Title: Meditations of a Jedi.
Rating: G, do I ever write anything else?
Distribution: The Archive. Force Haven. Anyone else, just ask.
Disclaimer: I don't own these guys or the events. They are the sole property of GL.
Warnings: Nothing really, unless you have no idea what happens in the movies, then it is a spoiler.
Pairings: Not really, hints of Obi/Ani.
Summary: Obi's reflections of Anakin and his time together.
Author's Note: Wrote on the spur of the moment when I decided that the Anakin drabble needed a companion, not related to the other works.

Love is both nothing and everything to a Jedi; I have learned this the hard way.

From the first moment I heard of him, he was `the boy' to me. I knew at that moment that `the boy' was the cause of the elusive disturbance I had felt in the Force on the Trade Federation ship.

It did not take one with the sight to know that someone with that level of aptitude in the Force was destined to do great things. Great things, indeed, but which side of the Force would `the boy' choose to serve?

It was not jealousy or envy that caused me to feel the danger from `the boy'.

There was something more to it than that for I had learned well from my Master and friend, Qui-Gon that such feelings were unprofitable and helped none.

`The boy' took my hand when Qui-Gon introduced us and I felt the strong contradictions within him, threatening to tear him apart-and with him, me.

His eyes sought mine and I searched them, seeing the plea within them.

A plea I had seen before in so many eyes, begging me to take away the pain and fear.

To remove from him the sorrow and break the chains binding his soul in tight fetters that held him captive to the past, to promise him freedom from it all.

One that I simply could not break for I did not want to see past my feelings of the danger `the boy' exuded from every pore of his body.

How appropriate, though, that his eyes were a deep blue.

Depths within depths that only ended in bottomless darkness where no light would ever penetrate.

I saw the darkness first, the danger that the Council felt, and clung to that image before I allowed myself to see the light.

To see `the boy's' light as Qui-Gon had pleaded with me to see and feel it, on that day I ceased to think of him as `the boy'. He became Anakin to me.

Still, I would not truly see until to late what truth lay behind those eyes that lost their effervescent shine to a cold arrogance. A misplaced, yet somehow rightful pride in his abilities and a desire for power stole the innocence and affectionate joy from his life, and from my own. He found another to answer the pleas within his soul, one who slowly stole his ability to love with all his heart from him. All he ever needed was for me to see what he truly needed-and that was all of me.

For all my devotion and feelings to be centered and given to him without restraint. This should not have surprised me for it is something that all Padawans seek from their Masters at one time or other. I had often sought that approval, that sense of belonging to someone from the first moment I understood Master/Padawan bonds. Even when Qui-Gon did not want me, I sought it from him when first we met.

Oh, Qui-Gon, how could you ask this of me? How could you believe that I would be able to give him what he truly needed when I was so unprepared for that burden? Why did you think it possible when I was no more a true Master to him than he could ever be a true Padawan to me? A Jedi he desired to be, but he did not want to waste time being a Padawan Learner.

Of all things to say to me, why had it been to train him? Was it that you knew how you had always been first in my life and hoped that I would transfer that affection to him? I could not have been less prepared for taking on an apprentice than I was that day that I promised my Master that I would do so. I was even less prepared for the Council to agree to let me do so, knowing how they felt.

Yet, they did. They did and I found myself with a young boy who could not truly be called a child whose whole life rested in my hands. The life of a gifted young man who needed more from me than I felt right to give him for fear of what it may do to me. A young man whom I both loved and feared for what lay beneath the surface of his life.

I did the best I could and my best was not good enough to save him. Taking Anakin under my wing, I trained him as I had been trained while fumbling around for the best words to speak to him. A thousand worlds I can enslave, I could bring peace to, with the power of my words, and they were all for naught whenever they truly mattered. They failed me whenever I tried to speak to Anakin.

What more could I have done for this man that I love as part of myself? As we cross swords and words, I wonder how I could have let us fall so far apart that he could not trust me. I wonder how I could not have once, just once, reached out in friendship and love for him, to let him now that I understand. To let him see how, impossible as it may seem, that I hurt when he hurt.

Fighting back tears, I stare down at him. Clenched in my fist, my lightsaber waited for me to make the final decision for which there was no turning back. Knowing what he is now, seeing it in those depthless eyes, I find that I cannot move my arm either way. I cannot kill this man in mercy or in hate for I do not feel either for him right now.

I turn and walk away, half hoping to hear him call out to me. Though knowing that one day we would meet again, that his fragile and unformed hate for me would become a weapon, I can do no less. For this is `the boy' of old, the young Padawan I trained, Anakin whom I loved dearly, and, at the end, the Sith who did what had to be done. I see all that he was and all that he is, I live in hope for what he may truly become.

And that is not this wretched being I leave behind who spits both his hatred and love at me.


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