I must thank Sara Kenobi for her challenge thread that gave me a spark of inspiration. A short missing scene. Time: Post TPM Character: Obi-Wan Kenobi Summary: Obi-Wan's thoughts on his first day back after the events on Naboo. As I walk down the hall, I feel the eyes of everyone I pass bore into me and so I look down. I cloak myself in the Force, both to guide me through the long, hallowed corridors and to blind myself from those that wish to catch my attention. I?ve no desire to converse, not even a word if I can have my way. I strive to reach the apartment without being stopped. There are numerous things to be taken care of, packing and moving. Thankfully, Anakin is with Adi Gallia, who has volunteered to take him to Requisitions and then a tour of the Temple. The boy has need of more than one set of clothes and the tour will provide me with the private time I desperately require. The tale has beaten me back to the Jedi Temple, and like the gossamer wings of a glitterfly in a raging storm, the essential facts are tattered and strewn. One would think the story that?s now heard would give me comfort, build me up, but that is not the case. Decades of Jedi training have taught me to look beyond for the truth, to search for it. Even now it pains me that this ever spreading, ever modifying account is quickly taking on a life of it?s own. Historic and legendary I?ve heard it called and this only aggravates my misery. Sith Killer, I?ve hear them call me and I wince each time it?s spoken. Who would ever want to be titled a killer? of any kind? To a Jedi this is no compliment? it borders blasphemy. For all of this my greatest fear is not what is being said, not the idle gossip of what I did, nor how I did it. My greatest fear is what I keep deep inside me, the truth I will hold in my heart for an eternity, one that no one has as of yet uncovered. My first day back in the Jedi Temple, coming quickly on the heels of my first official day as Knight and Master and all I can do is wish it were different. There is no happiness in me, only a numbness as ?the tale? is both whispered and shouted. It is not what is passed on, one mouth to another, one ear to another. It is what is not included in the fable, that truth that has been separated from fact, an invisible hole which will forever haunt me. That I was too slow to save him.