52 Days of Disaster - Day 23

Nov 24, 2009 23:11

Star Wars (Kinda sorta DUH, for tonight, I think. :P)


Some might have said it was misguided for Kenobi to train the boy. He was young, he was reckless, he was headstrong, he didn't take things seriously enough...

And that was just what they said about Obi-Wan! The boy (vergence, as Master Windu had termed him, and at the time Obi-Wan had been hard-pressed to simply bite his tongue and not correct the elder Jedi on his incorrect use of the term - perhaps there was something to what they said, after all? If he was going to train the child, then the thought of correcting him shouldn't have even occurred in a good Jedi Knight with a Padawan of his own. Right?), now the boy, he was yet another kettle of fish.

It had been eight-hundred years since the order had officially taken on any new Jedi older than the age of five - or whatever that particular species' age-equivalency might be. Three-hundred since any child younger than three, and those so old were taken on a case-by-case basis, with probation over their every move.

Because their minds were so... easily malleable? Simple to reform in the image of the Order? Better to have them learn to detach?

Not as much set in personality?

Less formed?

Thinking about why they were so resistant to Anakin's training - actually thinking, the way that Qui-Gon had once tried to ask him to consider things - rather than merely accepting, the way that Yoda and Nu and Windu and Mundi and so many more of the council expected (not demanded, because that implied far more violence than was meant, no the word was 'expected') that he do? It was actually turning Obi-Wan's stomach.

He exited the 'fresher after a good fifteen minutes. Anakin was off, playing - playing! Something Obi-Wan hadn't ever truly experienced, for in the Temple even light play was restricted to the very young, except that the play might involve honing one's Force skills. Meditation, or perhaps gardening, yes. But simply playing? Everything was always a competition to become a Master's or a Knight's Padawan, and there was not much more to consider once one was past the age of eight - with some of the local children, who had recently been freed from the concentration camps that the Nemodians had ordered first constructed (a blight upon the sight of the world) and then people forced into them (a blight upon the sight of justice). With his new Master's permission, of course.
He'd already been given the haircut. Queen Amidala (sweet Padme, and no, they hadn't fallen for the lie, actually) had mentioned something about 'getting a haircut a week before any ceremony to let it settle', and then Obi-Wan had stared at her for a moment, before she smiled and pointed out that sometimes even global politics came down to who looked better on camera.

And then Obi-Wan had started being worried about whatever ceremony might be meant, but he and Anakin had permission from the Council to stay on Naboo for well over a month, and the Nubian people themselves were more than happy to welcome them with open arms. Especially the pilots.

And that was another thing.

Anakin had killed more people that day than Obi-Wan had ever so much as injured, let alone killed. And he was a great deal younger than Obi-Wan had been when he'd first wielded a real lightsaber in anything approximating battle. Four years could make a great deal of difference - and even then, it still wasn't old enough, Obi-Wan recalled some of the psychologists' arguments in favour of raising the Apprenticeship age. But their minds were young - less formed, more malleable, all the better to manipulate, and Obi-Wan could feel the bare remains of the food he'd managed to keep down before considering making another break for freedom. And so thirteen was the oldest a Padawan could be chosen.

Too. Young.

One of those psychologists would have said something about 'trauma', another about 'deaths felt through the Force, discuss effects on growing minds'. Still a third - a psychiatrist, actually, the one they'd already met with as part of the Nubian's debriefing process, who had given Anakin something to fix, and then dragged Obi-Wan off for a quick conversation about normal reactions in humans to great upheaval, and had told him that one of the best things he could possibly do would be give the boy a hug every now and then. He was obviously not a Jedi-raised, he'd said, and fixed Obi-Wan with a look so close to Qui-Gon's 'I am disappointed' expression, that it had made Obi-Wan feel a cross between wanting to squirm and wanting to sob, as though he were the nine year old and not his new Padawan.

That psychologist had said 'comfort'. He'd said 'focus on the positives, and don't let him dwell on the changes too much. Let alone the deaths'. He'd noted that Anakin was 'your responsibility now, Jedi Kenobi'. And finally he'd told them to go with the Force, and so, Master and Apprentice, they had.

He is too old, whispered a part of Obi-Wan. Nobody knows how he might be trained, the differences needed in the ages, one cannot treat him as a toddler! the voice of Doubt continued, until finally Obi-Wan dropped to his knees.

This required meditation, he decided firmly, choosing to focus on the words of the code.

There is no Ignorance, there is Knowledge, he reminded himself quietly. And carefully didn't think about Qui-Gon, because with things as overwhelming as they were right then to him, he honestly did not wish to attempt self-convincing of the last line (there is no Death, there is the Force).

star wars, fic, 52 days of disaster

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