Chapter Text
Obi-Wan cannot remember the way things were before he picked up that Holocron on Kath. He doesn't remember the last time he awoke naturally and restfully without snippets of his vision plaguing his sleep. He's spent every mission secretly on edge, wondering if this would be the moment the galaxy decides to implode on itself.
Will he know when it's going to happen?
Will he be able to stop it?
When he finally meets the man from his dream on the cliffside, will he know it when he sees him?
Obi-Wan also doesn't know the last time he fell asleep without feeling anxiety claw at his throat and root itself deep in his stomach. Sometimes it's because he needs to sleep but is afraid of what he'll see. Other times it's because he doesn't want to sleep, but biology isn't giving him that option.
Most of all, he's forgotten the luxury of being ignored. A strange thing to miss, isn't it?
Qui-Gon won't leave him alone for more than a few hours without brushing against their bond to make sure he's not crumbling. The council sees him at least once a week when he's at the Temple to check in with him. To see if he's seen anything new.
The answer is always the same. It has been for the past year. Nothing is different. His adult self still looks into his soul as he warns him about the horrors of the future, and he still wakes up with tears in his eyes even though he's seen the same scenes hundreds of times.
Maybe Obi-Wan wouldn't mind how things have changed if everything else didn't stay the same.
He told the council what he'd seen. That the Jedi would go to war. That they would die. But it was like they didn't care about his vision. They didn't seem to be trying to do anything to figure out how to stop it.
"Visions are tricky, Padawan," Master Windu said one day with a bit too condescending of a tone for Obi-Wan's liking. "Sometimes trying to fix them can actually cause them to come true. What we can do is be vigilant. Listen to the Force. Trust in the Force."
Is there a polite way to tell a council member that what he's spewing is bantha shit?
"But the man in my dream. He told me we had to stop—"
"You've gone through a great ordeal," Master Koth interrupted. They always hated when he tried to bring up his other dream.
"Your mind is trying to fill in the blanks. It's understandable. It's natural. Maybe speaking with a mind healer—"
"I don't need a mind healer," Obi-Wan said coldly, and then Qui-Gon's toe lightly kicked the back of his heel, and the padawan bowed. "Apologies, Masters."
He never left those meetings feeling better.
If anyone can save the galaxy it is you, my old friend. That's what the wheezing man in the mask told him. He sounded so confident, too. Like there was nothing in him that doubted that Obi-Wan was the right person for this feat.
But what if he's wrong?
Obi-Wan wishes his dreams or meditations would take him back to that cliffside. He's tried everything to find it again but to no avail. He just wants to speak to the man again. Ask a few more questions. He'll be prepared this time. He won't hesitate.
The years pass like the metered ticks of a chrono bomb counting down. Only, Obi-Wan has no clue of what it is counting down to, or how large this bomb will be. His council check-ins dwindled until they ceased calling him in altogether when he was seventeen. Qui-Gon's aloofness also returned, but that was more of a relief as Obi-Wan became a senior padawan. Everything seemed to be returning to normal.
He's twenty-five now. A decade since the vision, but he hasn't forgotten a second. He still dreams of the Kath temple, but in the last few years, they have decreased in frequency.
Which makes their sudden return is worrisome. For this entire week, he's felt pressure in the back of his head. The ticking has grown louder, dreams every single night. The Force has pulled away like the tide receding before the tsunami.
Something is coming.
Obi-Wan's only solace is that he isn't a Jedi Master. Not yet. Though he's the right age to be knighted, the padawan hasn't pushed the subject. He was a Master in the Holocron message. The longer he remains a padawan and therefore remains a knight, the more time he has until he will be standing in front of a holo giving a warning to all surviving Jedi...
Maybe it is childish to be complacent. Most of his age-mates have been knighted, and they keep pestering him when Qui-Gon will finally recommend him. They don't understand he hasn't exactly been pushing the subject. But on the other hand, Qui-Gon has not been forthcoming with his plans to rid himself of his adult padawan.
"You're still holding on, Obi-Wan," He'll say.
— "Letting your anxieties get in the way of your trust in the Force."
— "A Jedi Knight knows how to control their fears."
— "Oh, don't tell me this is about your vision again."
The last always gets to him. Of course, it's about his vision. Shouldn't his suffering for the last decade mean something? The Force, this mysterious man, whoever is responsible obviously showed him the future for a reason.
Right?
"Obi-Wan," the voice cuts through his light meditation. The padawan opens his eyes to see Qui-Gon Jinn standing near the door of their shared quarters. "Are you ready?"
His eyes widen. "We were chosen to handle the Trade Federation blockade negotiations?"
The corner of his master's lips twitches into a small smile. "So it seems."
Obi-Wan jumps up, grabbing his cloak where it's slung over the back of the sofa. Though his mind has been muddled the past week or so, getting chosen for this important mission could be enough to lift his mood.
Qui-Gon's heart pounds as he leaps onto the ship's ramp, effectively escaping the desert fiend that came out of nowhere. He rolls onto the ground of the cargo hull, lying still for a few moments to allow his mind to catch up with the jitters tearing through his body.
The face of the horned man remains fresh within his mind. Crimson skin-- the same shade as his blade-- contoured with black tattoos that made him look even more menacing.
And his eyes. Qui-Gon's breath staggers. They were gold, and they were murderous.
The pitter-patter of quickly approaching footsteps encourages the Jedi Master to pull himself from the floor. He is sitting up by the time his twenty-five-year-old padawan comes barreling around the corner. Right at Obi-Wan's side is their newest travel companion, his wide blue eyes swirling with concern and childish bewilderment that Qui-Gon can already tell will be quite a feat to teach him to control.
"Master!" Obi-Wan drops to Qui-Gon's side, sharing certain aspects of Anakin's bewilderment. Seeing the two boys beside one another reminds him how much Obi-Wan has grown. It still feels like only a few years ago that his padawan was still toting around the youngling volume to his cheeks. Now, he looks like the young man he is. Remarkably calm, that youngling fluff giving way to the definition in his jaw and cheekbones. It's only when Obi-Wan smiles and his seriousness softens into twinkling blue-green eyes and dimples that Qui-Gon is reminded of the young part of young man. He's still in there, no matter how much Obi-Wan straightens his back and forces his face into placid neutrality.
No matter how early his innocence was shattered by the Force's fickle games.
Once the obligatory check of Qui-Gon's health has been done, Obi-Wan's face does soften. He can see the tinges of amusement in the quirk of his lips. Another stray? he seems to say with the twitch of his eyebrow as he looks at Anakin.
So much to explain. So much that has also now been complicated by the appearance of this saber-wielding Force-user. For now, he'll start with introductions.
"Anakin Skywalker," Qui-Gon says, gesturing to Obi-Wan. "meet Obi-Wan Kenobi."
"Hi!" the boy chirps, taking Obi-Wan's outstretched hand and shaking it. "You're a Jedi, too?" The padawan doesn't have time to do more than nod before Anakin is grinning. "Pleased to meet you."
Obi-Wan is obviously caught off guard by the eager youngling. Qui-Gon does not need to ask to know what's going through his dutiful head. Certainly, something to do with how the council will react to Qui-Gon bringing a nine-year-old before them.
They will all soon realize this is not just any ordinary Force-sensitive that is long overdue on being found. Qui-Gon has heard Obi-Wan's thrashing in the night. He's felt how he's on edge again, those dreams resurfacing after a long time of laying dormant. Qui-Gon had his suspicions when they walked into the Toydarian's shop to find a sunspot of the Force, but the encounter with the tattooed fiend has solidified it all.
Qui-Gon looks between the two of them. He wonders if they can also hear the way the Force is chittering with glee. He wonders if they also know this is the single most important introduction they will ever have in their lives.
Obi-Wan has felt the feeling of a Jedi returning to the Force a thousand times.
Yet somehow, when the blade strikes through the center of Qui-Gon's chest, the realization that it was his own master that dies in his vision hurts so much worse than the other thousand times he's felt it. The tsunami of the Force finally hits him, and he's drowning, blind and deaf to anything else but the agony of their bond tearing apart from the inside, and the Force saturated around him.
When his eyes clear, the Sith is staring at him with a blank expression.
Shock.
And then he folds in half—
breaks in half—
and falls down the reactor shaft.
It is done.
But his mind is bleeding, and he runs to Qui-Gon's fallen figure with tears already welling in his eyes.
He's had a decade to prepare for this moment. It was right there in front of him every time he closed his eyes.
A decade wasn't enough time.
He didn't know... he didn't know it would be...
He thought he had more time.
Obi-Wan pulls him into his arms. Tears blur his vision, and he tries to find a place to put pressure. To stop the nonexistent bleeding because it's a damned lightsaber wound, there isn't bleeding to stop.
The entire time he stares at the pale face of his master, he can only feel the weight of guilt pounding upon him.
You knew this would happen eventually.
You should have known.
You should have stopped it.
"If anyone can save the galaxy it is you, my old friend."
Obi-Wan bites back his bitterness. How can I possibly save the galaxy if I cannot even save my own master?
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon rasps. "Promise me..."
"Promise what, Master?"
"Guide the boy... He is... the one you have been looking for. The one you have to save."
As Qui-Gon lets out his last breath, Obi-Wan realizes his master is right. The Force signature is as clear as day. The same one he felt on that cliffside.
The man from his dream was Anakin.
Ten years ago, Obi-Wan stood before this council with wobbly knees and his journal clutched to his chest to reveal to them that the Jedi Order and the Republic would crumble. Now, ten years later, Obi-Wan stands before them again. Knees still wobbly, but he's gotten much better at hiding it.
"Anakin Skywalker is the one the Force was warning me about," he announces to the circle of councilors as though he's giving them the daily weather report. Their reactions are unremarkable. Stoic, as he has come to expect.
"And how have you come to this conclusion?" Master Windu asks.
"I can feel it, Masters. It all makes sense. His natural abilities with the Force make him powerful-- powerful enough to pull off whatever he did to leave that Holocron at Kath, especially if he was utilizing the Dark Side. The resurgence of the Sith is no coincidence either. My vision foretold the rise of darkness, and that is exactly what has been happening."
Master Windu leans back in his chair, gazing down at him with that intense stare. "So, Knight Kenobi," he says, making Obi-Wan flush at the mention of his new title. "What do you propose we do with him then?"
"With the permission of the council, of course, I would like to train the boy."
"Train him?" Master Yoda looks surprised.
"Obi-Wan, you're telling us this boy will grow up to bring an end to not only the Jedi Order but the Galactic Republic. And you want to train him in the ways of the Force?"
Perhaps it does sound a little silly spelling it out like that. But Obi-Wan tries to keep their attention.
"I realize this is a... non-traditional request. Perhaps even a dangerous gamble. But I know you've tested him. You know the potential of his power, especially now that he is aware of it. If we refuse to take him, the future of the Order is out of our hands completely."
Master Mundi crosses his arms. "So you are proposing for us to keep our enemies closer, in a sense?"
"Anakin Skywalker is not our enemy," Obi-Wan says with a sternness that surprises even him. Usually, he would not be so forward with the Jedi Council, but the breathy words of his dream echo in the back of his mind--"I know this will hopefully change our futures, but I do hope I still get to know you, Obi-Wan." If Anakin is truly this man, then he has gone through great trouble to prevent his own fall from ever happening. That must mean something. "He is a child that needs guidance no matter what may transpire in the future. A future that, might I point out, you all have made very clear is constantly changing."
"How can we know for sure accepting this boy to the Temple is even the right call?" Master Piell questions. "His age alone is troubling, never mind the visions and prophesy."
Obi-Wan tucks his hands into the billowing sleeves of his cloak. It hides their quiver much better. "Qui-Gon believed in him. And I believe in him, too. I will train Anakin," he says, forcing himself to meet the eyes of Master Yoda. "Without the approval of the council, if I must."
Silence falls over the council. Master Yoda's ears slowly droop down almost solemnly. Obi-Wan wonders if they are discussing telepathically.
"Your apprentice, Skywalker will be," Yoda says after the room seems to relax. The Grandmaster himself does not seem all too thrilled about this proclamation, but he offers a faint smile anyway. "But alone, you will not be."
Obi-Wan did not quite understand what Master Yoda meant by him not being alone until the training actually began. Though Anakin was Obi-Wan's padawan, the council mandated he would go through a year of private tutoring with the youngling teachers. During this time, Obi-Wan had his own studies.
While his padawan was in classes, Obi-Wan was holed up in the archives. He poured over the history of the Sith and the Dark Side of the Force. Had tea with as many masters that would have him to discuss their advice for teaching as an inexperienced knight. Obi-Wan even looked into Anakin's roots. Unlike himself who does not really remember his home before the Jedi Temple, Anakin is nine. He will remember his childhood. His time as a slave. His mother. They sent a Shadow Knight into Tatooine to free Shmi Skywalker. Obi-Wan ensured that Anakin was the one to deactivate her slave chip.
In consulting with the Mind Healers, they recommended putting Anakin into sessions to monitor his adjustment and help him process some traumas of his past. Anakin was quite receptive to the idea of getting to talk to someone for an hour straight every few days, and slowly Obi-Wan began to see the positive effects of the sessions. His temper improved significantly. Though he was still impulsive, he seemed to put more thought into it. That was also just part of his growing up.
By the time Anakin turned eleven, he finished his youngling courses and managed to catch up to many of his padawan age-mates. Enough that he could join their group classes. The other padawans took well to his kind demeanor and rebellious tendencies. Obi-Wan quite often came back to their quarters to find a hoard of padawans running amuck.
He didn't mind being the gathering place for the younglings. If anything, it was quite an ego boost whenever he walked in and they surrounded him wanting to hear stories of the missions he'd been on. Obi-Wan would make them all cups of cocoa and recount his greatest hits with Master Qui-Gon.
And Anakin was always eager to probe him on the not-so-greatest hits of his missions, which usually made Obi-Wan look quite dumb, but the kids always laughed.
As for Obi-Wan, his nightmares dwindled. They always showed back up the moment he dared to hope they might disappear forever, but their decline felt like a good thing. Like maybe he was doing something right. Maybe all the pain he felt so young-- the war, the death, the suffering-- would make the difference for the future.
Obi-Wan looks over at Anakin sprawled out on his stomach on their living space rug. He's surrounded by some datapads from the Archives and various pieces of his latest project strewn about. The twelve-year-old's once-sun bleached hair has faded darker with time-- though the end of his padawan braid is still bright blond as lasting evidence of the boy that Obi-Wan met on Queen Amidala's ship those years ago.
He's never forgotten his vision on Kath nor the dream where he encountered the mysterious future of his padawan. He thinks about it often, especially the sadness in the man's voice as he said, "you will say you've failed me, but in truth, I have failed you."
If Obi-Wan has anything to do about it, neither of them will fail each other. Not this time.