Author's Notes: Okay...this is the final installment of the Time series... I feel like I am saying goodbye to a good bunch of friends...
I am glad to have gotten this out of my mind and onto ....um...screen? The last few chapters have been very hard and I am eternally glad for the help of Emmy, and Diebin for encouragement. Thank you sibs!
And for the planning help and beginning characterization steps from Kim. She was there in the beginning and helped me to flesh this out. Thank you, Kim! You are the best!
DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc and 20th Century Fox. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.
“And he did what?”
“Climbed the tree…got his tunic caught…and I learned so many new words that day….my mother had to fix the tears before he went back to Yoda.”
Obi-Wan chuckles, leaning back in the chair. His glass of heady wine, other than staining his full lips red, has served to temper his seriousness. His chair is tipped back slightly, but his large feet are planted firmly on the ground. His brown boots shine in the sunlight filtering through the window. His tunic pants and top have been replaced with a gentle shirt…white and laced and a pair of usable black pants.
You don’t know what has possessed you, but today…this afternoon…in the kitchen…you feel like reminiscing. Maybe it is the sun through the curtains that Qui-Gon helped to hang; maybe it is the smell of the fresh turned dirt outside; maybe the sound of birds mating the trees…maybe it is nothing, but your heart trying to heal. Obi-Wan has been with you for the last month, just existing by your side. But in the last week, you both have begun to reach out to one another. Reaching to remember a man that you both loved, equally and differently.
“The look on his face was priceless. His hair was not as long as it was…but he always wore it longer than he should have as a Padawan. It was a mass of tangles…leaves and sticks everywhere in it…but he got the fruit. He was fifteen, remember, and was without facial hair…so when the fruit banged against his face…it left purple stains…”
“Oh Gods…” Obi-Wan laughs a little harder. His hair is growing out…getting darker. You can see that he is going to grow it long, so like his father’s. Maybe not as heavy… His chest starts to shake with mirth that he cannot contain. You are getting to know the son you never knew…and it is special. His eyes turn to yours, urging you to continue.
“So…he had climbed the tree without a ladder…and had this face full of purple juice, a torn tunic, a head full of twigs and leaves…and Yoda walks by…and looks up into the tree and just slowly shakes his head and walks away….”you begin to laugh…Gods it has been so long. “And Qui-Gon just eats a fruit and tells me that he is communing with the Living Force…”
Obi-Wan sighs and leans back, flexing his arms behind his head. His chin is tilted up at the ceiling for a moment and you sigh. Your son is a handsome man - a tall and powerful one, and a very special one. Destined for greatness, was the wording that Qui-Gon used one night as he lay holding you. “So that was the first Harvest Festival that he attended?” he asks.
“The first…and the only for quite a few years...in fact…until three or so years after you were born…he came here very infrequently. He always came back…but he had many duties…”you smile. “He always kept that promise…even when we were friends…and especially when we were…”
“Lovers? Tira…I know you two were…how else would you and he have conceived me…?” he asks, his eyes shining with affection.
“Obi-Wan…” you say, your eyes drifting closed.
He sighs, and you feel the chair move back, the floorboards shaking. He rises to his full height, and he moves over to you slowly and then lays his hands on your shoulders. “It is a fact, Tira. I know the truth…you and he are my parents…although what that means to a Jedi exactly….” His mouth quirks in a slight smile. “I’ll have to meditate on that…”
You smile, allowing a small laugh to bubble out.
“We have to heal completely from this, and then we can work on our relationship. I would like to get to know you, your family…and what Qui-Gon was like as a young man. But…” he looks at the wall chrono and sighs. “We have to get the remainder of dinner from town if we are going to eat tonight.”
You nod, allowing him to squeeze your shoulders. He moves away, the slight smile still on his lips. As he sweeps up his new cloak, and places it on his shoulders, your grin widens. From the back, with his hair growing out and the Padawan tail gone, he looks like his father did at twenty. As he reaches the door, he turns. “Just down the path…?”
“To the right and then go for a half mile. The rations hold is there on the left side of the street. And thank you…”
“Don’t thank me…just make that dish you were talking about and we will call it even.” He laughs and moves through the door, his head held high and his shoulders back, but relaxed. He moves through the lattacework patterns of sunlight on the path and into the curve that carries him away.
You stand by the door watching until he rounds the bend, disappearing into the afternoon. And what an afternoon, lazy and warm….You turn to move to the sink and are stopped by a shadow that graces the bedroom door.
“Tira, love?”
You stop in place, your feet like rooted on the ground.
He stands in front of you, tall and imposing as he was in life. His tunic is bright white, and his face unlined, his hair thick and brown. Surrounding him is a pale blue outline, shimmering in the darkness of the interior of the house. His stance is one of relaxation, his legs slightly spread, his arms loose. He looks the same as he did the day he passed his trials…so strong, so young…so…
Yours….
His eyes are like lights in the dimness. They twinkle like they always have…with love and affection…and it is that familiarity in the eyes that you never thought you would see again that breaks you out of your inactivity.
“Love?”
You breathe slowly, rocking on your heels. The wind from the afternoon blows across the floor, bringing in some leaves with it. They sweep across the floor, scratching at the boards, until they lodge in the corner. And you just stare. Transfixed, but not shocked for some reason. No, not shocked at all…
You step forward, moving toward him, and reach out a hand to touch his slightly cool chest. Leave it to Qui-Gon to return to you. Even across death. Somehow you knew he would. You have always known. His arms come up and barely hold you, their cool surface brushing against you and something like a current passes through you. Now you know why you felt such a pull to remember your youth to Obi-Wan today.
“You are here,” you state, mumbling into his almost surreal chest..not quite solid. “I had hoped…Mace told me…”
“That if I could, I would?” His voice is low as it has always been, but the rumbling in his chest is not pronounced at all. “I promised that I would…that it would be the last mission, love? Did you doubt me?”
You shake your head forcefully. The knot of your hair on your head tumbles down and Qui-Gon runs his hands through it with a happy sigh. "Gods, I have missed you…missed Obi-Wan…”
You tilt your head back, feeling the same hot breeze from outside glance across your legs. “So have you decided to come home now, Jedi…and stop this incessant wandering of yours?”
His fingers, cold against your skin, brush your cheek. It is so strange that this is happening…so incredible…and yet it is common place in your heart. Expected…where else would he go? Mace had told you that Jedi are able to exist in the Force..that they venture to where they are need most…to where they feel the most comfortable. Indeed, where else would he go?
“I am here to stay, love. For so long as I can, and as long as you want me here.” He answers. His eyes search yours, pulling at your soul.
A sole bird calls outside and you smile. He grins in return. The birds always did love Qui-Gon…his presence of self…his magnetism. You had always told him that where he was…a flock was sure to follow. The birds have been absent recently…choosing to not nest in their time-honored positions in the trees outside. But they have returned.
You remember the story of the Yutilde bird. It is a traveling bird…it sails away from its nest at birth, disappearing into the sky. Every once in a while it returns, to line its childhood nest, to mate, to visit…but it never stays…until the end of its life. Then it soars out of the sky, swooping, landing on its nest. And there it stays. Forever...
So like Qui-Gon…
It’s mate waits forever, sitting in that same nest…going about her life, silent, raising the young, until the mate returns for good. Then her song rises out of the mists to sound the most beautiful trill heard in the forest. Singing in happiness…sounding her joy.
So like your heart right now.
Love takes adjustment…you have learned this. This…simply…is just another adjustment…
His arms tighten and you stand there, basking in the late afternoon sun as it sweeps into your hovel. No talking is necessary…not right at that moment…no… silence is golden between you…and it is as if the pain never happened, as if his death never occurred.
You do…after all… have the rest of your life.