thesaurus | ITT: SAD JEDI

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!caitlin,
#ic

ITT: SAD JEDI

Obi-Wan stood behind the little hovel he called home, tending to Rooh-the-eopie. He watched the first of the two suns sink below the horizon, halving the amount of light that bathed the desert. Dusk was here, and soon so would night, and so too would the bad dreams arrive: the images of terrified younglings and friends dying. But he closed his eyes against the early onslaught of thoughts. There was no need to let them plague him before their time; if he let them take him at any moment at all then there was no way that he could go on.

Opening his eyes, he stroked Rooh's snout carefully, calming her as she became restless. He made sure she was secured, fed and watered, then he moved onto her son, Tooh. Tooh wasn't big enough yet to be ridden, but that was alright. When he took Ferus to Mos Eisley they could walk and he would lead the eopies with them. He could ride Rooh home, or pick up some supplies and have her carry them. But the walk there would be good for them all, he thought.

Ferus Olin was inside the hut, taking care of whatever would pass for dinner that night. It wouldn't be long now before they parted ways, before Ferus took his leave to Alderaan, but for now the company was something of a comfort. Ferus was family, though they hardly got along perfectly. Ferus mouthed off, for one thing, and questioned Obi-Wan regularly. It was a little like having Anakin--

Obi-Wan stopped his thoughts again, patting Tooh and straightening up. Ferus wasn't Anakin. He never would be. But he had come closer to becoming Anakin than either of them dared talk about.

For now there was much pain for both of them.

He stood on the hill, looking east, toward the Lars homestead in the far distance. He waited for the second sun to set and wondered. He wished he could reach out with the Force to Luke, check that all was well, but he couldn't connect to him. Shouldn't, even if he could.

It was lonely in the desert, so far from everything, even with Ferus there. In some ways, Obi-Wan thought, more so because Ferus was there, comfort or not. They had both lost so much: friends, family, purpose. More than Obi-Wan could bear, he thought some days. But now they were guardians of the galaxy's hope. It would be a long, difficult job, but Obi-Wan would shoulder that burden. He only hoped that Ferus could too. He didn't know how the young man was coping. Obi-Wan barely knew how he was coping.

The sun finally disappeared, leaving him in relative darkness before the stars began to twinkle into life. He turned his chin up to the sky, searching for familiar constellations he would never find from this remote planet. He had never paid much attention to Tatooine in the past, even knowing it was Anakin's homeworld. It wasn't as if it should have mattered. But a remarkable amount of the galaxy seemed to orbit around this little planet on the outer rim.

And here they were, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Ferus Olin. Two men, stripped of everything, almost ready to say goodbye. How long would they need to hold together before peace returned?

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The smile that Obi-Wan gave Ferus in response to that was small, thin, but fond enough. He cared deeply for Siri's memory--they both did, and it was comforting to have someone to share that with. To know that someone else important to Siri still lived and found her memory precious.

"We will," he agreed with a slight incline of his head, not so downcast as Ferus. "I am certain she would appreciate it in her way. So long as we do not mourn her too much."

Ferus was feeling that too, the sense of comfort in sharing these thoughts and feelings with someone who had known his Master. He'd talked about her before, to Roan and others - mostly after he'd found out about her death and had had to work through the loss of her once more - but of course they hadn't known her, hadn't understood the Master-Padawan bond or the Jedi in general.

So he smiled back in kind, then looked off again, into the distance. Thought about how any Jedi would put it: she's one with the Force. His views on death weren't so simple anymore, but when it came to Siri, he couldn't put it any other way.

"Sure. She'd say to go on and make things happen." Paraphrased, of course, but it was the mentality he'd known and loved despite his own too-cautious view. Voice dropping again into something quieter, he admitted, "I've mourned her twice. It's more than enough. But sometimes I miss her guidance. Her certainty."

"Exactly," Obi-Wan agreed with a slight nodded and another small smile. He thought again about what he'd said about her the night before: that she would have hated this, this waiting. She would have. She would have disliked knowing that Obi-Wan was biding his time, not fighting still.

But she would also have respected him, let him do his duty. She understood that. Duty, especially.

Obi-Wan softly said, "I miss a great deal about her. She was brave and kind. For all she and I could conflict, she was dear to me and I will always miss that, no matter if I should." Perhaps it wasn't the Jedi way, but it would be his way.

Smiling slightly, he looked back to Obi-Wan, something perhaps a touch dry or teasing in his expression. "The Jedi way doesn't hold all the answers, does it?"

Because that's pretty much what Obi-Wan had just said - that he'd disregard part of the teachings in favour of her memory. Ferus understood that. Would, in fact, encourage it.

The Jedi path was one he'd found himself on again only recently, after having been firmly off it for many years. There were parts of the Jedi way of life that would always remain with him, and that he would always return to, but there were several things he'd lost patience for and no longer understood.

This was maybe something of a gray area. But nonetheless, there was something a little satisfying in hearing Obi-Wan disagree with something, however small.

Obi-Wan frowned at Ferus's teasing and was, for a very potent moment, tempted to remain entirely silent to once again express his disapproval for Ferus's bluntness. Obi-Wan, after all, was Jedi Master and to imply that he did not follow the Jedi Code...

But of course, in this particular instance, Ferus wasn't wrong. And Obi-Wan had all but said as much already, it was true.

So while he gave his companion a stern look for the comment, he at least replied.

"That's not entirely what I meant," he corrected, but his voice was soft enough, given the subject matter. "But yes, I am aware this is unconventional. Still, it is the path that helped me reconcile what happened to her and to move on. She would have been disappointed otherwise."

They had both, after all, sworn their lives to the Code.

Ferus' smile disappeared with Obi-Wan's answer, and something softer and vulnerable came over him when he turned his head away again. He nodded that he'd heard and understood, but he wasn't sure what to say and how else to acknowledge that.

It still felt like such an impossibility to move on. He always hurt. Everything always hurt, and it wasn't just Roan. It was Trever, it was Ry-Gaul and Garen and Solace, and it was the sixty something lives lost on that asteroid. And he wasn't a Jedi any longer. He didn't know what to do with the guilt and anxiety he felt.

He took a breath, tried to let those feelings go.

"You're right", he said after a moment. "She would have."

Watching Ferus, Obi-Wan's own demeanour softened further. He inclined his head a moment before he stepped closer to his friend and reached out to take each of his shoulders in his hands. He sought out Ferus's eyes with his own, frowning slightly but still gentle.

"Whether or not you can use the Code the same way," he said softly, "I have no shortage of faith in you, Ferus. You will find your answers, sooner or later."

And he would be there to provide those that he could.

Swallowing, Ferus met Obi-Wan's eyes somewhat reluctantly, aware of how lost he felt and how much Obi-Wan would be able to tell. He didn't like this feeling, this mix of confusion and guilt and heartbreak. He'd felt it so strongly before, some years ago when he'd left, and it had taken him so long to get through. He hadn't wanted to ever experience that again.

And here he was, and Obi-Wan was looking out for him, but something about what he was saying just didn't sit right because Ferus could only think about how Obi-Wan didn't know the whole truth.

He'd been so close to the dark side.

He knew he was dwelling and that it wasn't the Jedi way, but he couldn't stop thinking about it, just as little as he could stop thinking about the rest of it.

"I hope so", he said quietly. The grip on his shoulders was reassuring and centering, but he felt disturbed still, off-balance. He swallowed again. "But I fear for what those answers might be."

Obi-Wan nodded slightly at Ferus's concerns, but he didn't remove his hands or retract his gaze. He squeezed his shoulders lightly, hoping to keep him there, with him. There were many dark and lonely places that Ferus's mind could go, and Obi-Wan wished to prevent that in what ways that he could.

But he also understood Ferus's fears, at least to an extent. Maybe not the specifics, but some of it. Obi-Wan feared, in some ways, for his own answers and solutions. To decide what his role really had been in the fate of the galaxy.

He thought back to something he had said to Anakin, once, when Anakin had still been his Padawan. He felt guilty for drawing the comparison once more, but he hoped that these words of wisdom might do Ferus some good. He was not so sure that they had done anything for Anakin.

"We may not always like the answers we find, Ferus," he said seriously. "Especially not those to do with ourselves, or that we find within. But what is more important than the answers themselves is what we choose to do with them."

He took a deep, steadying breath, feeling the conflict twisting sharply inside him. Obi-Wan was sincere, gentle but firm, and had he been a Padawan still, the words would have been reassuring. But that was because back then he had been startlingly innocent. Despite the battles and missions and death - he hadn't known much about life. Not the real kind.

Not the kind that changes you.

And now he was irreversibly changed in ways he hadn't expected, and in some ways that he desperately didn't want.

That's what he'd found within, was the thing. The capacity for something writhing and dark. And despite the anxiety clawing at the inside of his chest he realized that if he didn't come clean, he might not make it again. Not without anything else to hold onto.

It still took him an immense effort to say it, though. His eyes were darting between Obi-Wan's as he forced himself to form the words, feeling like he was speaking through water. "I made the wrong choice."

Obi-Wan's first instinct was to remind him he was still alive, still choosing and still moving forward. Having made the wrong choice--or even multiple wrong choices--did not necessarily end things. Ferus could still walk the path of good and make the right choices.

But that would have been impatient of him to say, to insist on it when he did not, in truth, know what had happened. He had seen the darkness in Ferus, had seen much of the toll it had taken on him, but he did not know in truth what those choices were or what had happened to him.

So while he loosened his grip, made himself gentler, he did not let go of Ferus's shoulders and gently prompted him instead.

"What happened?"

Ferus wanted to look away, wanted to step out of Obi-Wan's grip, but he forced himself to remain where he stood. Hands on his shoulders. Eyes on his. He needed to face this. Needed to ignore his racing heart, the way his hands were shaking slightly. He balled them into fists. Took another breath.

"I let Palpatine teach me."

It caught to say. He was choking on the words, on the immense darkness inside him. But he was telling the truth, righting a lie. He could only hope that Obi-Wan wouldn't turn away from him.

Obi-Wan had steeled himself for whatever it was that Ferus would tell him, but he wasn't sure what to expect. He took a deep breath when Ferus said it, nodding slowly and closing his eyes for only a moment. But he certainly didn't pull away, and he certainly didn't turn away from him.

He hadn't been sure, when Ferus had said that the Emperor had not been working on him, how much truth there was in that. He had been concerned, worried for how Palpatine had worked on Anakin for years. How Obi-Wan had failed to stop the worst from happening.

Ferus had been under Palpatine's sway. He had been in great danger. His choices had been dangerous ones, driven by all that could have led him astray. And yet...

"And yet here you are," he said softly as he opened his eyes again, searching Ferus's face once more. "That was not the only choice that you made."

"It was the last choice I made", he said sharply, and this time did take a step back, creating distance between himself and Obi-Wan that he didn't actually want but for the moment suddenly needed.

He couldn't make sense of his own thoughts. He wanted the support, the reassurance. Yet he suddenly despised it when he got it. Because it was misguided, maybe. Because Obi-Wan didn't understand, yet spoke like he did, like he held the answers. But there were no excuses for Ferus' failings, and he didn't want to hear them. Didn't want Obi-Wan to look past them when they were still there.

Still so close to the surface. So close. Even now.

Reeling slightly from the chaos in his head, he stood firm from his new position nonetheless; tense, but shaking slightly.

Obi-Wan dutifully let go of Ferus when his companion stepped back from him, angrily going against the Jedi Master's words. He folded his arms over his chest, disapprovingly, frowning at Ferus.

"Not so," he disagreed, firmly but kindly. "You have continued to shape your path since then. Even now, you are choosing what to tell me and shaping your destiny through your actions."

He dropped his arms back to his sides and said, more insistently, "I'm not saying that you have not made mistakes Ferus. You should have told me before what he was trying to do to you. You should have left his side sooner. But you are correcting your mistakes now."

It was more than a mistake. It was a failing, a character flaw, something that couldn't be amended so easily. Ferus was torn between falling to his knees and kicking something, and so he took another step back, keeping his eyes on Obi-Wan - feeling cornered, both aggressive and afraid.

"I let him teach me because I wanted him to teach me", he snapped, insistent as well, needing to make Obi-Wan see. The pleading undertone was something he tried to bury in his anger, and the anger was sincere enough, because of how angry he was at himself.

"The dark side made me stronger."

"And I did not say you were not misguided," Obi-Wan commented, not quite snapping back. He frowned, watching Ferus, but he reminded himself to be gentler. What Ferus needed more than Obi-Wan's annoyance, right now, he thought, was a firm but guiding hand. Not impatience.

But there was an element of fear in it as well. Not of Ferus, but for him. Not for who Ferus was, but who he could have so easily become.

Obi-Wan would not lose another to the Dark Side.

"There was no good for you down that path. You should turn your back on it once and for all."

Edited 2015-11-01 22:13 (UTC)

"I'm trying!"

He'd raised his voice. The pain and anger were so close to his heart and he could feel the dark side of the Force within reach, knew the potential he'd have if he let his anger fester, if he took just another step.

It was difficult to turn away from. But he was trying. He was trying, and it took him every effort, everything he had, to stay on the path. But reminding himself that he was a Jedi when it wasn't actually true didn't help him.

It wasn't easy.

None of this was easy, and Ferus felt fractured and broken and lost, and he had nothing to stand on, no idea who he was anymore.

He'd found the darkness beautiful.

"But it's part of me now. I accepted knowledge from a Sith." And he had to spit that out, because he was disgusted. In hindsight, of course. Only in hindsight. "He gave me a holocron. I couldn't look away."

Obi-Wan tensed as Ferus rose his voice and snapped and spit out his words. He was about to raise his voice in turn when he suddenly became aware of a stirring beside him. Rooh was becoming uneasy once more, looking between the two men and shuffling toward her youngling. Reminded of the tension by the animals, Obi-Wan took a steadying breath, becoming mindful once more of his presence and his tone.

He would remain calm, he was determined. He would not match Ferus's anger or impatience.

"You have been changed, it is true," Obi-Wan said evenly enough. "And you can't take back what you have done: to wish to would be childish. But you should know full well to abandon your defeatism. You are not the only one to have been touched by the Dark Side and to have returned nonetheless. None return unscathed, but you have already done a great feat by returning."

Ferus, by contrast, didn't reflect on the uneasy animals despite being aware of them. They didn't seem to matter to him. What mattered was only Obi-Wan and himself. For a short, terrible moment he was made furious by Obi-Wan's visible calm - he wanted the fight, wanted to scream - but then he swallowed against the rage, looked away, pushed his hands through his hair, and kicked at the sand.

And before he knew it, he was pacing. Short, jerky movements, back and forth. The eopies were further distressed, but he didn't notice.

"Right", he said, and the anger was still there, but not as loud now, instead grit out between his teeth. "And even more people were touched by the dark side and stayed there. I was stupid to think they wouldn't get to me."

Obi-Wan sighed this time, watching the angry Ferus start to pace and move and, yes, disturb the animals. The older man walked over to the pair, taking Rooh's snout in his hands and murmuring a "good girl" to her. Tooh butted lightly into his mother, staying close to her legs.

Obi-Wan glanced back up at Ferus when he spoke again, studying him.

"As I said," he repeated, his tone even but short, "you should have left the Empire sooner than you did. But 'what-if's will not help you now." He shook his head, thinking of all of his own regrets for a moment. But this wasn't about him. "You broke free. That is the important thing."

Startled by Obi-Wan moving from his spot, Ferus backed up when he came closer to him and then past him to soothe the animals. And he backed up further still and then remained standing again, trying to calm himself.

He remembered his reflection in shattered transparisteel. Glowing eyes. Dark features. He didn't want that. No matter how easily he succumbed to his anger, he didn't want to see that in himself again. But the capacity was there, and that's what he was struggling with.

And it was something Obi-Wan didn't seem to understand.

His hands were still shaking and he let his nails dig into his palms.

"I could fail again", he said, voice low, eyes wavering. That was just as important. Wasn't it?

Once the animals seemed more relaxed, Obi-Wan turned away from them to study Ferus again. Were it only so easy to calm Ferus as well as the eopies, he thought, noting the nervousness that was coursing from Ferus. Obi-Wan clasped his hands in front of him, calming his own presence and hoping it might have a positive effect on the other Jedi.

Slowly, he shook his head.

"Of course you could. Just as you could continue to along this path successfully. Be mindful of your anxieties, Ferus, but do not let them rule you."

He almost wanted to laugh, for a short, sharp moment. His anxieties. Yeah, that was one way of putting it, but it felt like so much more, so crushingly more - and he had to bite back something that might've come out as, that's easy for you to say.

That would be unfair, he realized that. He also knew rationally that he was confused and upset and still in so much pain. And he was so angry. Forcing that down was the hardest, because when the anger left, he was only left with guilt and grief, and he didn't want either.

Still, something was starting to leave him, and in its place was a constricting feeling in his throat.

"Don't tell me to just let this go", he said tightly. "I can't do that anymore."

It wasn't quite what Obi-Wan had meant, but it wasn't wrong either. Of course the Jedi way was to accept emotion, then let it go. But he also knew that Ferus was hardly a conventional Jedi. As well, he knew it was always easier said than done to do as much.

He hesitated a moment, but he pressed on in spite of Ferus's words.

"Accepting them is not the same as letting them go," he insisted gently. "I understand that you need time with these feelings before you can move beyond them." They were, after all, such recent pains. "Think, Ferus, and feel. But do not let them control you or harm you any more than they already have."

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