thesaurus | ITT: SAD JEDI

Entry tags:

!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?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

While Ferus didn't laugh, there was a soft, amused sound that escaped him, having been caught by surprise at Obi-Wan's dry attempt at humour. Something about that helped and likely did so pretty obviously. It helped pull him a little more away from the dark place he was in so often.

"I'm sure there will be, if you don't finish it", he said in response, glancing at Obi-Wan and finishing his own serving by picking up the bowl and drinking the last of the stew straight from it.

Not particularly fancy, but neither was the establishment.

And there it was--a small success at least. He hardly wanted to make light of things, there was so much darkness, but a little bit of humour could go a long way. It was also a lot harder to find in these days, there being so little to smile about.

It was going to be a number of long, lonely years in this desert.

"A matter of time then," he replied with a sigh. He didn't follow Ferus's lead though, being more polite about finishing his stew, taking the last few spoonfuls.

He went to collect Ferus's dishes so that he might clean up. Ferus was more than welcome to help, or to pursue further conversation, but Obi-Wan would hardly ask.

"Everything happens in time, Obi-Wan."

Smile gone but voice soft with another wave of remembrance - although this one, evidently, not as painful - Ferus stood as well. There was a moment of uncertainty as to what he was meant to do, but he simply remained where he was in the end, leaning one arm against the wall as he watched Obi-Wan, and then out the window.

The chill was bound to set in any minute, he thought.

He liked cities a lot more than these isolated places he seemed to find himself in lately, but still, he knew, that there was something about this that he would miss.

"Of course," Obi-Wan agreed almost wistfully. It was something he had heard before as well. It was hopeful, in some small way. But it pained him that he could not put a face to the words. He wished for nothing more than to see his teachers and friends again.

He sighed and set to work cleaning the dishes; a very particular task, he found, when water was the most valuable and sparse resource on the planet.

Suddenly it broke back an old memory. An old friend, stuck doing the dishes with him. Spilling water that no one would have missed anywhere else in the galaxy. But here...

"Siri would have hated this," he said softly. He wasn't entirely sure where he was going with that, but it seemed only right to share her memory when it came to mind with Ferus, to whom she had also been important.

Ferus smiled slightly, still looking out into the darkness for a moment before he glanced back at Obi-Wan, and he nodded his agreement.

"She would", he said, mirroring Obi-Wan's tone. Despite having no idea why she was on Obi-Wan's mind, Ferus appreciated him sharing that he was thinking of her. Siri had been the closest thing he'd had to his own family for a very long time and leaving her had been one of the most difficult things about leaving the Temple. In large part because a part of him insisted that he'd let her down by doing so. That maybe he'd given up on something.

Of course it had little to do with her and everything to do with the death of a fellow Padawan that he'd been unable to shake the guilt from.

It had been a rash decision, in many ways. It had hurt him deeply to make the call he had. In the end he was still happy he'd left, but accepting that he was on his own, without Siri's reassuring presence next to him, had been one of the most difficult adjustments to make.

He tilted his head slightly to the side, tipping it into the stone while he let his thoughts drift, watching Obi-Wan all the while.

"She told me you knew each other when you were Padawans."

Obi-Wan smiled just slightly to himself-- first at Ferus's agreement, and then at his gentle but obvious prompting. She was on his mind often enough, it was true, and he appreciated Ferus being there at a moment where she was--he had been important to her just as she was important to him. Few others had a strong bond with her.

Part of the reason he had meant to contact Ferus after the Wars was to inform him of Siri's passing. For him to not know--

At least he learned from another source.

But he didn't mind the probing question. As much as the thought of Siri would likely always bring him some grief, he had already been learning to move on from her death when the Purge had happened. The wound her passing left was not as open and raw, though it had been deep.

And their years as Padawans together, long in the past now, was hardly painful. It brought back fond enough memories.

"We did," he confirmed, not turning back to look at Ferus, but feeling calm enough with this memory. "She had been a youngling still when we first came to know each other, but her first mission off-planet as a Padawan was to accompany Qui-Gon and I. She did not," he mused, thinking back on her disdain, "like me very much at the time."

"Did it have anything to do with your overbearing caution and inability to relax?"

It was kind of funny, honestly, how he was really describing himself as well by the friendly jab. He'd been vastly different as a Padawan, concerned with rules and respectful to a fault, where now he'd cross lines when he felt it was needed and had grown spontaneous and loose.

Or well. At least until the dark side bore down on him, but he was trying not to think about that.

What he was thinking about was the fact that Siri despite these qualities in him had always been a patient Master. Perhaps part of the reason he'd been able to accept his emerging new personality as completely as he had was because of her sometimes not-too-subtle ways of telling him to value exactly those qualities, yet did this without being judgmental of who he was.

He'd appreciated that. But he could see how she likely hadn't been mature enough to feel that way when she'd been a youngling. And of course he'd seen her amusement in never letting up on Obi-Wan either, something he still assumed she'd done in a particular way of showing friendship towards him.

Obi-Wan actually smiled at that, if still faintly enough, that teasing comment. Because it was good to hear Ferus being more relaxed, willing to mouth off in a friendlier way. The kind of way Obi-Wan could appreciate, anyway. And besides--it wasn't wrong, exactly, about either of them. But still, it wasn't what he was thinking about either.

"You'd be surprised," he said mildly, finishing with the dishes and putting them away. He glanced back at Ferus for a moment as he did so, eyebrows raised. "She actually despised a particular decision I had made, one she saw as unthinking, perhaps."

And because he knew Ferus would ask, and because it didn't matter anymore if someone knew, he explained, "I left the Order, for a time, as a boy."

Perhaps Ferus would appreciate the great ironies in that.

Obi-Wan was right - he'd been about to ask, even if only with an inclination of his head. Instead his eyes widened slightly at the admission, because this wasn't anything he had been aware of. And it certainly spoke to him, as he'd left the Order himself, which was no doubt why Obi-Wan saw it fitting to share.

He appreciated the gesture. And he stood thoughtful for a short moment, trying to make this information fit with the Obi-Wan he knew. He found that it didn't really, although it was still mildly comforting to know.

Ferus had no regrets about leaving the Order now, but he'd certainly had doubts at the time, had been racked by uncertainty even as he'd made his decision. He'd known of course about others that had left, or else he'd not have considered it an option. But he had known none personally. Or at least he hadn't thought so.

"Siri mentioned ..." he started, then trailed off as he tried to remember what it was she'd said. "She said others who had left had come back, that she'd known it to happen. I wouldn't have thought she meant you."

Edited 2015-10-27 19:19 (UTC)

Obi-Wan nodded slightly, inclining his head in an acknowledgement of the remark. It was very fair. Looking back on it, it seemed a rash decision. Right in the moment, perhaps, but certainly not in the long-term. Not for him.

That was, perhaps, why he had not told Ferus before. He hadn't wanted the boy to think that he was making the wrong decision by leaving. Clearly he had made the right one. It spoke quite a lot to their differences now, as grown men.

"No, I don't expect you would have," he agreed with a faint smile, turning back to face him now that everything was cleaned up. "But I have changed much since I was a Padawan. As have you," he added with a respectful gesture to him.

Of course, the last few months had changed Ferus even further. In the interest of not letting that heavy knowledge overtake them if it did not have to, he continued on.

"Siri had thought, at the time, that it made us all look bad. But she came to understand my decision, and to learn it had nothing to do with my commitment to the Order."

Taking all this in, Ferus paid attention as he listened. Obi-Wan telling him these things gave him cause to reflect some on his own past. Not that it was needed much, anymore - he'd done his share of reflection for a very long time until he was fully at ease with the choice he'd made. But he found that he was going over some of the thoughts he'd used to have again in light of what Obi-Wan was sharing.

It sounded like something he could imagine a young Siri to say, too. Something judgmental simply because she didn't have the facts. The Siri he'd known as his Master had conquered that trait, but the impatience in finding facts sometimes still showed through.

"Why did you return?" he asked after a short moment, finding that that's what he was the most interested in knowing.

That was a more complicated question, but Obi-Wan had put 25 years between the present and what had transpired on Melida/Daan. It didn't plague him the way it had for some time after the fact, when he'd still effectively been a boy, not even a young man.

But of course, much of the context surrounding his return was unnecessarily complicated, and he didn't have cause to share most of it with Ferus. Little of it made any difference any more, as much as it would always be a part of him.

Nield turning on him. Cerasi's death. Their hard-won but fragile peace nearly shattering.

"Suffice it to say," Obi-Wan summarized, "that I did not fit in very well outside of the Order. I later called my Master back to help settle a dispute and found myself deeply missing working with him."

Ferus nodded, not pushing for more. Obi-Wan was a private person, he knew. And when it came to secrets that didn't affect his life, Ferus saw no reason not to let Obi-Wan have them. He was curious, but the answer was satisfying enough, and he had no difficulty letting that go.

He noted Obi-Wan's wording with slight amusement, though.

"I never fit in very well inside the Order", he said, thinking back. Which was true, despite how adept he knew he had been. He had been lonely. He'd felt pressure he couldn't let go of. "I could do nearly everything they asked of me. I was strong. I knew I had promise. But I was never happy."

Pausing for a moment as he thought again of Roan's eyes, crinkling with laughter the very first time he'd seen them, his voice took on a softer, sadder quality again.

"I didn't realize that until ..." a vague gesture with his head, as if indicating something beyond the stars outside, "Bellassa."

Obi-Wan was glad Ferus didn't push. It wasn't much of a secret, in the end, but he did not want to talk about all of his personal misgivings, not by far.

But this was very much about both of them still. He of course recognized what Ferus was saying. He had been surprised to learn how difficult Ferus's time in the Order had been. He was glad to know his time as a civilian, the precious few years he'd had, were good.

And he felt glad that Ferus shared that little bit about himself. About where he had finally found that happiness.

He was glad for that, though of course he didn't know all of the details. But he also knew that had been taken from Ferus recently. By Vader. That meant that any happiness that could be shared was poisoned, if not dead.

And what could he say?

"I am very sorry, Ferus."

For so many things.

Ferus hid his eyes when he pushed away from the wall. The acknowledgement of his losses was gentle and sincere, but even so - or maybe because of it - it hurt even more. Drawing in a breath, he nodded and took a few steps around the table, pushing his hands through his hair as he did.

There was a lot fighting inside him. So many different responses to the sympathy that was offered. There was, sorry doesn't fix anything. But there was also, I'm sorry too.

He was thinking of Roan. And he was thinking of Solace and Garen and Ry-Gaul.

And he was thinking of Trever, who he would lose in a matter of days. By his own choice. To protect him.

He didn't realize he was pacing until he forced himself to stand still, and he felt tense and vulnerable, and a small part of him was angry at Obi-Wan for having managed that so elegantly. Just by compassion.

"You told me that forgiveness is a decision", he said thickly and rather suddenly. "But I'm not sure it's one I can make."

Edited 2015-10-27 21:10 (UTC)

Obi-Wan was silent as he watched Ferus pace the room and deliberate. He was fine with waiting him out, with letting him vent his pain and frustration as much as needed. It wasn't as if it was doing Obi-Wan any harm to give Ferus that space, that outlet. He knew he needed it.

Of course he offered compassion. Of course he gave him sympathy. He hoped it help, though he understood also why it wouldn't.

And he understood Ferus's concerns.

"It may take a some time," he cautioned gently. He knew that it was for him. "But you have to be willing to take that step."

He was concerned what would happen to Ferus if he could never make that step.

He'd told Obi-Wan just a few days prior that he didn't feel inclined to taking those steps, for simple lack of want or reason. Putting it like this, that he felt unable to at all, was a different thing. In truth he wasn't sure the want wasn't still lacking, sure, but ... every time he thought about what had happened he couldn't help but find moments where he could have acted differently.

Where he could have saved someone.

But those people were dead or underground and either way, he had no one now, other than his fellow Jedi, the one left he knew. Obi-Wan had said there was a third but also that he couldn't tell Ferus any more than that. A part of Ferus was frustrated over that decision, but it was one he could accept.

Being a Jedi was a death sentence.

Ferus didn't know what he was, but he knew he'd have the same sentence on him now, if he ever showed his face again.

Because of Anakin.

"Are you?"

The question was asked almost before he'd realized he was speaking.

And there it was, another question that Obi-Wan didn't particularly want to think about or answer. Ferus was particularly on point with those this evening, though Obi-Wan hardly found that fact surprising. Ferus had always been observant and keen, even before he'd been more willing to speak his mind.

He had noticed things about Anakin that Obi-Wan had been too afraid to see.

He sighed faintly, and looked away for the moment. How honest should he be about that answer? And how much would his pause belie the fact that he wasn't entirely certain about it?

"I wish to be," he finally said.

Yeah, there it was. Ferus hadn't been paying too much attention the last few days, honestly - had let himself get self-centered and introspective these few days as he was struggling with himself - but the guilt and pain he was carrying now had been easily found in Obi-Wan as well.

With me as a Master, he'd started to say, not long ago at all, speculating about Anakin's crossing over to the dark side. Ferus had been too angry to reflect on it much at the time, but he remembered it. And he didn't think he would forget it, the same way Obi-Wan wouldn't forget his reasons for saying that in the first place.

Obi-Wan wasn't that much older than him, but right then, the years between them became even more obvious.

He smiled, faintly, without humour. It was more a small way of saying 'gotcha'.

"Not so easy, right?" he said wearily.

He didn't return that smile, humourless or not. He did feel very tired and, again, old. He wasn't the only one noticing his years. Obi-Wan didn't consider himself particularly old, but he felt his age in his weariness.

There was quite a lot on his shoulders now. Both the future and the past.

He thought for a moment of Qui-Gon reminding him to pay attention to the moment, to not let the future or the past worry him at the expense of the present. But it felt there was little in the present, now. Just waiting.

Well, and this. This was worth something at least.

"Few journeys are," Obi-Wan replied. "I've accepted that."

Jedi wisdom again, but Ferus didn't mind it this time. Maybe because it felt more like Obi-Wan's own, even behind the Jedi way. He often found that level of acceptance too passive, these days, too easy; an excuse not to do anything that could matter. But spoken like this, from the heart about something extremely difficult, he could appreciate what Obi-Wan was saying, even if he wasn't sure what he was feeling himself.

Hooking his foot behind a leg of the chair Obi-Wan had previously been occupying, he pulled it towards him and kicked it lightly to make it turn so he could sit down again, backwards; resting his arms over the back of it.

"I don't think I was ever that good at acceptance", he said after a moment, turning his head to look out that window again. "Even as a Padawan."

Obi-Wan watched the movement in silence, musing on it quietly. It was similar to something he had seen Ferus do many months ago, what he imagined must seem like a lifetime ago to Ferus, but it seemed different now. Less casual, more tired.

But perhaps that difference was more in Ferus than the action.

On the other hand, it was a miracle he even had a second chair for Ferus to do that with.

Obi-Wan crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the wall. "Frankly," he confessed, hopefully adding a somewhat lighter note to the air again. "I was terrible at it as a Padawan. At least at first."

Qui-Gon Jinn had had his hands full with the young Obi-Wan. Obviously things had changed.

Edited 2015-10-28 02:56 (UTC)

Darting a glance at Obi-Wan and realizing the attempt for what it was, Ferus nonetheless allowed a hint of a smile to touch his eyes. They could use the somewhat-lighter. But more than that, there was something nice and almost normal when the conversation took these turns, and it was surprising to learn as much as he was about Obi-Wan.

He'd never really known him at the Temple, of course. He was learning a lot more about him these months than he had during his whole life as a Jedi.

"So Master Kenobi had humble beginnings?"

Oh, he'd tease, even if the jokes were tired and strained. It seemed easier than being close to tears ... or the anger. A momentary reprieve from himself.

Obi-Wan offered a wry imitation of a smile, inclining his head slightly. "You'd be surprised," he conceded, though he didn't offer any real details. They were unnecessary, and he wasn't about to go listing all of his flaws. But Ferus was a peer now, one of two left, and the only one that he could talk to, so unburdening some of those differences between them seemed like it might help. Or at least give them more common ground.

Just don't go rushing out to tell everyone, he thought but didn't say. Because who could Ferus ever tell? Everyone was gone. Obi-Wan stifled a sigh.

Ferus shrugged one shoulder, leaning his chin on his arms. "Alright, don't tell me", he said, although despite the still-tired quality to his voice, it wasn't said with any actual annoyance. Again; this was past. Not important. "Keep your image."

He wasn't serious, of course. But with the way his eyes kept drifting it might have been difficult to tell. He found yet again that he was watching the distant darkness. He knew one of the moons must have risen above the horizon, as the surroundings were less black and more a deep blue gray, but he couldn't see it from here.

Edited 2015-10-28 19:48 (UTC)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject