"Excuses, you make?" Yoda interrupted. "If wish you not to go, speak the truth you should." Obi-Wan closed his eyes briefly. Of course he did not wish to go. He would rather recite a mission report before the Council stark naked than work side-by-side with Qui-Gon Jinn again. He had eluded contact with the man for seven years, and successfully steered his Padawan clear as well. Force knows he needed to live as an example to Den, which meant avoiding situations that threatened his calm. Obi-Wan could think of no bigger threat to his serenity than Qui-Gon Jinn.
Release. Breathe in peace, breathe in-- "So are you going to tell me what's going on?" Den asked, voice edged with annoyance, or excitement. "I thought I was going to see a bantha fly past the window, Master. You, you, my Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi, were one step away from defying Master Yoda?" Obi-Wan shot him a sharp, correcting look. "I would not defy the leader of the Jedi Order, Padawan. I was simply," words left him and he sighed, aware of how quickly he had allowed the frustration to needle at him, "caught off guard." "Yeah, but caught off guard by what? Master, this has got to be one of the easiest missions we've had in months. I mean, Skywalker got sidelined by a rock? What's the big deal about a kriffing rock?" "Language, Padawan." Obi-Wan chided wearily. Who knew where the boy picked up the more...colorful aspects of his vocabulary. He did not approve of cursing, but of course he did not approve of half of Den's habits. Sometimes when he saw his Padawan he saw only the contrasts between them: Den was a head taller, his skin and hair a bleached-cream white, his eyes colorless but luminous. He said things that Obi-Wan would not even dream of thinking and carried confidence as assuredly as he did his lightsaber. Den believed himself anyone's match, including Anakin Skywalker's.
Glad to know you’ll be reading! ?
The previous handful of hours were spent in meditation, below the Hall of Knighthood. He did not seek out the Force then as much as allow himself to disappear within it, finally, to lose his human frailties in the everything-essence of it. The Force was with him, in his blood. Peace in his blood. It was Qui-Gon's soft voice that called him, "Obi-Wan," in to the meditation chamber now. He walked to the center of the room, his lone footfalls echoing-- although the Sith's defeat served as his Trials, he still could not quite believe what he was here to do. To become. Obi-Wan knelt. He did not know if this was a traditional aspect of the Ceremony, but his knees were useless. The sabers of the Council ignited in unison, pointed towards the floor. A luminous arc around his feet. This was the culmination of Obi-Wan's life thus far, from the day he was handed over to the Temple: a dark room, twelve streaks of light, and his own steady breaths. Master Yoda. "We are all Jedi. The Force speaks through us." He inhaled. His eyes were nearly closed and his other senses were clear as water.