#afterwards i was wondering whether i'm just being dramatic? but honestly i probably should have rung a crisis line maybe

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

by my internet going down for ? who knows how long time is fake, you were saved a long rambling post during which I went insane <3 all better now though

[siennahrobek]

“He’s holding me back,” Anakin snarled as Obi-Wan carefully paced a cup of steaming tea in front of him. He had come to the older master quite readily after he and Qui-Gon had joined their crew. Getting picked up by a fleet of venator class destroyers could either be incredibly embarrassing or quite impressive. Obi-Wan isn’t entirely sure which Anakin thinks. He had steeped Anakin something sweet and calming; exactly what the young knight needed. It was pretty much what he needed all the time, to be honest. The boy had more than just a bit of a temper.

Being around Qui-Gon Jinn didn’t exactly help.

The man rather indulged him.

Obi-Wan shrugged as he sat down on the opposite side of the thin table, shifting the cup towards Anakin and pulling his own closer. He made direct eye contact as he took a sip. Usually, it would prompt Anakin to do the same. In the company of certain people, Anakin sometimes mirrored others’ actions. Obi-Wan was one of those people. ���Perhaps. But you are no longer a padawan. A knight in your own right,” he assured gently. He honestly doubted that Qui-Gon was actually holding Anakin back; Obi-Wan was fairly certain no one could really hold him back.

Sometimes however, he could be convinced to step back once in a while. It was a rare occurrence, but it had happened before.

“He’s jealous of my power,” Anakin snapped, nearly cracking the mug his fingers were laced around. Obi-Wan gently put a hand over his to stop it and pull it away. Anakin’s fingers were trembling in the jedi’s own and Obi-Wan gave a gentle, assuring squeeze before he pushed the mug a little further into Anakin’s purview.

In the end, Obi-Wan had actually snorted. The concept was rather ridiculous, his master being anything of the sort. Anakin was thinking things, perhaps even told things like this, but it couldn’t be the truth. “Doubtfully,” he muttered, something low but able for the younger man to hear rather clearly. He cleared his voice to continue. “Qui-Gon Jinn isn’t jealous of anyone, least of all you, Anakin. Take a sip, you will feel better.”

He hesitated but Anakin did so, mirroring Obi-Wan. They drank in silence, but the air was turning more comfortable. Tension bled from his shoulders as they released, and he slumped down a little bit. Anakin’s temper always seemed to be running high these days and Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if he could help in a way that Anakin really needed. He only, currently, had momentarily solutions to a bigger issue.

“A bit better?” he asked. He knew the answer.

“Yeah,” Anakin admitted begrudgingly with a sigh, shaking his head. He glanced over down below the balcony and then back at Obi-Wan, something sad but fiery in his eyes. It was a rather strange combination, Obi-Wan had to admit. “I should be out here, with you. In the war. Fighting.”

“It is not as glamorous as you are thinking it is,” the older jedi just hummed, taking a sip of his own tea and once again, Anakin took his own sip. He wondered if the younger man realized what he did.

“I know that.”

“You don’t,” Obi-Wan refuted but it was kind and patient, shooting a look to project that when Anakin stared at him, a bit angry at his counter. He didn’t like people contradicting him or telling him what he knew. Usually he wouldn’t, but Obi-Wan knew that Anakin had no idea what war was actually like. Not like this. Obi-Wan just tried to keep himself as serene and enduring as ever, to deal with Anakin’s irritated and frustrated disagreements. “I would not expect you too, either. Master Jinn is right about one thing, we shouldn’t be fighting a war.”

“You agree with him?” Anakin sputtered, surprised. The concept was befuddling to him and Obi-Wan wondered what exactly he knew about the war. Master Jinn was certainly not favorable; he couldn’t imagine the older master saying anything nice about it. Perhaps he even spun falsehoods. “Then why do you?” Anakin asked.

Obi-Wan looked over the ledge that sat about the rest of the mess hall, off to the side. Down below them was the rest of the mess hall and cafeteria, littered and crawling with troopers. Obi-Wan could feel them, he could always feel them. They filled him with such warmth and care, it made it just a bit easier to get up each morning and fight in a war that he could not stand being in. Yes, it was to protect innocents, but he reminded himself everyday that he could do what he had to protect as many as them as well. “Reach out and tell me what you feel,” he added. It was more of a suggestion than a demand but rarely did Anakin see that kind of difference.

Anakin sighed and rolled his eyes, staring at him intently. “You are not my master, Obi-Wan.” This much was true. Anakin was a knight, he no longer needed – or wanted for that matter – a master telling him what to do, but Obi-Wan had a point. At his core, he always knew he would be a bit of a teacher. He always had a point.

“Humor me,” Obi-Wan glanced at him with a kind smile.

The younger man just sighed again, loud and dramatic, and eventually complied. He looked over, beyond the railing, down in the large room that harbored so many soldiers. Some of them were in their amor uniform, usually sans helmet and others in blacks. Officers had their own uniforms that they were hardly out of, whether they were clone or not. A minute passed. Two.

Obi-Wan just waited patiently.

But then. “What do you feel?”

“They are warm,” Anakin acknowledged, his voice starting to soften, just as Obi-Wan spotted his eyes doing the same. “Brighter than I expected them to be. “They are strong, loyal, determined. Doing their best and being their best. They care about one another such certainty and persistence.” His smile was gentle and kind, lacking the fiery passion that usually inhabited him.

He could make friends here, Obi-Wan thought.

But Obi-Wan just nodded and Anakin looked back at him. He was still in a bit of a daze, probably from seeing and feeling all that warmth and light, but he was still listening, probably expecting Obi-Wan to tell him his point for the exercise. Whether or not Obi-Wan would say anything, he knew that Anakin didn’t quite regret what the older master had asked of him. “They are living and breathing beings. Sentients with hopes and dreams, whether they admit it or not. Whether they consciously know it or not,” he started. Many times, had he heard that the soldiers only dreamed of the survival of themselves and their brothers from one day to the next and didn’t think of the future that they may have afterwards. Although Obi-Wan believed them, when they said such things, he also thought they had subconscious desires and dreams for that future. Hopes for it. Even if they hadn’t been able to quite realize them yet. He truly hoped he could help them get to that point.

“I know they are,” Anakin added quietly, staring down at his tea before taking a small sip, unprompted. Obi-Wan counted it as a win. It was hard enough for Anakin to drink tea, even when he knew it helped him.

“They are a large reason why I do this. Why I must,” Obi-Wan responded, just as soft, staring down at the gently swirling liquid in his cup.

Anakin glanced up at him, his head turning a bit. “What do you mean?”

Obi-Wan pointed to the corner of the mess hall, a small table inhabited by non-clones and non-jedi. There weren’t many of them, but Anakin had a thought that it was rather on purpose. They packed together, rather tightly and did not move away from their specific table, keeping together and not milling with anyone else around. “What do you feel from them?” he asked, a bit abruptly.

Anakin groaned again but it was light and only half-hearted, but did so, taking a breath before letting his eyes sweep over the room and then settle on the table in the corner. He closed his eyes briefly and reached. With a frown, he started to speak, to explain what he felt. It didn’t appear that he liked what he was feeling, what he found in them. “They…aren’t happy. But…not in the sense of war, not in grief or sadness but like, they are dim, displeased, annoyed. They feel…disgust? Indifference?”

Obi-Wan nodded. He had felt it.

“Do they…are their feelings because of the clones?” Anakin asked, startled at the thought and pending realization.

“Sometimes, yes. Those few right there think of the troopers much like the rest of the galaxy sees them. As though they are droids encased in flesh; worthy only to be cannon fodder,” Obi-Wan explain, only sparing those men a quick glance. He looked back at the troopers that made up most of the room and Anakin could feel him softening again.

Anakin’s lip curled as a snarl escaped out. The thought made him angry.

“They do not care so much for casualties, only absolute victory, no matter the cost,” Obi-Wan continued. “If they jedi were not here to use tactics and ideas that wouldn’t decimate the numbers…I imagine it would be much worse,” he sighed, shaking his head with a deepening frown. “The clones are so willing, so eager, so loyal. I do not quite understand how anyone can meet them and not love them.”

“You are trying to save them,” Anakin said and felt pushed around by the appreciation and care for the troopers. It was interesting to feel. Jedi were known for their compassion and kindness, their wiliness to help others, sometimes even at the cost of their own lives, but it felt a bit different with the troopers. Anakin was beginning to understand why the jedi may have chosen to enter the war; if only to try and help in any way they could. There was something different about these beings. Like they were somehow intertwined with the jedi. Made to be friends, to work together, made for one another in a way that was profound, and one Anakin couldn’t quite understand or comprehend in words. He wondered if others had noticed this.

“I am not so naïve to think I can do so,” Obi-Wan replied, breaking through Anakin’s thoughts. “But I want to get at least as many as I can through this war. They…care about us in a way we don’t generally see associated with the jedi. The least we can do is try to get them through this and return the favor the best we can.”

“Do other jedi feel this way?” Anakin hadn’t even realized he had spoke for a moment, verbally saying what he had been thinking just seconds prior. Sometimes he felt so different than others, like he was the only one who could connect on the level that he did. Like he was an exception.

Master Qui-Gon thought he was an exception.

Obi-Wan nodded and there was absolutely no hesitation to it. “Not everyone of course, but most, at the very least. Even if we hadn’t been drafted into the war, I think the Council would have done the same.”

“Drafted?” Anakin blinked.

“Yes.”

“Wait. So, the Order was forced to join the war?” Anakin asked incredulously because…that was not what he had heard. Over a year in and this was the first he had heard of such a thing.

Obi-Wan hesitated, like he wasn’t sure if he should be the one giving this information, like he wasn’t sure if he should be the one having this conversation, but his brows furrowed, and he nodded. “Yes, Anakin,” he replied slowly. He had to be careful with how he spoke. Anakin’s friendship with the leader of the Republic was not exactly a secret and everyone knew how protective Anakin was of his friends. “The Chancellor made it…very clear we did not have much of a choice.”

“Master Qui-Gon said you chose it,” Anakin responded, and he sounded numb, his voice just kind of dropping off in surprise.

You, Obi-Wan mused with darkening thoughts. Had Qui-Gon meant Obi-Wanspecifically chose this or was Qui-Gon distancing himself from the jedi already? Had his old master turned Anakin against the jedi; made him see himself an exception for everything? Chosen one or not, Anakin was a jedi. That was not to change unless Anakin chose to change it. But one could not continue to truly be a jedi if they thought of themselves as exceptions to the rules, to the guidelines, to the faith of their culture.

“No, Anakin,” his voice came out nearly as a croak. “The Order was drafted.”

“But Master Jinn…” Anakin drifted off, staring down at his tea. There was barely any of it left. “If the Jedi were drafted, not everyone is involved. Master Jinn, he…he’s not a part of it.”

“We found a loophole for him,” Obi-Wan confessed and it felt a bit different when he spoke it. He found a loophole for his former master; to ease the mess. He couldn’t imagine what Qui-Gon would have done or said if they hadn’t kept him out of it. Whether or not it was the right choice, Obi-Wan knew, even if they could get Qui-Gon to work within the confines of the war, he would almost certainly have become Obi-Wan’s problem. And Obi-Wan dealt with his old master enough as it was. “He was rather vehement in his stance on the war, so we claimed his injury and ability would make quote useless on the battle field,” he explained.

“His injury?” Anakin echoed.

“From Naboo.”

Anakin nodded in sudden understanding but his gaze was far off, nearly vacant, like there was something happening in his mind, wheels turning that not even Obi-Wan could fathom or comprehend. “I guess that is smart. He wouldn’t have listened anyways,” he confessed. It sounded rather fond, which wasn’t surprising. Anakin’s soft and often blind spot when it came to Master Jinn was always apparent. He loved Master Jinn’s blatant disregard for rules, to follow what he thought and believed was the will of the Force. Whether or not it actually was the Will of the Force, it hardly mattered. It was the will of Qui-Gon Jinn.

Qui-Gon often seemed to believe that he was the only one who really understood the will of the Force.

At this point, everyone was too tired and too busy to even try to argue with him. Not that anyone wanted to argue with him because it never did anything, never got anywhere. One could not change Jinn’s mind, could not shift his perspective or make him think in any other ways.

“Quite,” Obi-Wan agreed.

“I wasn’t forced,” Anakin realized quietly after a long moment of the two sitting in silence, sipping what was left of their tea, not lukewarm. “I wasn’t even asked,” he added.

“That is partially my doing,” Obi-Wan confessed. He knew he would have to have this conversation at some point, and he had been dreading it ever since it had been done.

Anakin surged in anger and Obi-Wan could feel it. It was fairly certain everyone could feel it. The troopers in particular seemed rather sensitive and knowing of a jedi’s moods and projections. “Why?” Anakin demanded. “Did you not think I’d be good enough for-?”

“Anakin, calm down,” Obi-Wan said, quickly slipping in his own before things could get any worse and his projections stronger. “Take a sip of your tea.”

There was not much left but there was enough. Scowling, he complied.

“Qui-Gon was already going to disown me, and I knew how you feel about him, and you were still a padawan at the time…I didn’t want the same to happen to you,” Obi-Wan started. He wasn’t sure how to explain this but he would do his best with what he had on hand.

“I’m not you.”

Ouch, that stung. It was true, of course, in many more ways than Anakin knew, but that hardly made it hurt any less.

“That came out wrong,” Anakin nearly winced.

“You aren’t wrong. You aren’t me,” Obi-Wan said, which, of course, was always true. Lucky him, the master thought. He didn’t say that Qui-Gon loved Anakin in a way that he was still incapable of caring for Obi-Wan. It wasn’t either of their faults and Obi-Wan knew a lot of the blame could be found on Xanatos and the Chosen One prophecy, but that hardly made it any easier to live and deal with. It could very much be exhausting. Anakin didn’t see it, not yet, and Obi-Wan still isn’t entirely sure if he ever would. “But that does not mean he would be happy with it. You know how he feels about the war, about my part in it. About the jedi’s part in it. I didn’t want you to have to go through that. Something even remotely like that. My apologies, I wanted to keep you out of the war best I could. You are so young.”

“I am an adult! A knight!” Anakin’s voice rose into a near screech. So ready, so adamant to prove that he is mature and capable and an adult. Of course, he was capable, but his maturity wasn’t nearly as rounded as he liked to believe, and he often just did not think. He reminded Obi-Wan of Master Jinn this way. It was his way or no way at all. But unlike Master Jinn, at least in the present some of the times, Anakin was also just a bit more inclined to listen to Obi-Wan. Not all the time, of course, because Anakin always thought he was right, but with the right care and nudging and so much patience, Obi-Wan, on occasion, could get through to him on certain subjects.

“Anakin,” he said his name with as much fondness and softness and patience as he could muster. Which, when it came to this boy, was quite a bit. “War is….it is not like any mission you have been on. It is constant and it does not end. There is a goal, but it does not finish there. There is always something else, something so time sensitive. You don’t get to go home after one mission is done, there is always another, linked swinging from one to another. There is so much more violence and death, and it chips off pieces of yourself every moment. It stays with you, long, long after the conflict may be resolved,” he said, and Anakin seemed rather enraptured in what Obi-Wan was saying. He couldn’t understand all of what Obi-Wan was referencing and he wouldn’t understand how this would stay with those who fought in it. Conflict like this, although not to scale, was something Obi-Wan knew, at times, rather intimately. “It is an experience, a pain, a dirt you can never be clean of,” he insisted, swallowing hard. “War is messy, and nothing is so clean cut as people often make it out to be. You keep giving things up; your ability, your mind, your emotions, your morals, your soul, loyalty, trust��. until there is nothing left of you to give. It becomes written in your bones until it is hard to imagine you were anything else. It takes the best things of life, of ourselves, and only gives back the worst and most destructive for us to figure out how to live with.”