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The cool wind of the evening swirled through the circular stone structure at the Naboo palace. The breeze stirred and rustled Obi-Wan Kenobi's robe. It also caught a few strands of Qui-Gon Jinn's hair, blowing them around and then depositing them across his face, where they stayed. He didn't brush them out of his eye, he didn't move to tuck them behind his ear. He didn't because he couldn't.
He was gone; he was dead.
He wasn't sleeping, even for as peaceful as he looked. Obi-Wan moved forward and brushed his fingers across Qui-Gon's cheek, pushing the strands off his face. The coldness of his Master's skin sent a shuddering chill through Obi-Wan's body. He had held the Jedi Master as he died and felt the warmth of his body, his life force, ebb, yet the reality of the coldness still didn't fail to shock him. Obi-Wan let his gaze settle on the lifeless form before him, struggling to accept what he saw - his Master's dead body. It just didn't feel real. Not that he had any idea how losing the most important person in his life was supposed to feel like, but he did know that nothing felt right and he never meant it to be like this.
Today he would become a Knight. He had dreamed about this moment for as long as he could remember. And always, he imagined himself and Qui-Gon standing in the center of the Council Chamber room while Qui-Gon cut his Padawan braid, keeping it as a reminder of their training and lives together. They were meant to be celebrating his achievement as one, like the team they always were. It was because of Qui-Gon that Obi-Wan even became a Knight, he should be here for this! No, in total cruelty of fate, Obi-Wan instead stood in the Naboo cremation room feeling completely alone and rushing through his Knighthood ceremony so he could burn his braid with Qui-Gon's body. That seemed appropriate to him and no one disagreed.
Obi-Wan barely heard Master Mace Windu suggest they begin, but he caught enough to startle him out of his grief. He turned and kneeled, the coldness of the stone radiated up into his legs, echoing the same lifeless sensation he felt from Qui-Gon's cheek. Obi-Wan had asked Master Yoda to perform the ritual on Qui-Gon's behalf. The diminutive master walked forward to Obi-Wan's side and wrapped his small fingers around the braid. Feeling the slight tug, Obi-Wan closed his eyes against collecting tears. As the metallic razor grazed the skin behind his ear, the young Jedi failed to suppress a small smile at his accomplishment. He was now a Knight, the one thing he'd worked and lived his life for, now finally his to own. But even that brief moment of pride stung bittersweet. It wasn't Qui-Gon who held his braid now. The accomplishment left him hollow. He may have killed a Sith lord, but he wasn't able to save his Master, so what kind of Knight does that make him?
Master Yoda, with braid in hand, stepped back, and took a deep breath before speaking.
"There is no emotion; there is peace.
There is no ignorance; there is knowledge.
There is no passion; there is serenity.
There is no death; there is the Force.
May it always be with you."
"And with you," Obi-Wan responded by rote. The Code mantra, the only words Obi-Wan ever heard come out of Yoda that did not become twisted by his typical phrasing. Yoda reached out and placed the braid into Obi-Wan's hand. In his mental numbness, Obi-Wan almost didn't feel it, so light, so long. He stared at it for a moment, rubbing the hair with this thumb, acknowledging what it meant for this braid to no longer be hanging over his shoulder. All the Council members had collected for the ritual and patiently watched the young Jedi take this moment of reflection.
Obi-Wan stood and turned towards Qui-Gon's still form. He moved close and took his Master's right hand, laying the braid into his palm. He wrapped his own hands around Qui-Gon's, closing the fingers around the braid. Knowing that as soon as he removed his hands the older Jedi's hand would relax and the braid would fall, Obi-Wan held the fist in place. If only for this moment, his braid would press into Qui-Gon's skin like it had so many times before. Obi-Wan's mind spun with memories of the affectionate and fatherly tugs that Qui-Gon had often given the braid in mock reprimand. It always annoyed Obi-Wan when he did that, but now the former Padawan would give anything in the universe to feel it again. He'd give his knighthood, without hesitation, without contemplation. His own hands warmed Qui-Gon's cold fingers and for that single moment, things were right.but only for a moment.
Obi-Wan released his grip and watched Qui-Gon's hand fall back to it's limp state, dropping the braid onto the briar. Obi-Wan let it be. Nothing more could be done and nothing could be said that the Masters who silently watched him wouldn't construe as blasphemy. Obi-Wan's emotions were still too raw for him to express what truly echoed in his mind. And though he had willingly taken the weight of Qui-Gon's legacy and convictions on his shoulders, Obi-Wan hoped to keep the memory of his respected Master alive and well. He also hoped that the pain and despair at losing the greatest person he'd ever known wouldn't eat him alive. But, the future was always in motion, the past was the past and Obi-Wan, by continuing to stand at his Master's deathbed, only delayed the inevitable. Obi-Wan finally resolved to back away from the body, taking his place along the circular stone half-wall and pulled his hood up over his head. With that, all Masters lifted their hoods as well. The Knighthood ritual had finished, the funeral had begun.