Disclaimer:  George Lucas created STAR WARS.  No copyright infringement is intended.

Notes:  This arose from musings that Obi-Wan, at age 25, is too old to be a Padawan.

This story stands alone as is, however, I may feel compelled to add further chapters in the future.
 
 

It had been five years since Qui-Gon Jinn lost his apprentice, and the pain was almost as fresh as it had been on that most nightmarish of days.  The horror still haunted him, and it was apparent just to look at his face: dull eyes, heavy lines, no sign of the spark that once lived in the great Jedi Master.

He sighed heavily, looking out over the young temple initiates in the arena before him, not really seeing any of them.  More than ever, Qui-Gon wanted to leave this place and embark on another solo mission, something he had become exceedingly good at in recent years.  He had no desire to take on another padawan.  None whatsoever.  Qui-Gon knew it would only end in disaster again.

But Yoda was sitting beside him, threatening to keep him planet bound for months unless he at least looked at the young students.  There was a sage expression on the green one's face as he too surveyed the spectacle below them.  Pairs of students fought with their lightsabers, trying their hardest to impress the masters who were watching.

Almost against his will, Qui-Gon found his eyes drawn to a pair of young men duelling in the centre of the arena.  One was much taller, yet they seemed equally matched, fighting with an intensity quite above that of their peers.  There was no doubt that both were strong in the Force - but how could one ever be sure they&nbssp; would remain in the Light side?  How could Qui-Gon ever be sure that they were safe?

"Trust in the Force," Yoda advised, perhaps picking up on his sudden interest.  Qui-Gon scowled.  He refused to look at the pair again, even as he felt his interest being drawn back to the floor, to the shorter of the boys, the one with golden hair and a laughing smile when he abruptly gained the upper hand against his opponent.  The boy whirled and spun, and suddenly there was no doubt that he was one with the light side of the Force; he was almost dancing with his lightsaber and a wondrous spectacle to behold.

No, he would not watch!  A pang shot through Qui-Gon's heart; the boy's motion wasn't familiar yet it was intently so at the same time, the attitude, the charisma, the things he missed so much and he could only rage at himself for being so damn careless and as a result, losing his padawan.

Qui-Gon leapt to his feet and, ignoring Yoda's outraged protests, strode out of the hall.  He was a frightening figure, countenance so stern, and no one dared oppose his passage as he stormed back to his quarters.  Once inside, he sank into his favourite chair and placed his head in his hands.  Feeling so alone.  But knowing that he did not dare take another padawan.  Too much was at stake, the future of a potential Jedi.  He would not lose another.

Even though something inside him yearned for it.  The part of his mind, long empty of the training bond, was dead, cut off so abruptly several years ago.  Qui-Gon knew that as long as he lived, he would never forget that day, or the days that followed, the fear which turned into horror and then a deep depression when nothing could be done except accept the truth of what had happened.  And try and move on.  Missions, endless missions, doing the work of the Council in an attempt to distract him from the past.

Yet despite all of that, Qui-Gon still missed him.  And by now he was accepting that he always would.  Perhaps Yoda was right, perhaps he should take on another padawan.  But not yet, he wasn't quite ready.

He closed his eyes, and the image of the initiates sprung into his mind.  The boy, the star of the arena....

...and there was a tingle in the back of Qui-Gon's mind.  The faintest brush, the most distant of sensations, yet there was no belaying the fact that it was there, in the place of the training bond, and Qui-Gon's eyes snapped open in a mixture of wonder and outrage.

A bond?  Already?  It wasn't possible, he didn't even know the boy's name, and he'd be damned if he'd be forced into taking another padawan without making a conscious decision.  Qui-Gon wasn't ready for this and as he fought against the bond, he felt it slipping away, diminishing into almost nothingness.  Which was good.  When only the tiniest of flickers remained, Qui-Gon got to his feet and sought out Yoda.  Despite the joy the revival of that part of his mind brought to him, he would not take another apprentice.  Because the apprentice would be doomed.

"Master, I-" Qui-Gon began, sinking to his knees, but Yoda immediately interrupted him, a smile creeping over the wizened face.

"Sense it, I do," he almost chuckled.  "The beginnings of a bond you have."

"I do not want this!" burst out Qui-Gon in response.  "And today, of all days!  It is sacrilegious to his memory!"

Yoda hobbled forward until he stood almost eye to eye with his former student.  "Today?"

"Yes, today.  It is five years today since I lost him.  He would have been twenty-one.  He would have almost been a Jedi."

Shaking his head, Yoda sighed.  "You mourn him still."

"Of course I mourn him, Yoda.  He was the brightest student I had ever seen.  The Force flowed through him, he was filled with light and laughter and..." Qui-Gon's voice threatened to break, "...he brought more joy into my life than I ever thought possible.  He was my best friend."

Yoda grunted.  "Let go, you must." A comforting hand reached out to touch Qui-Gon's forehead, sending the vaguest images and suggestions, suggestions which Qui-Gon violently objected to.  A vision of a memorial ceremony, to formally lay Obi-Wan Kenobi to rest.

"I refuse to believe that he is dead!" Qui-Gon burst out, his heart aching.  He'd rejected such a ceremony time and time again, always wanting to hold on to the hope that his apprentice would someday return.

"No other explanation is there," Yoda said sadly.

"But I did not sense his death!" protested Qui-Gon.  His eyes closed, the memories of that terrible day flooding back once again.  There had been no warning.  Nothing.  Just a growing terror and horror that would never leave him.

He had been in meetings with the Council for most of the day, giving Obi-Wan the rare day off, even as both of them had known that Obi-Wan would spend most of the day in training anyway.  He was the best young man Qui-Gon had ever known.

The Council meeting room had  Force shielded, as it was when matters of utmost secrecy were discussed.  As a result, Obi-Wan's bond with his master had been blocked for most of the day.  And when Qui-Gon exited the chambers, somehow, he had forgotten to actively look for it.

By the time he'd realised the bond was dormant, it was late evening and Obi-Wan had not returned to their quarters as expected.  Surmising that perhaps Obi-Wan was in a Force-shielded area, Qui-Gon had attempted to contact him on his communications device.  No answer.  Nor was there an answer from the libraries, or the training arenas, or anywhere that Qui-Gon quickly contacted to locate his apprentice.

Not that he was panicking just yet.  He trusted Obi-Wan, and what could possibly happen to a Jedi on Coruscant, home of the most talented Jedi in the galaxy?  Besides, Qui-Gon reassured himself, he sensed no pain along their bond.  Not even the fuzziness of unconsciousness.  And there certainly wasn't the searing pain that would have resulted if Obi-Wan was dead.

There was just nothing.  Emptiness.  As if Obi-Wan had not just vanished out of Qui-Gon's life, it was as if he had never existed.

And when he realised that, Qui-Gon began to get extremely worried indeed.  He raced through the temple, then the gardens, then the surrounding area, madly asking every person if they had seen Obi-Wan at all that day.  Many had, and Qui-Gon was eventually able to reconstruct Obi-Wan's last day.

Lightsaber practice with Bant.  Time spent in the library researching a project Qui-Gon had given him.  Lunch.  Then presumably meditation for several hours, until he had gone out into the gardens about mid-afternoon.

After that, no one had seen him.  Qui-Gon searched the gardens time and time again, both physically and using the Force, but always, there was nothing.  Even if Obi-Wan had been taken against his will there should have been some sign, or sense of a struggle.  Anything.  Growing more frantic with each passing hour, Qui-Gon roused the entire Jedi Council from their beds to help him search as the hours of the night turned into dawn.

No trace of Obi-Wan Kenobi was ever found.

But to the present day, Qui-Gon refused to believe he was dead, even after so long had passed.  Even as each long day had turned into a week, or a month, and the investigation was called off, no evidence or motive ever being found.  Even when Obi-Wan's name was taken off the assignment roster.  Even when Yoda suggested Qui-Gon remove Obi-Wan's things from their quarters and pack them away.

Qui-Gon had refused to do this.  The door to Obi-Wan's room remained closed, but inside it was intact, right down to the hastily made bed and datapad thrown on top of it.

And that, in part, was another reason Qui-Gon could not take on a new apprentice.  Accepting a new padawan meant that Obi-Wan was truly gone; and that was almost enough of a reason within itself.

Yoda sighed heavily, picking up on Qui-Gon's thoughts easily.  "A tragedy it was," he agreed, "but insist I must that you move on.  Already, the Force has willed that take on a new apprentice you shall."

"But what if I doom him as well?" Qui-Gon asked, more to himself than Yoda.  "I have already lost two."

"And how many do you think I have lost?" returned Yoda, exasperated.  "Happens, it does.  Accept the will of the Force, we do, and move on."  He harrumphed.  "I move on.  You must too."

Qui-Gon bowed his head, recognising the truth behind Yoda's words, and the pain.  Even Yoda, the greatest of them all, had lost apprentices during his 800 years of training them.  Perhaps it was time for him to begin over.

"I will listen to the Force, Master," Qui-Gon acquiesced, again feeling the faint tingling in his mind.  "But it will take time."

"Have time you do," Yoda said, "but that boy down there is waiting."

"I shall consider it."

Yoda managed one more heavy sigh before turning from Qui-Gon and shuffling back to his chair.  Qui-Gon took this as a signal to leave and did so, bowing low before he left.

His mind was whirling as he walked down the corridors, wondering if Yoda's advice had done him any good.  It seemed the new bond was not to be denied.  But how could he accept it?

Perhaps it was time to put the past behind him.  Time to stop hoping and accept the truth.  His heart heavy with loss, but a spring in his footsteps, Qui-Gon returned to the arena where the children still played.  Suddenly he had a reason to go on.

Qui-Gon greeted Mace Windu with a smile, and the surprise on Mace's face was obvious.

"Has it truly been so long since I smiled?" Qui-Gon asked him and Mace nodded gravely in response.

"It is good to see you here, Qui-Gon," Mace said, subtly conveying much more with the message.  "Would you like to meet the students?"

"Yes, I think I should like that very much."  Mace led him over to the master's area where they could converse quietly for a moment before formal introductions were made.  The Council member pointed out several promising students to Qui-Gon and Qui-Gon found himself really listening for once, despite the fact that his attention was drawn to the blonde boy who reminded him a little of Obi-Wan.

"Ca-Bral Randis," said Mace, finally giving him a name.  "He is the most promising student we have seen for years.  Many masters are intersted in taking Ca-Bral as a padawan, but I feel he is still a little young.  He is only ten."

"He carries himself with the authority of one much older," Qui-Gon noted.

"Yes," Mace quietly agreed, shooting an intent look at Qui-Gon which Qui-Gon ignored.

"I believe you said something about introductions?"

The two masters left the safety of their area and joined the students who had just completed their levitation exercises.  "Good afternoon," Mace said.  "I would like to introduce you to Master Qui-Gon Jinn, who has been offworld for several months."

A chorus of polite responses reached Qui-Gon's ears and he smiled at the children, his eyes on Ca-Bral and his friends.  "I would like to spend time with you all," he said.  "Would you show me what you were doing?"

Throughout the rest of the afternoon, Qui-Gon immersed himself in the childrens' exercises as masters often did when they were seeking a new padawan, or just getting to know the temple initiates.  A master was always welcome, as he could teach them many things they did not fully understand.

Qui-Gon kept a subtle eye on Ca-Bral the whole time, not wanting to single the boy out, but carefully assessing his abilities and his interaction with the others.  There was no doubt that Ca-Bral was special.  However, Qui-Gon did not dare to reach into the beginnings of the bond in his own mind, because Ca-Bral was completely unaware of it and Qui-Gon refused to accelerate the process until the time was right.

As the afternoon drew to a close, a small girl crept closer to Qui-Gon with a shy smile on her face.  "Thank you, Master Qui-Gon.  It was fun this afternoon," she said softly, before reaching forward and embracing him tightly.  As the small arms slipped around him Qui-Gon smiled.  He had missed this, the simple closeness of another person, and the innocent love of a child.  He returned the hug gently, saying, "I was honoured to be with you all."

"Will you come again?" Jessi-myn, the little girl, asked.

"You can be sure of it," promised Qui-Gon, his eyes on Ca-Bral.  Ca-Bral steadily smiled back.

And Qui-Gon left the training rooms with a the hints of a grin on his face, light in his eyes.  So long he had been closed away from everyone, yet a little girl had broken down his defences so easily.  Qui-Gon realised how much fun he'd had with the children, it was something so different from what he'd done for the past few years.  Obi-Wan used to encourage him to spend time with the temple initiates, but Obi-Wan was gone.

And Qui-Gon resolutely put that thought out of his head, concentrating instead on the future, and the promise of bringing up one special person in the Force.  His search was over.  It was time for life.

He dined with the masters that evening and was heartened to see Jessi-Myn smiling and waving at him, and Ca-Bral gave him a respectful nod from across the room.  Yoda obviously sensed Qui-Gon's mood change and gave him an approving glance.

"You were right, my master," Qui-Gon acquiesed.  "I have been wallowing in the past.  I shall endeavour to focus on the moment from now on, the moment which shall lead to the future."

"Good," Yoda granted, and nothing more on the matter was said.  For the first time in what seemed forever, Qui-Gon laughed with the other masters, enjoying the tales of their padawans' mishaps instead of resenting them.  Soon, perhaps, he could add his own stories to theirs.

And the tingle in Qui-Gon's mind repeatedly brought a fresh smile to his face.  He could not deny it, he felt alive again.

He could not go back to his quarters that night, they were dull, filled with ghosts and memories, and so he went to the gardens, to think.  He had a lot to consider; it was impossible that his life could turn around in one day but it was certainly the beginning of something new.

Qui-Gon paused at the gardens' entrance and inhaled deeply, detecting the sweet sense of jasmine mixed with the sultry fragrance of a warm night.  This was one of the most beautiful places on Coruscant, and deeply in tune with the Force.  Peace could be found in here.

His feet found a familiar path and he wandered, quietly, silently, revelling in the quiet made possible by shields around the area.  It wasn't dark, for that was near-impossible on Coruscant given the amount of illumination from both the orbiting ships and the moons, however, it was most certainly night.  A night to embrace, a night to revel in.

He wandered through the wooded area and came to a clearing, pausing to study the night-blossoming Itini flower.  The smell was heavenly and he breathed it deeply, accepting, living in the moment.  He was dully aware of the tallness of the trees behind him, and the edge of the park before him.  Children played there during the day, on the swings and the slides and the "castle", but for now, it was silent.

And there was a man sitting on the swing.

Qui-Gon froze.  His eyes were rivited to that spot, the tall figure with his back to Qui-Gon sitting comfortably, arms holding the ropes, feet trailing in the sand as he rocked backwards and forwards.

The longish golden-red hair, highlighted by the nightly glow.  The braid trailing over the back shoulder.  The cloak, clearly three sizes too small, stretching over his back.

And the sound of his breathing, or was that his beating heart, or was it Qui-Gon's own that Qui-Gon was hearing?

Qui-Gon stared, refusing to believe what he was seeing, refusing to hope, refusing to accept the knowledge that every part of his body was screaming was true.  He should turn, close his eyes, and the apparition would disappear, it was nothing more than a cruel trick of the light.

But his heart was singing and the tingle in his mind was bursting into full bloom and Qui-Gon suddenly recognised what it was.  The bond.  It wasn't with the temple initiate whose name Qui-Gon could no longer remember.  It was with the person who sat, unaware, before him.

Half petrified, half overjoyed, Qui-Gon took a tentative step forward.  If this was an illusion he didn't want to destroy it.  But he had to speak, he had to say something.  As he opened his mouth, Qui-Gon realised he was trembling and the words would not come.

A step forward, and then another, the soft crunching of his footsteps on the grass had to reach the ears of the man on the swing, didn't it?  If only he would turn, if only he could see the face, those eyes, to know that it wasn't a phantom.

And he turned.

And Qui-Gon looked into those familiar blue-green eyes and felt his heart stop.

And Obi-Wan stood and walked over to him, steadying him with a firm grip on his arms and the universe was right again.

"Hello, Master," Obi-Wan said softly, formally.

A thousand questions raced through Qui-Gon's mind.  Where have you been?  Are you all right?  How did you get back?  When did you come back?  Are you real?  Why did you leave?

But in the end, he could say nothing of this, only managing to enfold Obi-Wan into his arms and murmer, "Padawan."

Obi-Wan awkwardly accepted the hug and Qui-Gon reflected how different he felt.  Five years ago a boy had gone missing and now, a man had returned.  Obi-Wan was much taller and had gained a sturdy, muscular frame.  No longer gawky, he was a beautiful young man and even as he recognised that, Qui-Gon felt a flood of confusion.  It was Obi-Wan back, but was it his Obi-Wan?  Or was it a strangely different person in a familiar form?

Finally, Qui-Gon felt strong enough to let go, but still he trembled and nothing could stop the pounding of his heart.  He was too old for a shock like this...

"You are not old, Master," Obi-Wan said easily, and then Qui-Gon froze with the surprise of the old bond being restored so quickly.  It didn't make sense, none of it made sense, because for the past five years there had been nothing in his mind!

Qui-Gon stared at Obi-Wan and his former apprentice stared back at him.  Obi-Wan's eyes were open wide with confusion as he seemed to take in Qui-Gon's appearance, and then his own, for the first time.  One hand tugged uselessly at a sleeve which was far too short for his arm.

"I-" Obi-Wan began, and then seemed lost for words.  He looked around at the gardens in bewilderment.  "You-"

"Obi-Wan, tell me," Qui-Gon finally found his voice.  "How do you feel?"

"I feel fine," he answered, slowly, deliberately.  "But I am very confused."  He swayed slightly and Qui-Gon took Obi-Wan's hands in his own, the contact providing an anchor for both of them.  "How is it that I come to be here?"

Qui-Gon sighed.  "I was hoping you could answer that question for me.  Obi-Wan, where have you been?"

The gaze that met his was empty, lost and frightened.  "Nowhere," he said softly.  And then he frowned, closing his eyes.  "I have been away," Obi-Wan realised.  His grip on Qui-Gon's fingers strengthened.  "But there is nothing in my mind - Master, it's nothing but an empty black hole!"  His voice rose, desperate, so frightened and again Qui-Gon pulled him forward into a comforting embrace.  One hand rubbed up and down Obi-Wan's back as Obi-Wan buried his face in Qui-Gon's shoulder, and Qui-Gon could feel how very very scared Obi-Wan was.

"It will be all right, Padawan," he soothed, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Obi-Wan's head and reflecting that even that gesture was now different.  "I am here for you.  Together, we will find out what has happened, but for now, rest assured that you are safe."

Yet with the icy feeling that settled over his heart, Qui-Gon found that he could not yet believe it.

---
End.

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