Smoothing his hand
over the soft strands of copper hair, Qui-Gon smiled when Obi-Wan
gave a little murmur and squirmed against the couch fabric.
“Don’t wake
him, he’ll go into shock if you wake him now.” Anakin murmured,
still monitoring the Force with his eyes closed.
“I’m no
padawan myself Anakin, I know better then to pull someone out of
Force enhanced sleep until the Force settles.” Qui-Gon offered
dryly before going back to stroking the short hair. “That does not
mean I have to keep my touch off him.”
That just got him
a low snort from the blond who went back to monitoring the Force.
Since Order 66 hit
and Qui-Gon and Anakin had managed to modify it from kill to stun
orders, several Force signatures had escaped Coruscant though there
were still a large collection of them in the temple.
Qui-Gon knew the
value of balance and balked at the idea of murdering the young, his
disagreement with Palpatine loud and raging with Anakin watching the
two older men quietly before quietly reminding Qui-Gon of Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan who
officially belonged as Anakin’s padawan but had been just as much
Qui-Gon’s if unofficially.
Obi-Wan who would
never reject the Jedi teachings.
Obi-Wan who had
lost his first master at the start of the war at Geonosis.
True and steady
Obi-Wan with dancing green eyes and copper hair who was still in the
temple, would still be in the temple when the Order activated.
Obi-Wan who would die before he let his home fall, Obi-Wan who would
not hesitate to stand between a blaster and any other Jedi in the
temple.
Obi-Wan who was so
attuned to the Unifying Force that the death of so many Jedi, the
upheaval of the Force could destroy him.
They had needed to
rescue him. He needed to be kept safe.
Palpatine could be
dealt with later.
()()()
Obi-Wan stared at
the temple, thin plumes of smoke still rising even days later and
visible from the Senate District where Qui-Gon and Anakin’s
apartment rested. Or perhaps it was Amidala’s apartment?
Obi-Wan wasn’t
sure anymore though he had not seen hide nor hair of the Senator
since he woke up in the apartment with the Master’s yellow eyes on
him and the Force crying out at so much death of its chosen children.
He hadn’t seen
much of anything except the apartment really and he finally glanced
down at the ankle brace around his leg that prevented him from
leaving, a brace that either Anakin or Qui-Gon checked once a day to
ensure no tampering or faulty wires.
Cold shivers ran
through Obi-Wan’s frame and he pulled the blanket he had taken from
the couch with him out on the open veranda tighter around himself.
He had yelled at
them, he had screamed and he had cried, rejected their attempts at
comfort and eventually he had calmed down.
To many years of
teaching had told him too calm down, too many years of meditation and
lessons and the guidance of the light to keep him screaming.
Anakin had tried
to get through to him, had tried to convince him how faulty the Jedi
had become.
And yes, Obi-Wan
had agreed with that, to both Qui-Gon’s and Anakin’s surprise.
And then Obi-Wan
had started crying quiet tears that somehow seemed to hurt more then
the screaming had.
“But did that
mean you had to pull the Jedi out by the root?” He had whispered
between bitter tears before he had gone to one of the guest rooms of
the apartment to hide.
Apparently the
younglings were still alive.
The creche had
been untouched.
A small mercy.
He’d asked, with
great reluctance, what the two Sith were planning to do about it,
about the babes and the scared younglings.
Some would go
home, home to the families that wanted them.
Some would stay at
the temple, be taught by Ahsoka and oh had Obi-Wan wept even more
bitter tears when he realized his friend had been dragged into the
Dark side of the Force by the two Master’s he had so admired and
been taught by after Geonosis.
But they wouldn’t
be harmed and perhaps at this point, that was all Obi-Wan could ask
for from his gilded prison.
There was a soft
shift, the door opening, steps on the floor.
Obi-Wan had three
years of recognizing those steps and had no need for the Force or his
eyes to know who they belonged to as he kept his eyes on the plumes
of smoke even as the sunset was approaching, spreading golden rays.
He made no motion
when they stopped though, feeling eyes on him.
“…A great man
once wrote ‘The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft
interred with their bones.’” He whispered, his voice filling the
air. “I wonder how you two will be remembered once all has come to
pass. What judgment history will pass. What means you two will go to
for your goals to be meet…” He bowed his head before turning
enough to look at both Qui-Gon and Anakin. “If you’re waiting for
my indulgence, I will say it right now that there will be no
forgiving this. No amount of time can make me forget the plumes of
smoke. No amount of time will make me forget the fading screech of
the many deaths all over the galaxy.” He pushed to his feet, the
blanket left on the floor.
“No amount of
time will make me forget this betrayal. No amount of time will make
this any easier to carry.” He whispered, only a tired aching inside
of him left of emotion. “But I’ll play pretend. The Galaxy will
see its Emperor and his linage fall into place.” A humorless smile
crossed Obi-Wan’s lips.
He finally turned,
finding Qui-Gon by the pillars of the veranda and Anakin by the
touch, the blonds hands digging into the fabric of it as they both
watched Obi-Wan with those predator yellow eyes.
‘Eyes of the
Fallen.’ Obi-Wan gritted his teeth before giving a low bow. “My
lords, I live to serve.” He offered, tone mocking.
“You should know
your place by now Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon rumbled quietly.
“Indeed I do my
lords.” Obi-Wan High Coruscantian voice had a mocking lit, still in
a half bow.
“Obi-Wan, don’t
push our patience.” Anakin warned, clearly fighting against the
snarl he wanted to give the nineteen year old.
Obi-Wan took four
steps back at that until he stood at the edge of the veranda, a sick
kind of satisfaction in seeing both of their eyes widen, the way
Anakin’s mech hand tore into the couch from the force of his grip
and the way Qui-Gon’s frame had gone tense. “Or what?” He
whispered as the wind caught on his clothes and hair.
“Obi-Wan…come
back from there.” Qui-Gon murmured, taking a step towards him only
to freeze when Obi-Wan slid his left foot back until the heel of it
was off the edge.
“No time will
sooth the outrage of what you two did.” Obi-Wan whispered. “And I
may be powerless to stop you two and Force blocked but you will do
well to remember this…I am not powerless to everything.”
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