Chapter Text
Like many younglings, you did not remember a life before the Jedi.
You were envious of those in your clan that carried even the smallest memory of a life that has long since been lost to them.
Another human girl named Riyoo remembered the smell of her mothers perfume. A Twi’lek boy named Harlen could recall the faces of his older brothers.
He once admitted to you in the darkness of the Temple that he could remember his family home, and that he had dreams of going back there. He begged you not to repeat to anyone what he had said to you. There was shame in his attachment to his past, and to his family.
You didn’t carry the same burden. There were no lingering memories, no fragments of a life that once was.
You were like a blank slate, a lifeforce unburdened by the weight of personal history. The Jedi Temple was the only home you had ever known, your clan and your Masters were your only family.
And that caused you great discontent for as long as you could remember.
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Before an Initiate can become a Padawan, they are taught control. Control over their emotions, control over their impulses, and control over the Force itself.
Control was a comforting concept to you from a very young age. In the back of your mind you thought that once you mastered control you would hold the key to your freedom.
Control represented the ability to shape yourself into the ideal Jedi, enabling you to explore the vast galaxy beyond the confines of Coruscant. It signified the capability to safeguard peace throughout the Galaxy, alleviating suffering wherever you encountered it. Control promised a life devoid of the constant churn of anxiety and the unchecked surge of emotions you often felt alone in your room.
And so for the first thirteen years of your life, you took every instruction to heart, never questioned your masters, and went to bed reflecting on the lessons you learned each day.
You didn’t have any memories of a family. You didn’t know which planet you had been born on. You didn’t know whether you were being missed somewhere in the Galaxy or slowly being forgotten.
What you did know was that becoming a Jedi and belonging to your new path was all you ever wanted. It was the only dream that felt familiar to you. Without it, you had nothing.
You had been chosen due to your connection to the Force. As each year of your training passed, you had proven time and time again that whenever you called, the Force would answer. It hadn’t failed you, and you wouldn’t fail it.
At times, your success made your clanmates uneasy. Perhaps a little jealous. They thought things came too easy for you.
That made you strangely happy. You wanted others to see you as someone at one with the Force. You weren’t of course, you were young just like the rest of them and still had much to learn. But it scared you to be seen in any other light. So you became good at hiding your mistakes and putting on a show. You began to even control your own image.
It wasn’t perfect though. An itch in the back of your skull reminded you that Grand Master Yoda watched you carefully as you trained. Every slip you managed to hide amongst your peers was undoubtedly known to the ancient Master. Like many aspects of your life in the Temple, the control you thought you held sifted through your fingers.
So you tried harder, if a show wouldn’t work then a true display of skill would. Instead of reflecting on your lessons before bed, you practiced until your body fell from exhaustion. You dissected your shortcomings and planned carefully how to approach your own improvement.
Some nights when you finally laid your head down to rest, your mind kept spinning in circles. Sleep wouldn’t come until you felt satisfied with your progress. You often laid awake until the sun shined through your windows.
You would have never admitted it to yourself, but everyday you felt afraid. You felt afraid of the possibility that the life you had been chosen for wouldn’t choose you. You were afraid of failure, but fear was the path to the dark side.
So you couldn’t be afraid, or else failure was inevitable. But you became afraid of your fears that would lead to your failure. It was inescapable and it drove you mad.
Six months before your initiate trials, you felt yourself beginning to crack and splinter. You made mistakes often and you didn’t have the same ability to hide them.
During a round with the training droid, your skin stinged where the low powered blasts struck you. You didn’t have the focus to reflect them with your training saber and so they kept striking you one by one. For the first time your clanmates looked at you with pity. You hated it.
Once your time was up, you asked to be dismissed. If you stayed a minute longer you wouldn’t have been able to stop your emotions from reaching the surface.
You walked out the training room with fire on your heels. Running through the halls would be looked down upon, so you walked as fast as you could with your head down and clenched fists at your side.
There was an urge to leave the Temple. Walk out the doors and never come back. Find a new life and rid yourself of your anxieties.
As you walked, distracted by your own emotions, you didn’t sense that you had been noticed. You were only focused on the ground in front of you and reaching the outside.
The only warning you had was a hand laid gently on your shoulder.
“Are you alright?” A voice to your side asked softly.
They came around to stand in front of you all the while keeping a hand on your shoulder. You admitted to yourself that it was nice to feel touch. Although wholly unfamiliar. It grounded you back in your body and away from your clouded emotions. If only for a moment.
As the moment passed, however, the alien touch began to tingle. Sting. Until it felt like a live wire and you had to shake it off.
“Yes, thank you.” The lie slipped through your teeth on second nature. Though it scared you how shaky your own voice sounded. Not at all convincing.
Despite your answer, they still hadn’t moved away from your path.
If they continued to stay it would not be appropriate to keep staring at the ground. So you leveled your gaze to the taller boy in your way.
The first thing you noticed was his Padawan braid, and you thanked your stars he hadn’t been a Master.
Grateful still, you noticed that he was older than you. Though not by much. A Padawan still approaching the line between youngling and adult. It wasn’t uncommon, Initiates like yourself took the trial when they were thirteen. However, most Padawan’s weren’t knighted until their late twenties.
He had cerulean eyes and what seemed to be an attempt at a freshly shaven face. Though you could still see the shadow creeping over his jaw of rust colored hairs. You searched your memories for him, but you hadn’t paid much attention to anyone outside your clan. Which meant he was still a stranger to you.
“Bad day of training?” He said with a tilt to his voice and an eyebrow raised. For some reason it made you huff out a short laugh.
“How could you tell?” You asked with some amused curiosity, “Is it just written on my forehead or something?”
It was his turn to chuckle and give you a small smile. Almost as if his pity lifted the corners of his mouth.
“Not quite, but….” He motioned his head slightly down to your reddened arms “Looks like you got blasted quite a bit.”
What little amusement you had built quickly crumbled by your sharp embarrassment. You had left your cloak behind in the training room, so you tried to cover yourself with one arm over the other. But it was pointless, they both bore the marks of your failures.
He was still smiling, though you wished he wouldn’t. If he was offended by you glaring at him, he surely didn’t let it affect him.
“It’s alright! No need to be embarrassed.” He said easily. He looked like someone who laughed a lot. Who made his friends easily. “I can absolutely promise you I’ve had more embarrassing training sessions than getting blasted a few times by those pesky droids.”
You could feel the bait. He wanted you to ask about his embarrassing moments. He wanted to lend you comfort through his own humility.
The stubborn part of you didn’t want to fall for it. But the weak part of you wanted to feel better.
“Like what?” You asked quietly, still holding onto both elbows tightly.
“Well…” he said with a glint in his eyes. Clearly his plan had worked. “One day when I was still an initiate, Master Yoda wanted to work on our communication through the force.” He paused for a dramatic effect. As if something he said should have tipped you off as to where this story was going.
He had a clear talent for talking with others. Something you hadn’t focused on improving in yourself. You’ve begun wondering recently if maybe you should have. Despite it not being a Jedi skill.
“Go on…” you prompted, confused as to why he had stopped.
He sucked the air between his teeth, looked sideways, and crossed his arms in front of him.
“Actually… I’m not sure I should.” He says with a questioning tone. Something about his mouth tips you off though. It was tilted differently than before.
“You’re joking.” You say as directly as you can. It wasn’t a question, it was a matter of fact. He was teasing you.
“No actually.” He replies with a suddenly serious tone of voice. His grin slipping from his face. “I’m quite serious.” He almost seemed true to his word. Except that he hadn’t looked you in the eye.
“No you’re not.” You hissed in the quiet halls. He was wasting your time and teasing you without any reason to.
But it had been awhile since someone had teased you at the Temple. No one treated you familiarly anymore. So you continued to entertain it.
“How would you know?” He challenged, but with each passing second his composure swayed.
“Because,” You waited for the split second his act dropped and then you striked, “Look at you, you’re smiling!” You nearly shouted.
He dropped his jaw as if he was shocked at your accusation. “I am not!”
“You are.” You huffed, annoyance creeping in from the pointless back and forth.
It reminded you why you weren’t teased. Why no one treated you familiarly within the last year. You didn’t have the time for it.
“You’re smiling and you’re having a go at me. Now, if you’ll please excuse me.”
You take a step past him, but once again his hand on your shoulder stops you from continuing. The feeling of his touch felt closer to an electric shock than of any comfort. You threw your shoulder back to shake him off.
You still felt a current run though as you stared him down. It felt so sharp it made the inside of your mouth taste like durasteel.
“I wasn’t trying to make fun of you.” He says calmly.
The hand that was on your shoulder had hovered in the air for a moment before he curled his fingers back and crossed one arm over the other in front of him. A sign that he wouldn’t be reaching out to touch you for a third time.
He had miscalculated, a feeling you were becoming familiar with. You know how it looked when you lost your grasp on the situation. He bore the same characteristics.
“It really is an embarrassing story.” He placated once again.
“Then finish the damn story...” You mumbled. You were tired. You had messed up in training. Your arms hurt. Your eyes faintly stung. You couldn’t breathe properly through your nose.
He was a stranger. He probably wanted to comfort you. He messed up by teasing you. Above all, he was trying to be nice. So you would try to be patient.
“I’ll tell you what. I’ll finish my story if you tell me one in return.”
“Is this a negotiation now?” You asked with a brow raised.
He uncrossed one of his hands to scratch at the stubble growing on his cheek. A nervous habit if you’ve ever seen one.
“You know… that had been my intention.” His hand stopped before scratching down his neck and once again crossed in front of him. “Though I must say, I think I’ve already made a few missteps.”
You nodded in acknowledgment. “Perhaps you need to work on your negotiation skills, Padawan.”
You spoke to him with all the condescension of a Master. Yet here the two of you were. You stood a head shorter than him, a rank below him, and with blaster marks on your arm.
He could have easily pointed out any of these details.
“Perhaps you’re right.” He instead sighed in agreement.
Finally, your lips twitched into something like a smile. It was a small and rusted smile after a couple years of being dormant. Barely lifted the fats of your cheek. But it felt overgrown and wild.
“I’ll take pity on you Padawan.” You continued in the same tone, “Your story in exchange for one of my own.”
“Must I go first?” He asked, rocking back on his feet contemplating.
“Why would I go first?” You squinted, “You’ve already started your story.”
“Yes, yes…” he nodded before looking around the hallways.
Although you had not seen many pass by as the two of you spoke, it was hardly a private place to tell an embarrassing story. The Padawan seemed wary over it.
You huffed and uncrossed your arms, before turning around and moving deeper into the Temple.
“Where are you going?” He asked, not straying to far behind you.
“Someplace quiet.” You mentioned over your shoulder “A good place for stories.”
The Archives. In particular, you were bringing him to one of your favorite study rooms hidden away in a corner beyond the stacks of datapads. Rarely used by anyone, besides yourself.
His footsteps faltered as you reached the entrance, so you glanced over to him.
He squinted up at the door looking utterly perplexed.
“Not one for reading?” You asked. You felt snide though so you added, “Or are you just unable to?”
He fixed you with a hard look. It was one thing to call him Padawan, but insulting his intelligence may have been a step too far for him.
His jaw was clenched and you wondered if this was it. If you had pushed him far enough. You thought it might bring you some relief if it did.
“My, you are a bold one, aren’t you?” He said instead.
He stepped closer to you, brushing past your side before pressing on the door to open.
“Ladies first,” he said gesturing into the door.
Seems like you wouldn’t lose him yet. You walked past the odd Padawan and guided through the archives on auto-pilot.
The Archives had once amazed you. Tall ceiling and walls covered from top to bottom on glowing datapads. It was a maze of knowledge, and you weren’t sure if anyone could really know everything recorded here. Even strict Master Nu.
Who speaking of which, was likely the reason the Padawan behind you had fallen silent after entering. This wasn’t the realm for banter or disturbances that he seemed to enjoy.
Master Nu certainly didn’t have favorites in the Temple. But she had been known to develop a list of those she disliked. You wondered if his name had become an entry.
Tucked in the corner was your room, empty as you had come to expect. You nodded your head along and entered with your strange Padawan in tow.
Like most rooms in the temple, it was barren. Devoid of any decoration or comforting furniture. What you did like about it, was the glow flowing through the doors window of the library. As well as the contrasting view of Coruscant on the other side.
“Well,” you started taking the chair that let half your body lean towards the window and the other half to the city, “I hope this is private enough for you.”
He looked around, caught by the views of speeders in the distance. He, like yourself, must’ve spent his entire childhood in this Planet. A city that never ends. You wondered if being a Padawan had brought him anywhere else.
Jungles. Deserts. Oceans.
Or if, like you, the most wild thing he’s seen is a drunk Gungan on a speeder.
You doubted that though.
“This is a lovely room.” He commented, taking the chair opposite of you.
You shifted in your seat looking away from his face.
“One of my favorites.” You admitted quietly.
He was smiling again.
“Don’t steal it.” You said firmly.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He answered easily, “Plus I’m not sure Master Nu likes me very much. I tend to avoid the archives.”
Ha. You knew it.
Smirking, you settled back into your chair with your back straight and your hands clasped on the table in front of you.
“Now, I believe you owe me a story?”
He mirrored your position, eyes twinkling once again.
“I must say I do… though I’m afraid now it will be quite anticlimactic.”
You had figured as much. Still, it was hard earned.
“Tell it anyways.” You urged him on.
“Alright…” he leaned forward as if about to tell you a conspiracy plot “as I mentioned, we were learning to communicate via the force with Master Yoda. However, I hadn’t mentioned yet that there was a girl in my clan name Renya that I was quite infatuated with…” he continued telling the story with ease as ice began to fill your veins.
You sat straighter, but you could hardly listen to him. The hands you had clasped together on the table tightened and you bit the inside of your cheek as you tried to acknowledge your anger and let it go. Just as it had been taught to you.
But the feeling hadn’t left. Anger, jealousy, and fear danced around your emotions.
Here he sat, with a Padawan braid and chosen by a Master, telling a story about embarrassing himself in front of a crush. A weak attachment made against the teachings of the order.
And here you were, an Initiate close to their trails, listening. You couldn’t understand it. How some were able to reach heights you were desperate for without the dedication you held.
He was a Padawan, despite being flawed. You would never be a Padawan, despite crushing yourself into perfection.
Your thoughts swirled until only one emotion was left. A sadness that made you bones feel heavy and your skin feel tight.
“… and she heard everything of course. So did Master Yoda. I had to meditate for quite some time afterwards.” He finished the story slowly and carefully. The smile he wore having left his face some time ago.
You nodded your head but wouldn’t speak until your throat loosened around itself.
You weren’t looking at him anymore, but he didn’t speak again. Waiting for you as well.
“I…” you started to speak feeling lost in what you wanted to say. And decided it would be easier to speak without thinking. “I can’t relate to your story. And I can’t understand how you’re a Padawan learner, and I’m an Initiate that will likely fail their trail.”
He remained leaning towards you. Not to tell a story anymore, but to look closer at you. Eyes and jaw fixed and wholly unreadable.
The air in the room felt different. Colder. Thinner. You tried to focus on your breath to regain balance, but no matter how deeply you breathed your lungs didn’t feel full.
You had compartmentalized so much of your short life. Placed big thoughts that didn’t serve you into tiny boxes. One was bound to open eventually.
“It’s alright.” His voice was quieter and deep in pitch.
You took five more breaths. It didn’t help. You tried to clear your mind, but it felt overflown.
Until something had shifted, and you could feel the warmth of the room surrounded you once again. The concrete table felt like it had just sat in the sun for a day rather than walled within the Temple. You breathed for a sixth time, and didn’t even need to pull the air all the way down before feeling fulfilled.
You felt a presence outside of yourself within the field around you. It was enveloping, and it was comforting. You wanted to say it was unwelcome, but it brought you to much relief. So you didn’t acknowledge the Padawan’s involvement.
You breathed in. Then out. Once more by yourself.
Finally, when you began to feel your balance return, you started your own story.
“I know I’m going to fail my trial.” You admitted out loud for the first time. No longer questioning if that would happen, but simply acknowledging it as the truth.
To his credit, he didn’t try to push back on what you said. He didn’t try to tell you it was a fear that was clouding your judgement. He waited and he listened.
“I’ve seen it happen. I know what will happen in the next six months.” The little time that you did spend asleep you had been visited by dreams that were too clear, too scented, and too lived in to be anything other than a vision.
Although uncommon for someone your age, you saw through the Force an answer to a question you’d been asking your whole life.
The Jedi would not choose you though you were taken by them.
“I am secure with the Force. I am well practiced. I have not strayed from the code we are taught.” You paused looking pointedly at the Padawan, “I have no attachments. No memory of a family. No desire for a life built outside the order. But I will fail my test.”
You had seen it in bits and pieces at first. You heard the Master’s speaking about you, though you hadn’t understood it yet. The room was filled with concerns.
The visions wouldn’t show you what you’ve done. Though it was certainly forbidden.
“I will do something… though I’m unsure of what. Something that no Master will approve of.” You confessed to your nameless companion.
You thought speaking it all out loud would cause the ground to collapse beneath you. That the world around you would tumble into itself.
You didn’t expect to feel a cage lifted off of you. The odd relief of sharing.
“You’ve been having visions?” He asked quietly.
He didn’t look like the Padawan that had teased you anymore. Without amusement brightening his features, he seemed older. Less polished around the edge of his face. More tired and more stoic than you could’ve expected.
“Yes.” Your answer rang clearly in the room. It vibrated the air fiercely and then dimmed until finally settling.
“That’s my story. I know what will happen in six months, but nothing beyond there. I feel my life ending.”
“It’s not.” He answered fiercely. “It’s not…” he repeated sounding desperate for something you didn’t understand.
“It is. Not wholly. Not completely. I know a new life will take its place. Plenty of Initiates don’t become Padawans.” It was something you knew but didn’t feel yet. The idea clung to your skin without absorbing through to your bones.
“You’re very wise for someone very young.” He said solemnly.
“I’m not wise, but I am terrified.” You whispered admitting to your feelings.
“I know,” he confessed, “I could feel it as I walked past you. Maybe before.”
“So it wasn’t the blaster marks?” You questioned softly.
“No,” he leaned back in his chair sighing “it wasn’t the blaster marks. I-“ he paused, looking unsure whether or not he should continue. “I haven’t felt someone’s emotions so clearly before without intending to.” He admitted slowly.
“Can you still feel my emotions?” You wondered considering you felt he had been oblivious.
“I’m actively trying not to actually.” He said with a wince “I think I may have done it a little too well.”
You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, that makes more sense.”
He chuckled and you leaned back in your chair as well. Mirroring his posture.
“Are you going to tell anyone?” You asked, already suspecting his answer.
“No,” he started “No I don’t think so.”
“Why?”
“I’m not sure.” He admitted, “My Master always emphasizes to me that the Force is our teacher. Although we have a code as Jedi, it should be the Force that leads us. It led me to talking with you, but I don’t feel it leading me to intervene. Just to listen.”
He shifted in his seat looking like he wanted to say more. You stayed silent before he continued,
“I know it’s not the same… but I can relate to what you’re saying. I wasn’t accepted as a Padawan at first.”
Now that you were aware he could sense your emotions, you could feel him opening the door. Checking your emotions to see if he should continue. You weakly nodded.
“I wasn’t accepted originally. I… didn’t know what to do. I felt like my life was ending as well, but then I was presented with options.”
“Leaving or the Service Corp.” You answered, filling in the blanks.
“Yes,” he said melancholicly, “leaving or the corp. I chose the Corp. Agriculture actually.”
Thoughtlessly, your chin ducked into your neck as you took in your shock.
“That surprises you?” He asked, interrupting his own story.
“I just…” you started and took in his appearance once again. “I can’t picture you as a farmer.”
That made him laugh.
“I was quite good actually!” He said proudly, “I liked working with my hands. I liked getting out of the city.”
You understood that well enough.
“Anyways… as I worked on Bandomeer a Jedi named Qui-Gon Jinn was sent on a mission there. Some things… took a turn for the worst, but I was there and helped. It wasn’t the traditional way of becoming a Padawan, but Qui-Gon insisted.” He said, once again carefully as the story unfolded.
You understood why he was cautious in telling the story. There was an element of hope to what he was saying to you. Perhaps you would fail in six months time, but if the Force willed it you would become a Padawan by other means.
You breathed out all the air in your lungs just to fill the space with new air.
“Thank you.”
He held his hand up and shook his head slowly. “No need,” he said, “truly.”
You nodded, allowing yourself to sink in.
There was hope, maybe, but you didn’t feel it. You wouldn’t be a Jedi. You wouldn’t be a Padawan.
“It’s funny isn’t it… the Force.” You started, tilting yourself to face the window out to Coruscant. “It’s led me all this way… it leads so many of us here. I’ll miss it.”
“It’s not leaving you.” He rebutted.
“No but I’ll have to leave it, again, not completely. I’ll always be surrounded by it.” But you knew you would never master its ebbs and flows.
Thirteen years seemed short and so impossibly long. You wondered what life would’ve been like if you had a home to return to, or if you had never left it. You could have been naive and wild rather than wise and contained.
“Anyways,” you continued and turned away from the Cityscape and back to your strange Padawan, “I never did catch your name.”
“No, I suppose you didn’t.” He grinned, “My name's Obi-Wan.”
“Thank you, Obi-Wan.”