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“Ahsoka.” Three crisp syllables, and she knows she’s caught. “What are you doing?”
Aiming for nonchalance, she turns around to face her fate. It’s a trick of Skyguy’s. Act like you’re supposed to be there, and most people won’t question it.
“Ah, Master Kenobi. I was looking for you.”
One slim ginger eyebrow rises toward her Grandmaster’s hairline. Unfortunately for her, Obi-Wan Kenobi is well-versed in Skyguy’s entire playbook. In fact, now that she thinks of it, it was probably Master Obi-Wan’s playbook first.
“In my sock drawer. In my private bedroom. Yes, I can certainly see how you’d think you’d find me there,” comes the acerbic response as Master Obi-Wan leans against the doorframe of his bedroom.
Effectively blocking her in and cutting off her nebulous thought of escape. She wonders if she’ll spend the rest of her leave her, trapped in this moment until the Senate deploys them to another battlefield halfway across the galaxy.
Ahsoka winces, but straightens her back. She’s faced General Grievous. She can weather this storm.
“And here you are!” she says.
“Here I am,” he agrees. “And why were you searching me out, Ahsoka?”
Brightening, she decides she can admit her true purpose.
“I was talking to Master Anakin.”
“Oh dear, an ominous way to start.”
Ahsoka smiles as her Grandmaster gives her an eyeroll before gracing her with an encouraging smile.
“Anyways, he said that he earned a Tyloth bead as a Padawan, and naturally, I don’t believe him. Those are like, literally impossible to earn. So I was looking for his Padawan braid.”
Master Obi-Wan blinks slowly, then grimaces as he processes that.
Ahsoka isn’t prepared for the wave of emotion that hits the Force, a thick slurry of feelings that washes over her before it disappears. Master Obi-Wan’s Force signature dims as he strengthens his shields.
“I’m afraid you won’t find it here,” he says calmly, turning around and heading out into the sitting area. “But I can confirm Anakin did earn a Tyloth bead for his actions on Kretoa.”
“Wait, what?” Ahsoka says, following him out. Master Obi-Wan heads to the kitchen, and Ahsoka recognizes the steps of Master Obi-Wan’s tea ritual as he starts performing them, seemingly on automatic. “What do you mean it’s not here? He gave it to you, didn’t he?”
Another wave of emotion, this one stronger than the first. It’s heavy enough that Ahsoka can identify grief, shame, and sadness before they’re reeled back. There’s a heavy crack! as Master Obi-Wan sets down a teacup with extra force. He grimaces, examining the cup, then his expression returns to a neutral one as he finds it undamaged.
“He did not.”
“But that’s tradition!” Ahsoka says, fingers twining around her silka beads. She’s already picked out the box she’ll give them to Skyguy in once she’s knighted, a traditional Togrutan patterned one that she found one day while exploring Coruscant with Rex. “Padawans always give Masters their braids. It’s like the perfect symbol of all they’ve gone through together and…”
“Ahsoka,” Master Obi-Wan says, and he hasn’t raised his voice, but Ahsoka feels like all the air has gone out of the room. “We’re both aware how untraditional Anakin’s apprenticeship was. He wasn’t raised in the Temple for the first part of his life. And it’s a tradition, yes, but not all people follow all traditions. After all, I know for instance that you never participate in the yearly Padawan Sink.”
“I’m not a great swimmer,” Ahsoka says petulantly, but then realizes she still has her hands on her beads. “Who did he give his braid to?”
This time, there’s no wave of emotion. But there’s also an odd, active nothingness in the Force that makes her shiver. It’s not a technique she knows, but she can recognize it as one.
“I imagine it’s someone he cares a lot about.” There’s no emotion in those words, just truth. Somehow, that hurts worse than if Master Obi-Wan had shouted them. “Now, would you like a cup of tea?”
“I’m…I’m sorry.” She is; shame curling in her stomach. She just wanted proof of her Master’s exploits, not to poke at what was obviously a tender spot for her Grandmaster.
And then Master Obi-Wan sighs, his shoulders slumping in a little. When he looks up at her from the tea service, she’s surprised to see his eyes shining a little.
“Ahsoka, you’ve nothing to apologize for. I will admit that Anakin not following tradition hurt a little, but I’m still proud of him for making it to knighthood. And one day, I’ll be proud of you for the same. And when that day comes, you can choose what you’d like to do with what I’m sure will be your very impressive braid, traditional or not. Okay?”
“Okay,” Ahsoka says, finally tucking her beads back over her shoulder and releasing them. She’s struck by the urge to ask Master Obi-Wan what happened to his braid, but a sudden pulse in the Force stays her tongue. She knows her Grandmaster’s Knighting story; the entire Temple knows about the Sith Slayer. So instead, she smiles and takes a stool at the kitchen counter. “Tea would be great. And, uh, maybe you could tell me how Skyguy earned that Tyloth bead?”
At this, Master Obi-Wan gives her a genuine smile, one that’s a little tight around the edges, but a smile all the same.
“Well,” Master Obi-Wan says as he hands her a cup and starts preparing one for himself. “As you might imagine, it started when one of Anakin’s plans went a little awry. So there we were…”