Chapter Text
Holding onto a grudge is like drinking poison and hoping the other person dies or at least that’s what Obi-Wan had once been told long ago by one of the creche attendants as when she had comforted him about Bruck.
It had been wonderful, to have someone listen to him, listen to his problems, try to comfort him and even scold Bruck even if that hadn’t worked out to anyone’s favor.
Not that it mattered anymore Obi-Wan thought sadly as he sat unseen on the arena benches, watching his former creche mates with the saber instructor. Some of them were padawans and some of them were still Initiates, not yet turned thirteen and therefor still in the temple for that last chance at a Master.
He smiled as he finally saw Bant, the mon calamari wobbling slightly in her position before reinforcing her position.
“Well done Bant.” He called out only to deflate when no one heard him. Pulling his robe around himself tightly, Obi-Wan started to sob quietly.
What did it matter if he let his emotions out?
Obi-Wan Kenobi had died on Bandomeer, died alone in a cave after being sent away by the Jedi Order.
But instead of joining the Force, he’d become this… ghost like entity.
A ghost who had just gone home to where he felt familiar and safe at least.
Shuddering a bit as his tears finally stilled, Obi-Wan sat up straight with no idea how long he’d been crying when he finally managed to stop, rubbing at his sore eyes with his hands to dry them up before looking back to the arena floor with a small sniffle.
The class was done at least, so half an hour had gone by at least Obi-Wan figured as he took in the knights and master’s sparring before he got to his feet slowly and stumbled down the benches. Hesitating in where to go, Obi-Wan finally decided to go to the gardens.
At least there he wouldn’t feel… isolated.
Of course walking through the hallways presented their own unique challenges for Obi-Wan as it meant passing through the Jedi of the temple and that just…
It felt so wrong to walk through someone.
Taking a deep breath, Obi-Wan steeled himself and carefully started to walk through the hall, staying as close to the wall as he could and avoid anyone talking through him or visa verse.
()()()
“Repeat yourself you will.” Yoda rasped out, hands tight on his gimer stick as he stared at the holo of the agricore master. Obi-Wan quietly leaned against the grandmaster of the Order’s chair, watching with him and the council masters.
The lady shifted, taking a deep breath. “We found the body of Obi-Wan Kenobi, he hadn’t run of as we earlier suspected but was… captured and expired in captivity while in the grasp of Xanatos Du Crion.” She murmured.
“How master Fero?” Master Koon murmured.
“He perished in a mining tunnel belonging to Offcore, a mix of dehydration and physical exhaustion we believe though he was covered in what we closely identified as whip marks. Young Kenobi was equipped with a blast collar around his neck that was still active when we found him but one of our engineers managed to remove it but it explains why he didn’t just escape.” Fero bit her lips. “Would… the temple wish for him to be returned? He wasn’t an agricore member yet though we would do the burial ri-”
“Send him home you will.” Yoda said sharply, something choked in his voice but firm in his voice.
Master Fero bowed at that. “Of course master Yoda, I will send him with the next shuttle leaving for Coruscant.”
There was some more conversations after that but Obi-Wan didn’t really pay attention to it. Instead he focused on the old man he had once called his teacher, resting his hand over the green one still grasping his cane as tightly as Yoda could, ears hanging low as old eyes stared at the wood without really seeing it.
“…Its okay master Yoda. You couldn’t have known, I don’t blame you.” Obi-Wan murmured, settling his head against the mans shoulder too. “Its okay.” He whispered, his voice unheard by everyone.
What could one dead little boy do.