Mud | Obikin

16.

When they finally leave, I look at my empty quarters and understand how I needed to be alone and in silence. A lot going on, and not enough space to think.

I pour myself a glass of Quin's Polanis Red, staring at the broken glass on the floor.
All I did tonight leaves me astounded.

Blaming Anakin for everything is tempting.
We're playing a game he knows better than I, there's little hope.

I'm defeated and disgusted by myself, yet I can't help feeling somewhat euphoric. This incongruence is utterly disturbing. I should be in despair; instead, I'm thrilled as if on the edge of a cliff and about to take the fall; uncaring of all consequences, like a Novajack junkie.

Quinlan is right; we're descending into the abyss. In spite of this, the thought that he has been mine for a fleeting moment is enough to make me follow the path with a foolish grin.
Self-destruction in change of him; in the far reaches of my mind, it seems worth it.

All my life, I regarded those who are dominated by their feelings as weak. I thought this of Padme, for years.
'You know who he is,' I wanted to tell her. 'He sees something he wants, and he takes it. You're older, wiser, you should know better, you can prevent this.'
Now, my conceit has finally been reprimanded.

When I am drunk enough, I retire to my bed, desolated.
In my sleep, Qui-Gon comes to me. As he always does in my dreams, he asks if I trained the boy.

I answer that I've done all I can. "Still, he's walking the line between Darkness and Light."

I see my Master's defining mocking smile. "Aren't we all, Padawan?"

I want to tell him that I'm lost and need his guidance, but my throat clenches.

"I fulfilled my promise," I finally shout. "What now?"

I wake up at dawn with his name on my lips, exasperated more than sad.
I discovered long ago how few words might change lives. Qui-Gon's haunted me for years; an eternal memento of my Master's last thoughts toward someone that wasn't me.

When he died, my resentment for him and Anakin shocked me more than my loss. I'd have never thought I could be capable of such a feeling, and I had no one to help me handle it.
Anakin was a kid, and I inwardly shunned him, wishing he had never crossed our path every time I saw him. Living with someone who disliked him so much must have been hard.

I started feeling guilty and burying my feelings for him since then. Discarded, abandoned, hurt; I gave Anakin all the fault – the way I am tempted to do now.

Eventually, I achieved what I advised Ahsoka to do; beyond pain and wounded pride, I overcame my emotions to see in the boy that which Qui-Gon had. I did all I could to forgive myself and my Master, and tried to move on.

Anakin was... Terrible, really. Needy, whiny, arrogant, and disrespectful. He did nothing to make caring for him easy, but he kept me busy, and my dutiful ways gave me a reason. Once, I surprised myself thinking that the damn promise could have been intended to save me, more than him.

I try to sleep some more, but only end up knotted in sweated sheets.
I can't accept how irresponsible my actions were last night. Ahsoka's dream and her troubled eyes weigh me down, making my stomach tie and forcing me to leave the bed.

"Meditation will not hurt you," I say out loud, reaching my usual spot near the window. When I fold my legs beneath me, a blade of golden morning light cuts my chest in half. I thoughtfully gaze at it, attempting to centre myself. As one could have easily predicted, I struggle to quell the disturbance inside my chest, and the Force evades me.

I know all too well how difficult it is to get out of this vicious cycle once you're in; I compose myself to avoid frustration, inhale slowly, and methodically wash away all that travels within my mind.

I give up when I find myself daydreaming, staring at the wall I made Anakin whine against. I curse, untangle my limbs and stand up, fearing there is nothing I can do to escape my unbalanced mood.

Despite my wandering mind, I diligently clean last night's mess, cringing a little in the process. Afterwards, I write the short report for the Council, and check the holonews, blaming bad dreams and poor choices for my melancholy and sleep loss.

Not for the first time, I wonder what Qui-Gon would think of me; whether he would believe I've failed him. This past week definitely convinced me that I am not the Jedi he expected me to be.

These days resemble the ones preceding his death; times when every decision seems to lead in a defined direction. The thought of all the things that could have gone differently, the small variables that might have changed everything, has always been excruciating.

Late in the morning, I receive a call from Quin. As the commlink buzzes, I become aware that I don't want to hear anything he has to say. I just stare at it until it falls silent again, feeling equally relieved and troubled.

When I can't stay in my quarters any longer, I resolve to personally take my report to Master Windu. A decision that will carry more consequences than one might anticipate.

I reach the halls that lead to the Council chamber, greeted by the sight of Padme nodding her head with Mace just outside it. They wear smiles that do not reach their eyes.
I don't know what they were talking about, but I'm sure each one believes themselves to be the victor.

I bow my head respectfully and try to painlessly walk by. However, Windu stops me to enquire about the Embassy attack, making me silently swear.

He greets my answer with sounds of bland interest. Padme throws me a sympathetic smile.

"Master Vos spoke with me regarding further developments this morning," he says. "The Council suspects this situation runs deeper than we first predicted. He has learned Aurra Sing and some of her associates have been traversing between Coruscant and Palawa over the last months. We have no evidence to suggest Sing is there now. However, the Council wishes to investigate the reasoning behind these activities on an abandoned planet such as this. I'd have asked you to take care of it, though Master Yoda informs me you would rather postpone your next mission."

"I wouldn't presume such luxuries during times of war," I thoughtlessly reply.

"In this case, Skywalker and yourself would be dispatched to further examine our leads."

My gaze imperceptibly slips onto Padme, before I dare request they send me alone.
She returns my glance with a blank expression.

"I would prefer you have someone to cover your back. Is this a problem?" He queries.

I stay quiet for a little too long, with Padme's eyes steady on me.

With his usual lack of emotion, Windu states that he will take it to Yoda, before turning back to her.

"Senator, thank you for your time. Please, allow me to find a Knight to escort you back to the Temple entrance." He steps toward the Council Chambers door, allowing it to slide open with a gentle hiss.

"Couldn't Master Kenobi?" Asks Padme. "I could use ten minutes with an old friend."

"As you wish," Answers Windu on my behalf.

I am unfortunately obligated to confirm it would be my pleasure.

Editing: CoreWorlds