former master.

In
front of him, many people become small and that included the
Chancellor.

“I
was simply offering my guidance to young Anakin, I’m sure you
understand Master Jinn.” The swarmy snake offered, a ‘benign’
smile on his lips.

Narrowing
his eyes in disgust, Qui-Gon drew his lips in a humorless smile.
“Then you find my guidance unsatisfactory? I can easily guide you
to the JYP office?” Qui-Gon raised his brow.

Behind
the Chancellor, Qui-Gon could barely see Mace dropping his face in
his hands.

A
strained smile appeared on the Chancellor’s face. “That will be…
unnecessary, I do not believe we will have to involve the Jedi
Youngling protection service… I apologize if I’ve overstepped my
bounds Master Jinn.”  He inclined his head ever so slightly.

Qui-Gon
stared at the man mutely for a moment before turning his back on him,
feeling the flash of rage in the Force and inwardly smiling to
himself at the lack of decorum the Chancellor just showed to every
gathered Jedi. Quite a few stepped away as they before had leaned in
to listen but Qui-Gon just settled a hand on the rail again and
peered over, smiling faintly once more as he watched Anakin go for
the kill.

‘That’s
right. In a battle against the Sith, don’t hesitate Anakin. Kill
the fear, kill the hesitation and survive, come back to me. A
plan never survives first contact with the enemy and therefore you
have to kill the fear in your heart of the enemy and the response to
your tactics.’
Qui-Gon sent his affection along their bond, quiet and calm so not to
disturb the teen.

Anakin
didn’t pause, finished the mou
kei despite what anyone thought about it.

Because
that was what Qui-Gon had taught him, to not hesitate when the Sith
were involved. Because Qui-Gon did not believe it was over.

It
was not over, there
are still Sith out there, only the apprentice died.

The
boy paused, panting, watching as Maul fell before turning excitedly
and looked up at Qui-Gon, blue eyes wide, hopeful only to for his
face to transform into a wide smile when Qui-Gon smiled softly down
at him in turn, pride
and
affection sent to his equally dark clothed padawan, though that is
more out of convince for the oil stains and fluids from working on
mech.

It
should have ended there, the
holo.

It
didn’t, someone
had calibrated it wrongly and he knew that wasn’t Anakin.

Qui-Gon
entire body froze when suddenly a much younger him ran past Anakin,
clearly
startling the blond.
“Obi-Wan!” The shout reverberated even up to the balcony as
Qui-Gon hand tightened on the rail with
his other finding a longer
than it should be length of braided and decorated hair curled around
his belt loop and
he could see Anakin freeze just as much as
Qui-Gon.

Anakin
had been the first to find the two Jedi so many years ago…

He
could feel others suddenly hold their breath as they realized too
what this was as Qui-Gon in holo form dropped to his knees and lifted
another person into view, Obi-Wan groaning in pain and flopping
powerlessly against Qui-Gon’s chest, the younger master staring
down in horror. “Force.” Qui-Gon of the past hissed, staring down
at where Obi-Wan was barely being kept together.

The
phantom smell of charred flesh rose in Qui-Gon’s nose, nausea as he
watched himself whisper reassurances and desperately tried to do
anything for his padawan, looking for help only to settle back when
he knew nothing would come, still trying to reassure Obi-Wan.

There
is nothing to be done, no one to save Obi-Wan and just a last request
of a song from a dying man as he weakly grasps Qui-Gon’s forearm
with a knowing smile on what was pale lips.

Just
the quiet song of an already grieving man until Obi-Wan’s hand
falters and Qui-Gon is alone.

There’s
a moment, quiet and full as the man in the holo tightens his grip on
what is obviously now a dead body.

And
then he screams.

Even
all these years after in a holo image, there is power in that scream
and Qui-Gon only watches with faint detachment as the holo distorts,
as his muted scream from the sound speakers echos into the temple for
the first time in years.

He
absently notes that Anakin has frozen at the control now,
having tried to shut the supposed training holo down but
Qui-Gon
doesn’t
take his eyes fully
off
the holo even as a light above them sparks and breaks with the power
of what should be a long forgotten scream, never played in the temple
before
as out of respect, the council had let Qui-Gon’s grief be his own.

And
then the holo collects itself as the quiet sounds of grief echos
instead, Qui-Gon pulling Obi-Wan’s body to him even tighter with
his face buried in blue hair that Qui-Gon still remembers the shade
of red on.

Still
remembers the copper shade mixed with blond from missions on sunny
planets, his sunshine.

Qui-Gon’s
sunshine, with a cocky, impish smile and a clever remark from one who
pretends to be so austere to everyone else, pretends tranquility.

A
hand finds his on the belt and Qui-Gon breaks from the sounds of his
own grief and his own memories to look down, finding Anakin staring
up at him with worry on his face, his small hand tight on Qui-Gon’s
before the boy shifts in front of him and reaches up, carefully
drying his own master’s tears.

A
rusty chuckle escaped Qui-Gon at that. “Thank you padawan, I
believe we have meditations now,” He murmured, smiling before
lifting his eyes on the Chancellor, finding Mace looking away. One of
many Jedi looking away from an old man’s grief in respect. Not the
Chancellor though. “If you still have concerns about my teachings
of Anakin, once more, you can go to the JYP as I stated.” Qui-Gon
stated as calmly as possible.

He
could see Anakin bristle a bit, felt his smaller hand tighten on
Qui-Gon’s as he turned to the Chancellor in outrage.

But
whatever words Anakin had for the Chancellor, he bit them in much to
Qui-Gon’s pride and instead leads his old master around the
Chancellor, his face the picture of outrage still as he does.

Qui-Gon
shifts his hand a bit, away from the braid and instead to wrap around
Anakin’s, letting the boy lead him away to their own quarters.