Disclaimer: The song, "Herald's Lament" belongs to Mercedes Lackey, and the characters all belong to George Lucas and LFL. No infringment intended, all credit goes where credit is due.
Obi-Wan strode listlessly through the dark hallways of the Palace in Theed, sleep evading him for the third night in a row. His body was exhausted to the point of collapse, but sleep was little comfort when it offered nothing but the chance to repeatedly relive the death of Qui-Gon. Every time he closed his eyes, guilt rose up to greet him, bringing with it the image that was forever etched into his mind.
Blinking away the tears that always followed such thoughts, Obi-Wan made a sharp turn and walked towards the garden, intending to seek solace in nature. He desperately wanted to talk, desperately needed to talk--but who could he talk to? The person in whom he had confided all of his problems since the age of fourteen was gone.
Settling down next to the fountain, Obi-Wan stared up at the stars, smiling slightly at the thought of how different his destiny would be if he hadn't fought so hard to win the approval of Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon had certainly tried to refuse him, but Obi-Wan wouldn't allow it. He'd followed the older man everywhere, his every action begging for approval. He had done everything in his power to make Qui-Gon see that he had what it took to be a Jedi, and had finally succeeded in making his dreams come true . . .
. . .only to lose it all with one thrust of a red blade. He had lost his father, brother, teacher and friend. Everyone around him had tried to reach out, fumbling to show their sympathy, but there had always been only one person who always knew what to say to him. One person who could always reach out a hand and help Obi-Wan whenever he stumbled . . .
A hand settled gently on Obi-Wan's shoulder, interrupting his thoughts, and he looked up to see one of Queen Amidala's handmaidens standing next to him.
"Perhaps I can listen," she said softly, sitting down next to him gracefully. She was still dressed in her yellow handmaiden's gown, having only recently finished attending Amidala for the day. Obi-Wan was unsure which one she was, but she solved his problem by holding out a delicate hand. "I am Rabe."
"Obi-Wan," he responded, taking her hand and brushing the knuckles with his lips.
"You were supposed to shake my hand, Obi-Wan Kenobi," Rabe said with a smile, "not kiss it. You have too much of a gentleman in you."
"My Master would have disagreed with you there," Obi-Wan said, with a hint of a smile. The usual tears formed in his eyes when he spoke of Qui-Gon, but he was used to them now.
"Why don't you talk with me about your Master, Obi-Wan?" Rabe said, reaching up a hand to brush away a tear. "I like to listen to people. I listen to her Highness all of the time, and I would venture to say that I am rather good at it."
"I just don't know where to begin," Obi-Wan said helplessly.
"Begin at the beginning, of course."
And that he did.
He soars with falcons on the wing
He is the song that nightbirds sing
Death never dared him captive keep
He lies not there he does not sleep
--Mercedes Lackey
“Herald’s Lament”
Heralds, Harpers, and Havoc
"He would always tell me to be mindful of the living Force," Obi-Wan said, tears running unheeded down his cheeks. "I was always focused on the future, on what was going to happen. He would make fun of me, because things could happen in front of us and I wouldn't even notice. I was always looking ahead."
Rabe had spoken the truth when she told Obi-Wan that she was a good listener. She always seemed to know when to say something, and when to let him sit in silence, gathering his thoughts.
She sensed that he needed a response, and gave one. "Balance is something that we always strive for, but rarely achieve. You put your emphasis on thinking, your Master on feeling."
"I can feel him now," Obi-Wan said softly. "He is one with the Force, the living Force. I can feel him everywhere--in the wind that brushes through my hair, in the birds that sing, even when the sun touches my face--it all has his feeling."
Rabe stayed silent, letting Obi-Wan finish what he was obviously struggling to express.
"It's like he's not d--" the word choked in his throat, and he swallowed hastily. "Like he's not gone. Sometimes I think I can hear him laughing at me. He was always too big for death. He was too big for life."
"Aren't we all?" Rabe said softly, grasping Obi-Wan's hand gently in her own. "None of us fit in the space that was allotted us. I think that is why we humans find life so troubling. We have all of these emotions, and they won't stay hidden inside of us. We are too big for ourselves."
The cry of a nightbird shattered the still silence of the night, and two pairs of eyes lifted as one to watch the large bird wing lazily across the garden.
"Everything, no matter how trivial, reminds me of him." Obi-Wan said softly, watching as the bird flew out of the garden. "It reminds me that I'm alone."
Yet there is silence at my side
That haunts the place he used to ride
And my companions can’t allay
The loss I have sustained this day
--Mercedes Lackey
“Herald’s Lament”
Heralds, Harpers, and Havoc
"It's almost eerie," Obi-Wan said. "It doesn't matter where I am, I can feel him walking just behind me. As if he's watching me."
"If he is, I'm sure he is proud of you," Rabe responded, her hand still clenched tightly in his.
"I haven't behaved as I should. I should be with Anakin right now, sharing his grief and helping him come to terms with his new life." Obi-Wan sighed, staring down at his hands where they were entwined with Rabe's in his lap. "I have not treated the boy as I should have."
"It is hard to put aside one's own grief to share that same grief with another," Rabe said. "You suffer greatly from the loss of your Master, and Anakin suffers from the loss of a friend. While many emotions are meant to be shared with those who feel the same, grief is not always one of them."
"But I feel I should do something," Obi-Wan protested. "There has to be some way I can help him."
"Is there anyway that he can help you?" Rabe pointed out logically.
"It's not the same thing. I'm a grown man, and he's just a boy."
"When you have lost someone so dear, there is little anyone can do to take the pain away, Obi-Wan. You have to find the strength inside to make things change."
Obi-Wan stared back into the eyes of the young handmaiden, unable to think of a response.
How bleak the future now has grown
That I must face it all alone
My road is weary dark and deep
And it is for myself I weep
--Mercedes Lackey
“Herald’s Lament”
Heralds, Harpers, and Havoc
"I feel empty," Obi-Wan said. "There should be something--some feeling, some emotion--inside me. Instead, there's nothing. It's not the grief that saddens me; I know that Qui-Gon wouldn't want me to feel sad. It's the knowledge that I have to continue on--I don't have to option to quit. I have to keep going, without the man who has made me what I am."
"But he prepared you for your future," Rabe pointed out. "You knew that you would part eventually, and that time must have been fast approaching."
"Yes, but it shouldn't have happened like this!" Obi-Wan exploded, his hands clenching on Rabe's so tightly that she winced. "He should have been there when I passed the Trials, should have been the one who cut the braid out of my hair. There are so many things that he should have shared with me, and now I have to do it alone."
"Not alone," Rabe said. "Not nearly alone. You have friends, you have other Jedi, and you have a little boy who looks up to you and cares for you. You have a bright future ahead of you."
"Then why does it seem so dark?" Obi-Wan asked.
"Because you haven't looked beyond the darkness yet. You only see the life you will have to live alone. You haven't thought about those who will come later to share it with you."
"How did you become so wise?" Obi-Wan asked finally, staring at the young girl sitting across from him. Rabe gave a slight smile, half hidden by the shadow cast by the hood of her robe.
"I, too, have known loss. I know that there is nothing one can do to fill in the emptiness--but it helps to have someone who can listen." Rabe lifted a hand to pull the hood off of her head, revealing her eyes to him for the first time. "I hope I have helped; Obi-Wan Kenobi."
The smile he gave her was answer enough--a smile that was, for the first time since Qui-Gon's death, devoid of sadness. He lifted Rabe's hands gently up to his lips and brushed a gentle kiss against them.
"You have helped me more than you can possibly imagine."
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