Forget Me Not

31

"Obi-Wan," I murmured, shaking his shoulder gently, "I need you to wake up."

He stirred, rolling onto his side and dragging a dusting of grit and pebbles across with him. His frown grew as his cheek felt the unforgiving cold of bare stone beneath him, but the effects of my evidently over-enthusiastic sleep suggestion pinned him down. Sheltered from the first twinkle of golden sunlight, the shadows cast by the mass of a large, boxy ship only served to further chill my slumbering protégé, adding to his apparent displeasure at my inability to warm him properly. When it had become my duty to do so was blurry, and any answers to such a question were tastefully dodged.

"Wake up!" I insisted, shaking him harder.

"Don't hurt him!" a young voice snapped, making me jump. I looked up to see the black silhouette of the teenage Togruta as she blocked the morning sun, complete with pointy montrals and slender fingers resting on slouched hips. I blinked through the brightness as she stepped closer, her frown and disapproving scowl coming into view, followed immediately by worry filling her blue eyes as she glanced at her sleeping master.

"I wasn't hurting him," I explained quietly, watching as the worry in her expression wrestled with the relief at seeing him at all. "He's asleep, Ahsoka."

"Don't call me that," she snapped, but there was no real malice behind her voice. "And don't call me 'Princess Tano,' either. You may refer to me as 'Commander' or 'Padawan' Tano." When she caught me chewing on a smile, she glowered at me fiercely. "Just because I agreed to meet you at this ridiculous time or in this random location doesn't mean you have any authority to speak to me as you want." But then her face softened, and she dropped down next to me, sitting cross-legged as her hands ghosted over Obi-Wan's wrist, pressing against his steady pulse. "How are you, San? It's been a while."

"I've been better," I said noncommittally, sliding my fingers around his other wrist, "but I'm alive, thanks to some friends."

"You have friends?" Ahsoka asked, wide-eyed.

I laughed, partly amused, partly shaken. Did I have friends? Maul wasn't a friend; he was more like a colleague, or maybe just an acquaintance. But Obi-Wan ... what was he?

But then Obi-Wan finally stirred, saving me from the discomfort of answering. His eyes flickered open, a subconscious smile relaxing onto his face as he spotted me before he took stock of his situation. His smile faded into a faint frown as he observed our awkward position: tucked beneath the wide wing of an accommodating Republican freight carrier that was perched on a circular landing pad, some hundred feet away from the imposing front doors of the Jedi Temple. His frown disappeared as his eyebrows raised at our precarious post over the black abyss which the pad overhung. Aside from the steady stream of air traffic, it was a straight, fatal drop to the lower levels of Coruscant. He pressed himself harder against me, then tried to edge both of us further towards the ship that sheltered us from the prying eyes of the Temple guards and passing clone troopers. His questioning gaze was enough to elicit a reassuring smile and a small squeeze from me.

"I brought you here to see Ahsoka. Say hi," I encouraged him.

He looked up almost shyly, eyes whisking across the teen in curiosity. "Hi, Ahsoka."

"Hi, Master," she breathed, containing her excitement with maturity that well surpassed her sixteen years. "I'm really happy to see you."

"It's nice to see you, too," he responded warmly, though his gaze strayed to me, a hundred questions in his eyes.

"Ahsoka hasn't seen you since you were in prison," I explained, unable to meet either sets of inquisitive eyes. "I wanted to show her that you were alright."