Chapter Text
Obi-Wan knelt in the sunlit meditation garden at the Jedi temple amidst the serene arrangements of flora from around the galaxy, but his mood was anything but serene. He was thinking about his padawan...
It had been almost two months since Obi-Wan had brought Anakin back to the temple to be trained after Qui-Gon’s death, and it had not exactly been the smoothest of transitions - in fact, it was an unmitigated disaster. Because Obi-Wan often had to be away on missions and many were too dangerous for such a young and untrained padawan, he had to place Anakin under the care of the temple creche masters. Joining a creche at age nine, when all the other younglings had been raised together since infancy, would have been a daunting experience for any child - but Anakin was not any child - not by a long shot. The toxic combination of anger and arrogance (fueled by how quickly his Force powers were developing) combined with the isolation and insecurity he felt around his fellow creche mates (who were not always kind when it came to Anakin’s lack of very basic Jedi knowledge) was a powder keg just waiting to be lit. Anakin had basically adopted the mantra of “hurt them before they can hurt you” (not exactly the Jedi code) and was ready for a fight at the slightest provocation. As a result, Anakin spent a good portion of his days isolated in a meditation room where he was encouraged to “meditate on his actions,” but where, Obi-Wan knew, he actually spent his time seething with pent-up rage. (They’d even had to remove the decorative benches after Anakin kicked one into shards.)
Obi-Wan, meanwhile, had never meditated as much in his life, as he tried desperately to figure out what to do with his wayward padawan. There were times he himself felt a fiery rage as he cursed his deceased master for saddling him with this task (Obi-Wan had not had one moment to grieve nor one moment to enjoy his new knighthood before he was suddenly given the heavy responsibility of training the potential savior of the galaxy!) But these outbursts would always be followed by a wave of remorse as Obi-Wan considered how fortunate he had been to have had such a wise and caring master and how Qui-Gon would have wanted him to have compassion for this poor damaged child.
Now, as Obi-Wan knelt, deep in thought, he struggled with this puzzle for the millionth time. Again, he’d been contacted by the creche master (a very kindly Ithorian named Master Jamoor) to come pick up his padawan (after an incident that apparently involved a training saber flung at someone’s head). But what could Obi-Wan do that would make any difference? Their training bond was shaky at best - and no amount of scolding seemed to change Anakin’s behavior. Besides what could Obi-Wan possibly threaten? There was nothing Anakin cared about that could be taken away…. nothing Anakin cared about… wait, that was it! Hurriedly, Obi-Wan stood and made his way down to the section of the temple where the younglings studied and trained.
Obi-Wan gave a quick nod to Master Jamoor and then entered the nearby meditation room, where he found a petulant Anakin slumped in a corner idly kicking at the wall.
“Hello, Master” he said glumly, already hunching his shoulders in expectation of a lecture.
Obi-Wan knelt down near the boy. “Anakin, I want to talk to you about something.” He sighed as Anakin continued to pout and kick the wall. “But I need you to look at me.”
Anakin reluctantly sat up to face his master. Those sad little eyes - Obi-Wan again felt a pang of guilt at feeling resentful earlier. He pressed on, anxious to try his new idea: “Anakin, how would you like… to fly my ship?”
Obi-Wan was almost knocked backward by the wave of joy that emanated from the boy. Anakin’s blue eyes lit up like kyber crystals sparkling in the sunlight. “Really, Master? You’d let me?”
“Only if....” Obi-Wan continued, “you make it through a week of lessons without any major incidents. If you end up back in here, the week starts from scratch.”
Anakin deflated a bit at that - Obi-Wan could see him calculating the odds of actually being successful. “You can do it, Anakin. I know you can if you really try.”
“Master Yoda says--”
“Yes, yes, I know,” Obi-Wan cut him off. “But you know what I mean.”
Anakin was quiet for a moment, then: “How long can I fly it for?”
“A whole afternoon,” replied Obi-Wan. Anakin didn’t say anything more, but for the first time, Obi-Wan could actually see his padawan considering how to change his behavior - it was a start.
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After that, Obi-Wan was called away on a diplomatic mission that lasted several days (thankfully, the negotiations were short) and, upon his return, he was approached by Master Jamoor. Obi-Wan took a measured breath, trying to center himself - what had his padawan done now?
“What in the galaxy did you do to that boy?” queried the astonished Ithorian.
“What do you mean?” Obi-Wan was worried for a moment until Master Jamoor’s mouths cracked into a wide grin.
“We’ve had no problems with Anakin all week.”
“Really?” Obi-Wan had been hopeful, but this was better than he had expected.
“Yes,” continued Master Jamoor. “It’s kind of funny, though…” The Ithorian wrinkled his brow. Or was that another mouth? Obi-Wan wasn’t entirely sure. “Any time anything bothers him, Anakin shuts his eyes tight and covers his ears with his hands. Sometimes he’ll stay like that for an hour or more. It can be a bit distracting, but I don’t want to discourage him, since whatever he’s doing seems to be working.”
Obi-Wan smiled at the thought of little Anakin, physically blocking out his triggers, trying desperately to get to his promised prize. Looked like Obi-Wan was going to have to set an afternoon aside sooner than he thought.
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Two days later, master and padawan headed out to the ship hangar in the back of the Temple, where Obi-Wan’s ship was docked. Anakin raced for the driver’s seat, but Obi-Wan gently pulled him back. “Not so fast, my very young padawan. I won’t have you flying in Coruscant. Even the most experienced drivers risk their lives in the skies here. I’m taking you somewhere safe.”
Obi-Wan knew the perfect spot: a deserted moon just a few parsecs away down the hyperspace lane, where the only inhabitants were some harmless slugs that spent most of the day lying dormant underground. “You shouldn’t be able to get into too much trouble here, Anakin.”
A short while later, Obi-Wan soon came to rethink that statement as he gripped the sides of the passenger seat while little Anakin took the ship into another barrel roll. The boy whooped with joy as the ship spun around and around. Meanwhile, Obi-Wan tried to hold back the breakfast that threatened to come up every time the ship lurched. He wasn’t too keen on flying in general and certainly not like this.
“Anakin, slow down! You’re going to kill us both!”
“Don’t worry, Master. You’re perfectly safe with me.” As Anakin righted the ship again, Obi-Wan glanced over at his padawan and couldn’t help smiling - it was the happiest he’d seen the boy in a long time, perhaps ever.
Later, as they ate lunch in the shadow of a deep crater (well, Anakin ate - Obi-Wan’s stomach still had not recovered), Obi-Wan posed Anakin the question he’d been waiting to ask:
“So how did you do it?”
“Do what, Master?”
“How were you able to behave yourself this week when you couldn’t before?”
“Well, any time anyone bothered me, I just closed my eyes and imagined myself flying your ship. I just forced myself to think of that and nothing else.”
“In other words, you meditated.”
“Huh? No, I wasn’t doing that Jedi mind stuff.”
Obi-Wan had to laugh. “Anakin, that ‘Jedi mind stuff’ is exactly what you were doing. When you meditate, you focus your thoughts in order to calm your mind. Thinking about flying my ship allowed you to block out the things that would otherwise agitate you.” Obi-Wan was both amused and pleased to see the dawning realization on Anakin’s face.
“Ohhhh. I get it now, Master.”
“You’re learning, little one.” Obi-Wan ruffled the boy’s hair affectionately.
“Can we fly again?” pleaded Anakin.
“Alright, just one more time around the moon and then we’ll head back.” Obi-Wan sighed and steeled himself for another stomach-churning ride.
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A couple of weeks passed and at the end of each one, Obi-Wan and Anakin returned to the deserted moon to fly. (Obi-Wan made sure to get an anti-nausea treatment from the healers before they left the temple.) One afternoon, when Obi-Wan praised Anakin for his consistent good behavior, the boy waved his hand nonchalantly. “Once I figured it out, it was easy.”
“Be mindful of your overconfidence, Anakin. Results require work.”
“For some people maybe. Don’t worry. You’ll see, Master. From now on, I’ll be the perfect padawan!” Anakin took the ship into a steep dive and Obi-Wan’s stomach lurched. But this time it wasn’t solely due to the G-forces - he had a bad feeling about this....
As it turned out, Obi-Wan didn’t need to wait long for the other shoe to drop. On the day before what would have been their fourth outing to the deserted moon, Obi-Wan, in the middle of sparring practice with a training droid, felt Anakin’s anguish and rage from all the way across the temple. He froze in his tracks, completely forgetting what he was doing, and the droid took the opportunity to knock the Jedi knight off his feet. Obi-Wan jumped up and fled the room, the droid calling after him: “Shall I record this as a forfeit then?”
Obi-Wan rushed to the other side of the temple, where he found Master Jamoor standing outside the familiar meditation room. The Ithorian was holding a cold compress to the side of his rather large head, where there was a rather large bump forming. Soon the story unfolded: apparently a Rodian creche mate had told Anakin that his mother must have been ugly, a fairly common taunt among Jedi younglings who had no memories of their mothers and didn’t take it too seriously, but which leveled at Anakin was like throwing a lit match into a fuel tank. After Anakin was pulled off the boy (thankfully the Rodian escaped with only a mildly sprained antenna) and the full realization of what Anakin had done (and what the consequences would be) sank in, all hell had broken loose. Anakin essentially threw a Force-fueled temper tantrum, sending objects flying across the room, including a chair that had knocked Master Jamoor in the head. Anakin had been quickly (though not easily) subdued and put into the mediation room.
“I thought when I opted to care for children rather than serve in the field, I’d be out of the line of fire, but that hasn’t proved to be the case.” the beleaguered creche master said, pressing the compress to his aching head.
Obi-Wan sighed. “Very sorry about that, Master, but I realize now that this needed to happen for me to give Anakin part two of the lesson - the more important part.” He took a deep breath, centering himself, then opened the door and headed into the meditation room.
There Obi-Wan was greeted by the saddest sight he’d ever seen. Anakin was curled up into a tight ball in the corner of the room, the only part of him visible the thin blond padawan braid hanging over the dark cloak he’d pulled around himself. Anguish radiated from him. Obi-Wan approached and sat down on the floor nearby.
“Anakin, I can feel how very angry and sad you are.” Anakin didn’t move. “I know how badly you wanted to fly tomorrow.” At the mention of flying, Anakin curled even tighter into himself. His grief at this loss was palpable.
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan continued, “I know you thought you had found the magic button to keep yourself from reacting in anger, but here’s the thing, Padawan: there is no magic button. And there is no being perfect - not for you, not for me, not even for Master Yoda. Being a good Jedi is hard work and it never ends.” Obi-Wan sighed, thinking of his own failures, both as padawan and master. “Some weeks we fly the ship and some weeks we don’t. But still we carry on and do what we must.” Anakin still hadn’t moved, but Obi-Wan could sense he was listening.
“I’m going to meditate with you now, Anakin. You don’t have to do anything. Just listen to my words.” Obi-Wan knelt in the middle of the floor and started reciting a simple meditation. It was one he had learned as a youngling - to use in times of emotional turmoil. It began with the Jedi code (as most meditations for younglings did) and then went into some simple mantras: “I feel my sadness. It reminds me that I am compassionate. I feel my sadness... and I let it go.” Obi-Wan paused for a moment as he felt something shift in the room. Anakin had inched up next to him.
Obi-Wan continued: “I feel my anger. It reminds me that I am righteous. I feel my anger... and I let it go.” Obi-Wan felt a soft weight on his leg as Anakin buried his face in his master’s lap. Soon he felt the slight shaking of the boy’s body and the wetness of tears on his cloak as Anakin began to sob softly. Obi-Wan continued the meditation, concluding with a repetition of the Jedi code: “There is no emotion, there is peace...” With one hand, Obi-Wan softly stroked his padawan’s back, sending waves of love and comfort to him through the bond that now vibrated electric and alive between them.
“There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity.” Anakin’s sobs died down, but he kept his head resting on Obi-Wan’s leg.
“There is no chaos, there is harmony.” Softly Anakin whispered along with his master: “There is no death, there is the Force.” Silently, Obi-Wan sent a wave of love out into the Cosmic Force… a message to Qui Gon… “I will train him, Master. Every day I will do the work. And some weeks we will fly.”