Chapter Text
Obi-wan hadn't been sleeping, he tossed and turned trying to get comfortable but sleep never came. Sighing he hoisted himself up and onto his elbows, flipping the cushion, hitting it and flopping back down; his eyes burning in their dryness and his frustration. He closed his eyes and turned on his back trying, and failing, once again to fall asleep.
Thoughts and anxiety swirled in his mind, a sickening roller-coaster of dread as the final test of his trials loomed above him, the previous written general exams and spoken languages exams (he’d chosen Mando’a as his previous knowledge from his time with Satine was sufficient enough to make the test easier, though no less stressful) had passed and he was glad to bin all his revision materials. Binning was generous, he had thrown them into a shredder, a cathartic sense of relief at seeing them destroyed had lessened the stress.
Obi-wan rose with a frustrated grunt and wrapped his knight's cloak tightly around him to stave of the temperature difference. Shuffling his way into the kitchen he flicked the kettle on and brought a mug down from the wooden cabinet.
“You won’t sleep if you drink that this late.” Qui-gon said, an air of condescension seeping into the force around him. Obi-wan lowered his head tiredly and placed a tea bag into the mug.
“I know master, I couldn't sleep so I thought id practice some katas.” He responded as the kettle flicked itself off and steam billowed from the spout. Qui-gon had moved towards Obi-wan and brought his own mug to the sink to rinse out and place a new tea bag in. Taking the offered kettle from Obi-wan he poured the steaming water into the mug, watching serenely as the water darkened.
“I'm assuming you are continuing to hone your Suroso?” Qui gon asked, Obi wan brought the milk from the fridge over and placed it on the counter before shovelling sugar into his mug and stirring. Qui gon poured the milk straight into the flavoured water till the mug resembled Irish tan. Obi-wan finished his tea, poring a hint of milk in and walking towards the wooden table in the centre of the kitchen/dinning room.
“Yes Master, Ataru isn't for me.” Obi-wan sat tiredly and took a long sip from his mug as Qui-gon joined him.
“I understand, I didn't get along with my Master's form either. It was only when Master Yoda showed me Ataru that I truly began to love doing katas. Though you know Suroso cant be your only form, you must learn others to be formidable.” Qui-gon lectured, staring at Obi-wan.
“Yes Master.” He responded. Qui-gon stood and made his way towards his own room, he stopped abruptly and turned around to face Obi-wan.
“Have you been told what will happen for your final test yet?” He asked, one hand holding his tea and the other resting on his hip.
“No Master, all I know is that its after tomorrow.” Obi-wan responded lifting his tea and taking another long sip to steady his nerves.
“Ah, very well. It will be explained tomorrow. I expect that Master Windu and Yoda will be present, you know how your great grandmaster is.” Qui-gon spoke, his voice edging to put upon at the thought of Yoda trying to coddle his knight and padawan.
“It'll be in the meditation room next to the room of thousand fountains.” And with that Qui-gon opened the door and went back into his room. A soft thunk fell on deaf ears as Obi-wans head collided with the surface of the table, the isolation of the dead of the night and the lack of sleep effecting his willingness.
He finished of his tea and re-entered his room, laying back onto his bed having given up on the idea practicing and instead trying to fall asleep again instead. As his eyes closed and sleep overtook him, whispers of the force warned him. Though the light of day wouldn't allow him to remember what their warning was.
-
An alarm shrieked Obi-wan into a wakefulness and was turned of with a blind slap of a tired hand. As Obi-wan got ready, he could hear his brother and master talking in the kitchen and moved to join them.
“Please Anakin, stop asking. I'm not going to let you race a speeder again until you've finished your padawanship, your so close and it won't matter soon. You've survived this long and you can survive a little longer.” Qui-gon scolded, his patience wearing thin as Anakin argued back; trying to reemphasis the argument that he’d done it before, and practicing would only improve his skill.
“No Anakin. I wont talk about it again, now go to your classroom before your late.” Qui-gon snapped back, his impatience souring the force as his watched his padawan slam the door on his way out.
Obi-wan moved quietly around the bubble of tension trying not to draw attention on himself as he fixed himself early meal.
“Why cant he be more patient, like you.” Qui-gon huffed and sat back down, burying his hands in his long hair in an attempt to smoothen it. Obi-wan didn't respond, thinking about a time when he was rebellious, impatient and left on Mera/Daan, instead taking his sandwich and sitting opposite Qui-gon and starting to eat.
“We have to leave soon; your final trial should take up most of the day and you'll want to rest after so its better if we do it soon.” Obi-wan nodded in response and finished his meal before setting it into the sink.
“Will I need anything Master?” Obi-wan asked.
“No, just your lightsabre and a water bottle.” Qui-gon responded, leaving the room and Obi-wan to himself. Obi-wan let out a shuddering breath of anxiety and went to get the last of his things.
-
As Qui-gon and Obi-wan moved through the large ornate corridor they stopped short just outside a looming oak door. The sound of the nearby fountains and rushing water calmed Obi-wans' nerves, breathing deeply and straightening his back, squaring his shoulders. The doors opened ominously, the scratching of wood on stone orchestrating their entrance into the room. 3 meditation cushions were set out in a circle, their plush forms brightening the room in an array of colour while a singular white cushion was set in the middle.
“Arrived, you have.” Yoda spoke softly towards the two, a small smile brightening his face as Qui-gon went to sit himself onto the remaining cushion.
“Knight Kenobi.” Mace Windu acknowledged, gesturing for him to sit in the centre. “As we mentioned before, all you have to do is meditate. We've evaluated your force presence and decided that this will be your trial.” Qui-gon explained as Obi-wan sat and made himself comfortable, leaving his water to his side.
The room dimmed and Obi-wan closed his eyes, relaxing and connecting with the force. Yoda and Windu held eye contact, their brows pinched as the room darkened ad lightened erratically. The masters all closed their eyes and followed Obi-wan, careful to keep distance as to not disturb.
Obi-wan opened his eyes and looked around. An ocean, as far as the eye could see had drenched him up to his knees and reflected the galaxy in a dramatic painting of extra-terrestrial excellence. Deep blues, golds and blackness of deep space blanketed the man and the three observers. Obi-wan rose and walked through the clear water, unsure what he was walking on. The water both transparent and opaque rippled as he moved through it with ease without the usual weight of water at this depth. Obi-wan walked further, drawn towards where two nebulas where fighting for dominance of the horizon.
He stopped, in between the two, and sank to his knees. The water climbed and drenched his tabards up to his waist and he stretched his hands into the depths. Suddenly, the nebulas exploded with a ear piercing shriek and shattered, falling into the water. The four jedi flinching and covered their faces in an attempt to stop any debris from hitting them. Obi-wan opened his eyes and lowered his hands, surprised to see that the debris had melted. Brilliant white-gold had coloured the ocean and Obi-wan cupped his hands to lift the water.
“Weird.” Obi-wan muttered as the water poured it back out, it dribbled thickly. The thickness had increased and now resembled cream. As Obi-wan continued to move the water around, curious as to the change, deep black tendrils moved towards him. Trying to get a hold and stick to him, Obi-wan panicked and stood, trying to brush it off.
Qui-gon made a move towards his knight but a hand on his chest stopped him. “Don't, we can't interfere.” Windu spoke, the tension of his body causing his hand to twitch as he returned it to himself.
The tendrils moved closer, increasing in amount and determination. However, just as they would reach Obi-wan and try to grab him they would slip past. As though Obi-wan had a thin film over him that stopped them from latching on.
Obi-wan grew curious and tried to grab one, his hand just barely reaching it before he fell into the water which had deepened suddenly, Obi-wan struggled to swim towards the surface, the milky hue of the water somehow brightening the ocean. He struggled but grew fatigued quickly and choked on nothing going limp as the world went black.
Bright lights seared through Obi-wans eyelids, the rich scent of anti-bacterial stung at his nose as he regained consciousness. He groaned, tilting his head to the side and trying to move a hand to his face to rub at irritated eyes. Something stopped him.
“Obi-wan! Your awake oh thank the force.” Qui-gon shot up from where his head had been resting next to their interlocked hands.
“What happened?” Obi-wan asked hoarsely, his throat scratching painfully.
“Ah. your trial took an... interesting turn.” He responded, wincing as he remembered how Obi-wan had reacted once he woke up.
“What do you mean Master?” Obi-wan asked, panic colouring his voice. Just as Qui-gon was about to respond Apprentice Vokara Che walked in, she startled as she noticed Obi-wan up and rushed over.
“I'm so sorry Master Jinn but you can't be in here.” She said, her desperation causing Obi-wan to ask why. Looking over at his master he pleaded with his eyes that the other not leave him, to explain what had happened to him.
“I'm sorry Obi-wan, but I cant help you. Not anymore.” Qui-gon left the room, his shoulders slumped and the force quiet. Obi-wan looked over towards the other knight as she moved to adjust his IV.
“Please, what happened?” He asked.
“...I'm not supposed to talk to you.” She responded, tension running through her as she jerked away minutely.
“Please?” Obi-wan begged, tears welling in his eyes.
“Your trial, it had gone wrong. Somehow. All I know is that you had attacked someone.” She said, moving further away from obi-wan and placed her hands within her cloak to hide their shaking.
“No! I would never, who was it?” He demanded, rising from where he was propped up from thick cushions and hands grabbing the railing of the medical bed.
“Master Windu.” The twi’lek practically ran out the room, Obi-wan pushing himself to stand and made to follow her. He ripped out his IV, blood spurting aggressively from the wound as he ran through the small room and into the corridor.
As Obi-wan shoved open the door he was met by a deep and sudden drop, just barely catching himself on the handle of the door. His breath drew rigidly as confusion and distress rippled through him.
The force was quiet, providing no direction or comfort.
He looked down, and down, and down. A single tear fell, seemingly for forever, and Obi-wan stepped back, drawing a calming breath and sitting on the floor. Moving his legs into a meditation stance and closing his eyes, drawing deep breaths and searching for the force. When he had no luck in doing so he turned his mind towards calming himself the old-fashioned way.
He inhaled. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. He exhaled. 3 ,2 1, he drew another breathe. Repeating the action until his mind cleared Obi-wan opened his eyes having relaxed marginally. His mind sharpened and he stood, taking in his surroundings and finally noticing just how cold the room was in the flimsy medical gown.
In the corner, just behind the door, lay his tabards. Picking up the dry clothes and dressing himself Obi-wan flung his cloak around him, drawing it tightly against his form as he continued to survey his surroundings.
Finding nothing of use in the room he turned his attention back towards the door and walked over, trepidation slowing his movement. He opened the door and braced himself for the depths.
There was a corridor.
Surprised and suspicious Obi-wan stepped over the threshold just in time to see Master Yoda rush past. Obi-wan ran after the Jedi master, trying to catch up and calling his name. Yoda moved quicker, seemingly not hearing Obi-wans shouted pleas for him to stop, to explain.
Obi-wan moved quicker down the halls to catch up.
Yoda got further away.
Obi-wan started to jog.
The halls of healing kept going, infinite in their length.
Yoda got further away still.
Obi-wan started to run.
Yoda got further down the halls.
Obi-wan broke out in a sprint, still trying to shout at the top of his lungs for his grandmaster to stop and talk to him. To help him.
Yoda turned a corner and just as Obi-wan skidded around the corner too, the halls of healing stopped.
Obi-wan fell, and fell, and fell. Obi-wan barely had enough time to draw one last panicked breath before he crashed into the water, a worrying snap echoing as he used a forearm to break his fall and protect his head, his other arm wrapped around his organs.
The world went black.