Open

[hello_there]

WHO: Obi Kenobi and anyone who wants to hang out with him
WHAT: Obi-Wan Catch-all
WHEN: Mid-Justinian onwards (before the rifter discussions)
WHERE: Kirkwall, ect
NOTES: n/a

i. The Road Ahead
There was a puppy in Obi-Wan's travel-bag. It was actually fairly impressive, given the size and ambition of the mabari and the relative meagerness of the bag itself. It was more of a pack, really, the kind of thing meant to hold trail-food and the necessities to keep a body alive over the course of a few day's travel. Obi-Wan was not a man given to material wealth, otherwise expensive war-hounds aside.

"Cody," He warned, and glanced again towards the door— hanging ajar, open to the hall, now. Ah, that explained how he'd gotten in, again, "Now, we've spoken about this. You can't go in the pack."

The dog only whined and tilted its head, as if confused. Forty pounds and as spindly as a colt, there was no reasonable explanation of physics that could have united both dog and bag in the asked-for manner. But Cody persevered. Obi-Wan sighed to express his disapproval.

"Out."

Obi-Wan Kenobi, was having some difficulty.



ii: The "Ancient" Texts
Today was sunny in a way that, in Kirkwall, always seemed to be somehow qualified. Today, it could have been anything; perhaps it was only begrudgingly sunny in the bare hour before the afternoon rains, or too humid to be pleasant, or the smell of Darktown that's risen up through the streets in a cloud of foul-tasting steam. But, sitting in the Gallows courtyard, Obi-Wan couldn't smell Darktown, and didn't much care about humidity either way; he was writing. In his hands was a little book, and beside him another, both bound in plain, unremarkable leather. Both were handwritten, the one in his hands somewhat less so, and he seemed, despite his preoccupation, to be waiting for someone.

Or maybe he's just giving the sand-colored mabari puppy room to run; it's certainly doing its bouncing, cheerful best to encounter every single person with business in the Gallows to-day.



iii. Old Habits
Step, turn back, begin again. Second form, faster now; breathe, inhale, and lift—

Comforting basics, he'd run this form a thousand times and more. He'd mastered it. There were no fancy moves, nor clever flourishes in this calm ballet. The Lightsaber hilt was warm and comforting in his hand; familiar design, familiar grip, the hum a constant stream of nostalgia near his ear as Obi-Wan whirled it again into the third stance, then the fourth. It was never about hurting people, this way; they'd trained in a time of peace, with the hope of that peace in their ears. There were no targets, only patterns, circles in circles. Yes, a lightsaber was a deadly weapon, but it didn't have to be.

It didn't have to be— like this. None of this had to be like this.

Obi-Wan finds, abruptly, he's shifted off pattern. He stops, pushes the sweat back into his hair, and grumbles a sigh. Focus, Kenobi. How many times are you going to fail? Are you really this out of practice? Time for a break.

"I used to be able to get through this in one try, believe it or not," He says, by way of greeting, "Good evening."

Comments

[provenforce]

She knows he's lying when he automatically tells her he's fine, but when he amends it, mentions his memories, she understands. She has her own memories that she struggles with, and hers weren't so bad as his. She's just trying to turn a lost soul back to the light, rather than he, who witnessed the most feared man in history's descent.

Smiling a little sheepishly as he brings them back to the subject she'd brought up only a moment before, she absently pushes her hair behind her ears.

"We don't talk about it much. We did when he first arrived, arguing about the light inside him, but it's just gotten easier to talk about everything else. He's turning, I can feel it, and I know he can too. But we've avoided the conversation."

[hello_there]

"You're doing better than I ever have," Obi-Wan admits quietly, and with only a little of the bitterness he feels— it's a good thing, surely, for Rey to find some success, "I hope you do realize, there will come a time when there'll be no avoiding it. Perhaps it would be wiser..."

He stops, caught up in the suddenness of the idea. The way the two of them had grown into their power was strange and new, truly. Both had learned young, as was proper, but to Obi-Wan's way of thought, nearly backwards to the Jedi pattern.

And yet, maybe some old traditions still had a use.

"Have I ever told you about the Trials?"

[provenforce]

Rey knows that eventually she and Ben will need to talk. But before she can admit as much Obi-Wan is on to a new topic and she blinks, her forehead wrinkling in thought for a moment before she tilts her chin in that way that means she's interested.

"I've heard of them, I don't think from you. Some pieces of the Jedi legend survived even after the fall of the Old Republic. Those are tests a padawan must undergo in order to become a Jedi, aren't they?"

[hello_there]

"Yes," He replies, turning a little away from her in that contemplative way of his, arms folded inside his sleeves, "There was a... a trial of skills, and knowledge, but that was all just competency. The kind of thing a Jedi needed to know to do the work, not to be a Jedi. There was always a final Trial, the most difficult one, and if you passed it, you would be confirmed as a Jedi Knight."

He thought back, to his own trial. The ferocity of it. The terrible anger, the rage, the horror. Pale blue eyes gone dull and empty, not shocked, but surprised in a strangely mild way. As if losing his life had come as no more an inconvenience than Obi-Wan's latest foolish question. The way the desire to kill had risen up in him like a black tide and shown him what he was capable of, if he really lost his temper, if he let that darkness rule his choices.

"The candidate must face their own darkness, and either be consumed by it, or defeat it on its own ground. The older versions involve being sealed in a cave, to meditate, but it can take many forms."

[provenforce]

Rey feels as though she's been submerged in cold water as Obi-Wan speaks of the Trial, and it sounds eerily familiar. It's almost like it was yesterday, that night on the island, after screaming at Kylo--Ben about his family, deciding to go and get the truth of her own.

Her greatest fear.

"There was a cave... on the island. It was a place of Darkness, Luke told me to resist it but I knew... I knew I needed to go there. That there was something there that I needed to see." She presses her lips together, feeling the cold of the cave in her bones, like it had never left.

"But there was nothing. It showed me that I'm... no one. That my place in this story that's spanned generations is just... coincidental." She shakes her head, trying to push it away, again. She'd mostly come to terms with that, the loneliness. Ben had helped with so much of that, and others had, too. She knows she's important, even if she doesn't come from greatness.

It's still hard, when you know where everyone else came from.

[hello_there]

Obi-Wan doesn't reach out, doesn't touch her. But he watches, sidelong but intent. He lets her speak, lets the sorrow and remembered fear touch her voice.

"Does it matter? I come from a... farming family, on Stewjon. Most Jedi don't know even that much about their parentage. Anakin was a slave, when I met him on Tatooine," He says this last casually, without care. For once in this life, it's not about Anakin kriffing Skywalker, it's about Rey, "The Force itself arises from the interactions of even the humblest life-forms. Greatness can arise from anywhere. And you..."

He tries to put words to it, to the feeling in him now, of so much more than pride. Obi-Wan doesn't really know that he has the right to any pride on her behalf; what Rey is, she has built herself, and his help has only ever been incidental. It consisted mainly of knowing when and how to step aside, and to urge her onwards, to step up and into her own.

But Obi-Wan can't quite force the word past his teeth, the one he means but can barely admit: daughter.

"There is no such thing as coincidence. Everything that has happened to you, has been for a reason. Something you needed, to grow, and to learn, to become the person you would need to be, in order to do what only you can do. Trust in the Force; it will guide you."

[provenforce]

She looks up at Obi-Wan when he mentions that Anakin was a slave, surprise evident on her features. The Skywalkers were fabled, stories told of Luke's victory against Vader, she was sure that it was a long line of ancient warriors spanning back to the first Jedi. Perhaps that they were even related to the first Jedi themselves. That possibility humbled her sometimes, had made her revere Luke when in reality he'd just been a broken old man.

That was the problem, wasn't it.

She lets out a small breath, giving Obi-Wan a muted smile as the new information sinks in, mixing with things she already knows, but it's nice to hear him say them.

"I've been learning that. But at the time... I just wanted to belong somewhere. To know exactly why I fit into all of this. Even my connection with Ben-- Snoke claimed credit for that, but I don't know that I believe him."

[hello_there]

"What matters more is what you choose to become, not where it started," Obi-Wan told her, and only then, reached out a hand, tentative, uncertain of his use, and placed it on her shoulder, bracingly.

"Rey. My point is this; you've felt the weight of that trial, and you know what it is, what it means. Ben will one day soon need to look into the mirror and accept what looks back at him."

[provenforce]

She knows what he's saying. She'd sensed it, after they'd fought for the lightsaber on the Supremacy. It's something she has no control over, she can only help him in helping himself.

"When we touched through the Force I saw a vision. I know... I know the visions aren't always set in stone futures, but I believe in him. I believe he'll recognize that there's still good in him." She'd done what she had promised him she'd do, back then. She's helped him find the light in him, she just needs him to recognize it.

[hello_there]

"I used to have a great deal of faith, in prophecies, and visions," Obi-Wan says, quietly, looking at the book in her hands as he does so, "But maybe..."

No. No, the consequences were too dire, to trust one's footing to those shifting sands. Not so soon.

"...We can always hope. But hope alone won't see it done. Is there any way I can help you, Rey?"

[provenforce]

She's learning to trust the Force, but it's a process. It's learning to trust in something that while part of her always believed, she's still not entirely sure how to know what it wants from her. Why her. It's something that came up more than once.

"Don't give up on Ben," Rey says after a moment, exhaling as she presses her hand over her heart, feeling the crystal pendant she now wears everywhere under her shirt. "I know he's... not easy to deal with, but you're a better teacher than Luke was. He might not know it, but he needs more than just me believing in him."

[hello_there]

"I'll do my best," the promise came easy, though it was all he could give. Obi-Wan lied quite often, but he broke precious few promises, once made, "Although I'm not sure what kind of compliment that is. I'm beginning to think Luke was never meant to be a teacher at all."

Aside from, of course, that there was no one else to do it, and precious else for a lone Jedi to busy himself with. Celebrity would erode at the patience of a light-side Jedi... but then, perhaps it would erode at other things too. Something to meditate on, for later.

"But what about you?"