Another fic
Feb. 15th, 2006 11:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
matrilI wrote this not long after Episode III came out. Now I'm posting it at last.
(edit: Experimenting with lj cuts...)
The First Duel
On Naboo, stinging from Qui-Gon’s loss as if from a fresh, gaping wound, Obi-Wan had seized upon Anakin’s training as the only thing to steady him. Standing up to the Council, ready to defy them if necessary, was a new and heady sensation, and he floated on it all the way to Coruscant.
Back in the Jedi Temple, faced with his new padawan, he came crashing back to the ground.
Anakin thoroughly bewildered him. The prospect of training any apprentice would have been daunting enough – he had still been a padawan himself scant days ago! – but Anakin was a particular and peculiar challenge. The boy was an exception to every rule. The highest midichlorian count in history, yet undetected on a remote world until the proper age to start training had long passed. Refused training by the Council, then granted it mostly to honor the dead Jedi who had believed in him.
What did you see in him, Master? Obi-Wan watched Anakin curiously as he wandered through their new quarters, his eyes wide. Remarkably strong in the Force, no doubt about that – but he was such an odd little boy, awed by the crowded skylines of Coruscant and nonchalant as he spoke of building a working protocol droid from spare parts. The Chosen One, his master had insisted. Obi-Wan frowned. What right did he have to train the Chosen One?
Because no one else would do it. And it had to be done.
“Anakin?” he said aloud. The boy turned, startled.
“Yes, sir? I mean, Master Obi-Wan. Did I do something wrong?”
Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. “No, of course not. I was simply going to suggest that we get ready for bed. We’ll have a full day tomorrow.”
“Oh.” Anakin’s eyes lit up. “Are we going to start training?”
“We already did,” Obi-Wan reminded him. “All the things I taught you about meditating, learning to be calm, when we were on our way back from Naboo – those are some of the most important things a Jedi must learn.”
“I guess. But I meant, really training. With a laser sword and all that.”
Laser sword! Obi-Wan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It would be a good long time before Anakin was ready for –
But on the other hand, most younglings were given the chance to practice with a lightsaber – a safer, non-cutting lightsaber, of course – before being apprenticed to a master. Anakin was already so far behind; if he were to ever catch up –
“Well, Anakin, we’ll see,” he said carefully. “Be patient. You will learn everything you need to know in time.”
“Yes, si – Master.”
In silence, they began to prepare to sleep. Obi-Wan supposed he ought to fill the silence with some sort of teaching moment – he strained to remember Qui-Gon’s techniques from the early days of his apprenticeship, but it all seemed to blend together. Perhaps, tomorrow, he should ask for Master Yoda’s advice.
And get, in return, a little smile that said I told you so.
What he really needed, and would never have again, was his old master’s guidance. With a pang Obi-Wan lay in his bed, as the image of Qui-Gon with surprised agony on his face played itself over and over in his mind.
A moment later, he realized Anakin was crying.
In alarm, he rose, came to the boy’s bed and knelt at its side. “What is it, Anakin? What’s the matter?”
A sniffle. In the darkened room, Obi-Wan could just barely make out Anakin’s face, half-buried in the covers. “I’m sorry, Master. It’s just – when it’s nighttime – it’s all dark and lonely – and I just can’t help thinking of my mother.”
Obi-Wan swallowed. In all his worries about becoming Anakin’s master, the possibility of having to comfort his tears had never occurred to him. He could not think what to say.
Anakin sat up, his wet face eerie in the moonlight that streamed through the window. “I know I’m not supposed to – that’s what they said in the Council – I’m not supposed to think about her. But it’s just not fair! I miss her. I really miss her.”
“Anakin –” Obi-Wan searched frantically for the proper thing to say. “I’m sure it’s very hard for you, to be separated from your mother for the first time. I – miss Qui-Gon in much the same way.”
“I miss Qui-Gon too,” Anakin said shakily. “He was always so nice to me and Mom.” He hiccupped. “You’re not saying – you don’t think Mom’s going to die, do you?”
Obi-Wan was half-dismayed, half-exasperated. “That’s not what I meant at all. I’m just saying – we all lose people we care about – by death, by separation, for whatever reason. But a Jedi must be strong. You have to keep going. Focus on your training; learn to become a Jedi. I’m sure it’s what your mother would want.”
Anakin was quiet. Then he whispered, “Don’t look back.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing. It’s just – I’ll be all right now, Master. Good night.”
Still perplexed and not exactly satisfied, Obi-Wan replied, “Good night,” and went back to bed.
Obi-Wan ended up going to see Master Yoda the next morning anyway, but not, he told himself determinedly, for advice. He simply needed to obtain a pair of training lightsabers. For, he had decided, Anakin would do well to have one in his hands as soon as possible. It would be some time before he was ready for a real saber, but the sooner he started training, the sooner that time would come.
Yoda was in the youngling’s practice room, readying the equipment for his next class. Obi-Wan paused at the doorway, recalling fondly his days in this room; the day he had first grasped a lightsaber in his uncertain hands, the moment when he had truly let the Force guide his movements and the saber seemed to become a part of him, the morning when he had bid Yoda farewell and gone with Qui-Gon to a new world of master and apprentice.
Without turning, Yoda said, “Wish to speak with me, did you?” Obi-Wan expected to hear a knowing chuckle in his voice, but there was none.
“Ah...I – no, I just needed –”
“No shame there is, in asking for help,” Yoda interrupted gently, hobbling across the room to Obi-Wan’s side. “Many new masters have come here. Taking on an apprentice, a difficult task it is. For you,” he finished soberly, “more than any other.”
Obi-Wan restrained the urge to bristle. “Because I’m barely more than a padawan myself?” he asked as calmly as possible.
Now Yoda chortled. “Hmm! Your greatest fear, this is? Your inexperience?”
“No,” Obi-Wan admitted. “It’s the boy.”
“Powerful in the Force he is,” Yoda told him. “Quickly he will learn. Of this, above all else, you must be wary.”
“Wary of his learning quickly?” Obi-Wan repeated, confused. “Why?”
“Pride,” Yoda answered simply. “A dangerous trait, it is.”
If there was anything Anakin did not seem to be, it was prideful. Obi-Wan shook his head. “Well, I’ll keep that in mind.” He glanced toward the equipment rack. “Master Yoda, I actually came here to borrow some training sabers. I think it’s best to get Anakin started with a lightsaber as soon as possible.”
Master Yoda merely nodded. “Take what you need.”
After Obi-Wan had selected two sabers and was on his way out, he heard Yoda call out behind him, “Master Obi-Wan?” He turned with a twinge, unused to the new title. Yoda’s face was serious. “May the Force be with you, in your Padawan’s training.”
“Thank you, Master.”
Anakin was waiting in the training room Obi-Wan had reserved for the morning. He was fiddling with the lighting controls, dimming and brightening the room at headache-inducing speed. Obi-Wan sighed. That was one thing he was going to have to teach Anakin very soon – how to curb that restlessness. The whole way back from Naboo the boy had hardly been able to sit still, clearly impatient with Obi-Wan’s attempts to teach him meditation.
“Anakin!”
He faced Obi-Wan with a jolt. “I’m sorry, Master. I – I got bored. And this is very interesting…I was trying to see how it works.”
“It’s all right, Anakin,” Obi-Wan sighed. “But you don’t need to know how it works – we have plenty of technicians to worry about that. In the future, I would suggest using any spare time you have for meditation, for becoming in tune with the Force.”
“Yes, Master,” Anakin said quickly. Obi-Wan allowed himself a small smile. If nothing else, the boy was anxious to please.
“All right. Well, I’ve brought us some sabers –”
Anakin’s eyes fell on the two handles that Obi-Wan held, and his mouth dropped. “Really? Are you really going to give me one of those?”
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “Try not to interrupt me, Anakin.”
“Sorry, Master,” he flushed.
“Now, to answer your question, yes, I’m going to give you a lightsaber, and no, not to keep. That will come later. This is simply a practice saber – you couldn’t cut your hair with one of these. But it is sufficient for our purposes.” He paused and considered how to impress upon Anakin the seriousness of a lightsaber. “When a padawan has proven capable with a practice saber and is ready to receive his own weapon, it is a rather solemn occasion. A lightsaber is a Jedi’s only weapon, a defensive tool that requires an elegance and skill far beyond that of a common blaster. It is also a symbol to the rest of the Republic of what the Jedi are – keepers of the peace, restorers of justice, a civilizing pull on the rest of the galaxy. Never forget what it symbolizes; never take it for granted.”
Anakin’s eyes were wide. “Yes, Master.” He hesitated. “Uh...can I have the lightsaber now?”
“Just a moment, Anakin.” Obi-Wan attached one of them to his belt and held out the other at Anakin’s eye level. “This is the handle. Here, the activating switch.” He pressed it, and the blade slid out with a hum. Anakin let out a breath of delight.
After demonstrating a few basic positions and moves, Obi-Wan turned off the blade. “All right. Take it.” Anakin eagerly accepted the saber. He ran his hands over the handle, examining every detail. Obi-Wan suspected if he were alone he might try to take it apart and put it back together. The boy’s finger crept to the switch, then stopped. He looked up.
“Can I turn it on, Master?”
Obi-Wan smiled. “Thank you for asking first. Yes, you may.”
Delightedly, Anakin activated the blade and watched the shaft of blue slide out. In slow motion, he attempted a few of the moves Obi-Wan had shown him. His movements were not entirely certain, but they carried a grace and nascent skill that astonished Obi-Wan.
“Not bad, Anakin,” he acknowledged. “You haven’t used anything like this before, have you?”
“Oh, no,” the boy shook his head, bringing the blade down carefully. “Why?”
“You seem to have a natural knack for it,” Obi-Wan answered, giving his shoulder a pat. “You know how to use the Force to guide your movements.”
“I do?” Anakin almost frowned. “I wasn’t thinking about it.”
“That’s exactly right.” Obi-Wan regarded him seriously. “The more you let go, the more the Force can guide you. It’s not something conscious so much as something deep inside; in your feelings, not your thoughts.”
Anakin furrowed his brow in concentration. “I see.”
“Now.” Obi-Wan pulled out the other practice saber. “I’m going to try a few attacks. You fend them off with the blocks that I have taught you. Don’t try to guess which attack I’ll use next; rely on the Force.”
“All right.” Determined, perhaps just a little nervous, Anakin raised his blade. Obi-Wan turned on his own saber and lifted the blade to a vertical position, closed his eyes for a moment. He could feel the humming just in front of his nose, felt the saber’s strength resonating throughout his body, even from a harmless practice blade.
Here was the true joy of being a Jedi. Obi-Wan smiled. And lunged.
Anakin blocked it.
Obi-Wan pulled back, blinking. It hadn’t been a particularly difficult attack; if Anakin had failed to stop it, the blade probably wouldn’t have more than brushed his sleeve. But Obi-Wan had assumed that his burst from calm stillness into fighting mode would catch Anakin by surprise. Instead, the boy had been ready and capable. And he was grinning.
Obi-Wan grinned back. Let it be a challenge, then. For both of them. He tried something trickier. Anakin barely stopped it, his face intent. Without pausing, Obi-Wan pressed into the next attack, this time catching the end of Anakin’s padawan braid. The boy jumped back, shaking it loose.
“As I said,” Obi-Wan laughed, “couldn’t even cut your hair.”
Anakin responded by bounding forward with an attack of his own. Stymied, Obi-Wan just barely lifted his blade in time. “I hadn’t taught you that yet,” he said as their sabers clashed.
“I was just doing what I saw you do,” Anakin protested. “Don’t I need to learn attacks, too?”
“Since you’ve already learned the defenses so quickly,” Obi-Wan shrugged, “you might as well go on and learn the rest of it.” And he slashed toward Anakin’s right, where the boy’s saber was suddenly ready, pushing him back. To the left, and upper right, left again. Another attack from Anakin, easily blocked this time, but only because he had been expecting it. Obi-Wan’s height and strength gave him an obvious advantage, but Anakin was definitely holding his own. Because of his superior experience, Obi-Wan had been going easy on his padawan, but with every block he increased the difficulty of his attacks, determined to test the boy’s strength to its core.
They had been sparring for some time, both sweating and neither one interested in stopping, when Obi-Wan realized they had an audience. Small at first, a few Jedi passing by the doorway and stepping back in curiosity, until more and more gathered to watch the duel. Anakin remained unaware of them, his concentration entirely focused on the fight, his eyes narrowed in the intensity of his newfound abilities. Obi-Wan pressed him, still not opening up the full extent of his powers, but coming quite close before Anakin finally lost his blade, gasping as it clattered to the ground, heaving great breaths.
Abruptly, the spectators burst into applause. Anakin whirled, saw the crowd for the first time and turned bright red. Obi-Wan noted that while most of the audience consisted of wide-eyed padawans, there were a few full-fledged Jedi among them, nodding at Anakin in approval.
Obi-Wan could only hope that Anakin’s embarrassment was a sign that he wouldn’t let the attention go to his head. With a smile he clapped his hand on Anakin’s shoulder. “Well done, my young Padawan,” he murmured. Louder, he announced, “All right, the show’s over. I’m sure you all have places you’re supposed to be.” Most of the padawans looked around guiltily, then scurried off. The others left in a more dignified manner, though one or two Jedi glanced back with appraising looks.
“What was that about?” Anakin asked when they were finally alone again. “Don’t they see fights like that all the time?”
“Not exactly,” Obi-Wan said carefully, wondering how to acknowledge Anakin’s skills without encouraging arrogance. “It takes most padawans a little longer to get the hang of it. Longer than the first day,” he added with a wry smile.
Anakin bit his lip. “I don’t mean to be different,” he muttered.
“Well, you are different, Anakin,” Obi-Wan pointed out gently. “You know that. But there’s nothing wrong with that. You have the potential to become an extraordinary Jedi. Isn’t that what you want?”
“I’ve always dreamed of it,” Anakin said earnestly. “It’s just – a little scary. To have it coming true.” Thoughtfully, he stooped down and picked up the saber, turned it over and over in his hand. “I’ve never felt anything like it – the only thing that came close was podracing. Feeling it in my hand like a part of me. Knowing what to do with it, without having to think about it.”
“Yes, that’s just it.” Obi-Wan bent and put both hands on Anakin’s shoulders, looked into his face excitedly. “It’s exhilarating, isn’t it? The Force is a wondrous thing.”
Anakin looked up at him. “I’m glad you’re my master, Obi-Wan,” he said shyly. “Thank you for teaching me.”
In all sincerity Obi-Wan replied, “I’m glad to be teaching you, Anakin.” And suddenly, beyond his promise to Qui-Gon, he found reason to be eager, delighted in being Anakin’s master. To witness, and even help the Chosen One become a Jedi.
(edit: Experimenting with lj cuts...)
The First Duel
On Naboo, stinging from Qui-Gon’s loss as if from a fresh, gaping wound, Obi-Wan had seized upon Anakin’s training as the only thing to steady him. Standing up to the Council, ready to defy them if necessary, was a new and heady sensation, and he floated on it all the way to Coruscant.
Back in the Jedi Temple, faced with his new padawan, he came crashing back to the ground.
Anakin thoroughly bewildered him. The prospect of training any apprentice would have been daunting enough – he had still been a padawan himself scant days ago! – but Anakin was a particular and peculiar challenge. The boy was an exception to every rule. The highest midichlorian count in history, yet undetected on a remote world until the proper age to start training had long passed. Refused training by the Council, then granted it mostly to honor the dead Jedi who had believed in him.
What did you see in him, Master? Obi-Wan watched Anakin curiously as he wandered through their new quarters, his eyes wide. Remarkably strong in the Force, no doubt about that – but he was such an odd little boy, awed by the crowded skylines of Coruscant and nonchalant as he spoke of building a working protocol droid from spare parts. The Chosen One, his master had insisted. Obi-Wan frowned. What right did he have to train the Chosen One?
Because no one else would do it. And it had to be done.
“Anakin?” he said aloud. The boy turned, startled.
“Yes, sir? I mean, Master Obi-Wan. Did I do something wrong?”
Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. “No, of course not. I was simply going to suggest that we get ready for bed. We’ll have a full day tomorrow.”
“Oh.” Anakin’s eyes lit up. “Are we going to start training?”
“We already did,” Obi-Wan reminded him. “All the things I taught you about meditating, learning to be calm, when we were on our way back from Naboo – those are some of the most important things a Jedi must learn.”
“I guess. But I meant, really training. With a laser sword and all that.”
Laser sword! Obi-Wan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It would be a good long time before Anakin was ready for –
But on the other hand, most younglings were given the chance to practice with a lightsaber – a safer, non-cutting lightsaber, of course – before being apprenticed to a master. Anakin was already so far behind; if he were to ever catch up –
“Well, Anakin, we’ll see,” he said carefully. “Be patient. You will learn everything you need to know in time.”
“Yes, si – Master.”
In silence, they began to prepare to sleep. Obi-Wan supposed he ought to fill the silence with some sort of teaching moment – he strained to remember Qui-Gon’s techniques from the early days of his apprenticeship, but it all seemed to blend together. Perhaps, tomorrow, he should ask for Master Yoda’s advice.
And get, in return, a little smile that said I told you so.
What he really needed, and would never have again, was his old master’s guidance. With a pang Obi-Wan lay in his bed, as the image of Qui-Gon with surprised agony on his face played itself over and over in his mind.
A moment later, he realized Anakin was crying.
In alarm, he rose, came to the boy’s bed and knelt at its side. “What is it, Anakin? What’s the matter?”
A sniffle. In the darkened room, Obi-Wan could just barely make out Anakin’s face, half-buried in the covers. “I’m sorry, Master. It’s just – when it’s nighttime – it’s all dark and lonely – and I just can’t help thinking of my mother.”
Obi-Wan swallowed. In all his worries about becoming Anakin’s master, the possibility of having to comfort his tears had never occurred to him. He could not think what to say.
Anakin sat up, his wet face eerie in the moonlight that streamed through the window. “I know I’m not supposed to – that’s what they said in the Council – I’m not supposed to think about her. But it’s just not fair! I miss her. I really miss her.”
“Anakin –” Obi-Wan searched frantically for the proper thing to say. “I’m sure it’s very hard for you, to be separated from your mother for the first time. I – miss Qui-Gon in much the same way.”
“I miss Qui-Gon too,” Anakin said shakily. “He was always so nice to me and Mom.” He hiccupped. “You’re not saying – you don’t think Mom’s going to die, do you?”
Obi-Wan was half-dismayed, half-exasperated. “That’s not what I meant at all. I’m just saying – we all lose people we care about – by death, by separation, for whatever reason. But a Jedi must be strong. You have to keep going. Focus on your training; learn to become a Jedi. I’m sure it’s what your mother would want.”
Anakin was quiet. Then he whispered, “Don’t look back.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing. It’s just – I’ll be all right now, Master. Good night.”
Still perplexed and not exactly satisfied, Obi-Wan replied, “Good night,” and went back to bed.
Obi-Wan ended up going to see Master Yoda the next morning anyway, but not, he told himself determinedly, for advice. He simply needed to obtain a pair of training lightsabers. For, he had decided, Anakin would do well to have one in his hands as soon as possible. It would be some time before he was ready for a real saber, but the sooner he started training, the sooner that time would come.
Yoda was in the youngling’s practice room, readying the equipment for his next class. Obi-Wan paused at the doorway, recalling fondly his days in this room; the day he had first grasped a lightsaber in his uncertain hands, the moment when he had truly let the Force guide his movements and the saber seemed to become a part of him, the morning when he had bid Yoda farewell and gone with Qui-Gon to a new world of master and apprentice.
Without turning, Yoda said, “Wish to speak with me, did you?” Obi-Wan expected to hear a knowing chuckle in his voice, but there was none.
“Ah...I – no, I just needed –”
“No shame there is, in asking for help,” Yoda interrupted gently, hobbling across the room to Obi-Wan’s side. “Many new masters have come here. Taking on an apprentice, a difficult task it is. For you,” he finished soberly, “more than any other.”
Obi-Wan restrained the urge to bristle. “Because I’m barely more than a padawan myself?” he asked as calmly as possible.
Now Yoda chortled. “Hmm! Your greatest fear, this is? Your inexperience?”
“No,” Obi-Wan admitted. “It’s the boy.”
“Powerful in the Force he is,” Yoda told him. “Quickly he will learn. Of this, above all else, you must be wary.”
“Wary of his learning quickly?” Obi-Wan repeated, confused. “Why?”
“Pride,” Yoda answered simply. “A dangerous trait, it is.”
If there was anything Anakin did not seem to be, it was prideful. Obi-Wan shook his head. “Well, I’ll keep that in mind.” He glanced toward the equipment rack. “Master Yoda, I actually came here to borrow some training sabers. I think it’s best to get Anakin started with a lightsaber as soon as possible.”
Master Yoda merely nodded. “Take what you need.”
After Obi-Wan had selected two sabers and was on his way out, he heard Yoda call out behind him, “Master Obi-Wan?” He turned with a twinge, unused to the new title. Yoda’s face was serious. “May the Force be with you, in your Padawan’s training.”
“Thank you, Master.”
Anakin was waiting in the training room Obi-Wan had reserved for the morning. He was fiddling with the lighting controls, dimming and brightening the room at headache-inducing speed. Obi-Wan sighed. That was one thing he was going to have to teach Anakin very soon – how to curb that restlessness. The whole way back from Naboo the boy had hardly been able to sit still, clearly impatient with Obi-Wan’s attempts to teach him meditation.
“Anakin!”
He faced Obi-Wan with a jolt. “I’m sorry, Master. I – I got bored. And this is very interesting…I was trying to see how it works.”
“It’s all right, Anakin,” Obi-Wan sighed. “But you don’t need to know how it works – we have plenty of technicians to worry about that. In the future, I would suggest using any spare time you have for meditation, for becoming in tune with the Force.”
“Yes, Master,” Anakin said quickly. Obi-Wan allowed himself a small smile. If nothing else, the boy was anxious to please.
“All right. Well, I’ve brought us some sabers –”
Anakin’s eyes fell on the two handles that Obi-Wan held, and his mouth dropped. “Really? Are you really going to give me one of those?”
Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “Try not to interrupt me, Anakin.”
“Sorry, Master,” he flushed.
“Now, to answer your question, yes, I’m going to give you a lightsaber, and no, not to keep. That will come later. This is simply a practice saber – you couldn’t cut your hair with one of these. But it is sufficient for our purposes.” He paused and considered how to impress upon Anakin the seriousness of a lightsaber. “When a padawan has proven capable with a practice saber and is ready to receive his own weapon, it is a rather solemn occasion. A lightsaber is a Jedi’s only weapon, a defensive tool that requires an elegance and skill far beyond that of a common blaster. It is also a symbol to the rest of the Republic of what the Jedi are – keepers of the peace, restorers of justice, a civilizing pull on the rest of the galaxy. Never forget what it symbolizes; never take it for granted.”
Anakin’s eyes were wide. “Yes, Master.” He hesitated. “Uh...can I have the lightsaber now?”
“Just a moment, Anakin.” Obi-Wan attached one of them to his belt and held out the other at Anakin’s eye level. “This is the handle. Here, the activating switch.” He pressed it, and the blade slid out with a hum. Anakin let out a breath of delight.
After demonstrating a few basic positions and moves, Obi-Wan turned off the blade. “All right. Take it.” Anakin eagerly accepted the saber. He ran his hands over the handle, examining every detail. Obi-Wan suspected if he were alone he might try to take it apart and put it back together. The boy’s finger crept to the switch, then stopped. He looked up.
“Can I turn it on, Master?”
Obi-Wan smiled. “Thank you for asking first. Yes, you may.”
Delightedly, Anakin activated the blade and watched the shaft of blue slide out. In slow motion, he attempted a few of the moves Obi-Wan had shown him. His movements were not entirely certain, but they carried a grace and nascent skill that astonished Obi-Wan.
“Not bad, Anakin,” he acknowledged. “You haven’t used anything like this before, have you?”
“Oh, no,” the boy shook his head, bringing the blade down carefully. “Why?”
“You seem to have a natural knack for it,” Obi-Wan answered, giving his shoulder a pat. “You know how to use the Force to guide your movements.”
“I do?” Anakin almost frowned. “I wasn’t thinking about it.”
“That’s exactly right.” Obi-Wan regarded him seriously. “The more you let go, the more the Force can guide you. It’s not something conscious so much as something deep inside; in your feelings, not your thoughts.”
Anakin furrowed his brow in concentration. “I see.”
“Now.” Obi-Wan pulled out the other practice saber. “I’m going to try a few attacks. You fend them off with the blocks that I have taught you. Don’t try to guess which attack I’ll use next; rely on the Force.”
“All right.” Determined, perhaps just a little nervous, Anakin raised his blade. Obi-Wan turned on his own saber and lifted the blade to a vertical position, closed his eyes for a moment. He could feel the humming just in front of his nose, felt the saber’s strength resonating throughout his body, even from a harmless practice blade.
Here was the true joy of being a Jedi. Obi-Wan smiled. And lunged.
Anakin blocked it.
Obi-Wan pulled back, blinking. It hadn’t been a particularly difficult attack; if Anakin had failed to stop it, the blade probably wouldn’t have more than brushed his sleeve. But Obi-Wan had assumed that his burst from calm stillness into fighting mode would catch Anakin by surprise. Instead, the boy had been ready and capable. And he was grinning.
Obi-Wan grinned back. Let it be a challenge, then. For both of them. He tried something trickier. Anakin barely stopped it, his face intent. Without pausing, Obi-Wan pressed into the next attack, this time catching the end of Anakin’s padawan braid. The boy jumped back, shaking it loose.
“As I said,” Obi-Wan laughed, “couldn’t even cut your hair.”
Anakin responded by bounding forward with an attack of his own. Stymied, Obi-Wan just barely lifted his blade in time. “I hadn’t taught you that yet,” he said as their sabers clashed.
“I was just doing what I saw you do,” Anakin protested. “Don’t I need to learn attacks, too?”
“Since you’ve already learned the defenses so quickly,” Obi-Wan shrugged, “you might as well go on and learn the rest of it.” And he slashed toward Anakin’s right, where the boy’s saber was suddenly ready, pushing him back. To the left, and upper right, left again. Another attack from Anakin, easily blocked this time, but only because he had been expecting it. Obi-Wan’s height and strength gave him an obvious advantage, but Anakin was definitely holding his own. Because of his superior experience, Obi-Wan had been going easy on his padawan, but with every block he increased the difficulty of his attacks, determined to test the boy’s strength to its core.
They had been sparring for some time, both sweating and neither one interested in stopping, when Obi-Wan realized they had an audience. Small at first, a few Jedi passing by the doorway and stepping back in curiosity, until more and more gathered to watch the duel. Anakin remained unaware of them, his concentration entirely focused on the fight, his eyes narrowed in the intensity of his newfound abilities. Obi-Wan pressed him, still not opening up the full extent of his powers, but coming quite close before Anakin finally lost his blade, gasping as it clattered to the ground, heaving great breaths.
Abruptly, the spectators burst into applause. Anakin whirled, saw the crowd for the first time and turned bright red. Obi-Wan noted that while most of the audience consisted of wide-eyed padawans, there were a few full-fledged Jedi among them, nodding at Anakin in approval.
Obi-Wan could only hope that Anakin’s embarrassment was a sign that he wouldn’t let the attention go to his head. With a smile he clapped his hand on Anakin’s shoulder. “Well done, my young Padawan,” he murmured. Louder, he announced, “All right, the show’s over. I’m sure you all have places you’re supposed to be.” Most of the padawans looked around guiltily, then scurried off. The others left in a more dignified manner, though one or two Jedi glanced back with appraising looks.
“What was that about?” Anakin asked when they were finally alone again. “Don’t they see fights like that all the time?”
“Not exactly,” Obi-Wan said carefully, wondering how to acknowledge Anakin’s skills without encouraging arrogance. “It takes most padawans a little longer to get the hang of it. Longer than the first day,” he added with a wry smile.
Anakin bit his lip. “I don’t mean to be different,” he muttered.
“Well, you are different, Anakin,” Obi-Wan pointed out gently. “You know that. But there’s nothing wrong with that. You have the potential to become an extraordinary Jedi. Isn’t that what you want?”
“I’ve always dreamed of it,” Anakin said earnestly. “It’s just – a little scary. To have it coming true.” Thoughtfully, he stooped down and picked up the saber, turned it over and over in his hand. “I’ve never felt anything like it – the only thing that came close was podracing. Feeling it in my hand like a part of me. Knowing what to do with it, without having to think about it.”
“Yes, that’s just it.” Obi-Wan bent and put both hands on Anakin’s shoulders, looked into his face excitedly. “It’s exhilarating, isn’t it? The Force is a wondrous thing.”
Anakin looked up at him. “I’m glad you’re my master, Obi-Wan,” he said shyly. “Thank you for teaching me.”
In all sincerity Obi-Wan replied, “I’m glad to be teaching you, Anakin.” And suddenly, beyond his promise to Qui-Gon, he found reason to be eager, delighted in being Anakin’s master. To witness, and even help the Chosen One become a Jedi.
