saddeserthermit (
saddeserthermit) wrote2016-07-20 09:25 am
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Office Hours, Wednesday
Obi-Wan had not been in his office for quite a while, but somehow last week's events made it seem... pertinent.
So he settled behind his desk early in the morning with a nice cup of tea, attempting to meditate on the... experience of an island full of ponies. And madness. And whatnot.
Somehow, this was not a fantastic way to find harmony with one's self, which was why he gave up on it sooner rather than later.
[[ open! ]]
So he settled behind his desk early in the morning with a nice cup of tea, attempting to meditate on the... experience of an island full of ponies. And madness. And whatnot.
Somehow, this was not a fantastic way to find harmony with one's self, which was why he gave up on it sooner rather than later.
[[ open! ]]
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If it was going to be there, nagging at him like an anxious puppy, then he might as well put it to some use.
"Master Kenobi?" He gave a little rap on the doorframe with his knuckles. "Have you got a moment for a chat?"
No, Kanan. He clearly came to town to hold office hours in order to be more difficult to find than he was out in the shack in the woods.
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"Kanan," he said, faintly proud of himself for going for that name instead of Dume immediately. "Please. Come in. Sit down."
He gestured at a seat by his desk.
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"Thank you. I... hope you've been well? I only really understood what had gone on last week after I stopped being a tooka."
The things this place made him say.
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Because that had been some nonsense.
"But peace has been restored, and I don't believe anything particularly traumatizing has occurred." Beat. "You were a tooka?"
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He'd been more worried about chasing things. And whatever strange things were going on with physics at the time. He'd actually been a pretty stressed cat.
"Hell, I've never even been to Lothal. But, like you said... peace restored, nothing too traumatizing. Which I suppose is a bonus, considering some people are still reeling over the memory loss that happened just before it."
Himself included. Being a cat didn't give much opportunity to process.
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This... had not thrown him off so much. He'd woken up in the woods and decided himself a peaceful hermit, which was all right.
"Was this a problem for you?"
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"It wasn't so bad, not remembering. There are a lot of things I wouldn't mind forgetting, if I didn't think it could get me killed," he admitted. "It meant I didn't even think to have my usual barriers up, though."
The ones that kept that constant press of the Force at bay. He still didn't quite have it edged out again. It got harder, every time he let it back in.
"And remembering everything again on the Monday..." He frowned. "I suppose I didn't care for that part."
He supposed he didn't care for it enough that he'd tried to get very drunk.
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Not for him. He spent way too much time agonizing over his memories instead. "What was it like, experiencing the Force again with so little... guile?"
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"I don't remember a time in my life that I didn't know what the Force was," he said, finally. "I couldn't have told you what it was that weekend, just that it was there for me."
He frowned a little.
"Like an old friend. It was a comfort."
The exact opposite of what he'd convinced himself it actually was, over the years.
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He wondered just how far Dume had have to have fallen to forget it - even Obi-Wan could not bring it in himself to push the Force aside like this. "A comfort. And a guide. And so many other things."
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"A death sentence," he said, softly. "I was young when the Clones turned on us, and then I was alone. Being rid of it was the only way I could be sure it wouldn't have me, or anybody I got close to, hunted down. The last time I used it, meant to use it, before coming here, I was throwing myself through an airlock into space, trying to get away from them one last time."
He hesitated before adding, "Even then, I trusted it to guide me."
And then he'd shut it out.
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He folded his hands into the sleeves of his robe. "To cut it out of your life because of one of these functions is extreme," he said. "One does not cut one's leg off merely because it is an easy target for a vibroblade."
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There was a 'but,' there. There always was. He didn't voice it, that fear that cutting it away had saved him then, but was costing him something now. Instead, he went at it a bit sideways.
"I was only a Padawan, Master Kenobi. Whatever the Force is to you... it wasn't that, to me. It could have been. I was even on my way to really understanding the relationship I was meant to have with it, myself. But I was no Knight."
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It was perilously hard suddenly to maintain his grasp on Dume's cover, and he once again found himself swallowing back the name. "You were no Knight, but you made the choice to open yourself to it," he said. "It is not a decision one goes back on easily. Or fully. Regardless of one's understanding."
As Dume had already found.
"It posed a danger to you once. It is attempting to offer you comfort, now. Would you turn that away?"
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"I... don't know," he said, frowning. "For once in my life, I don't think it's the biggest problem I have, here. But if I accept it now, what do I do if I ever get to go home?"
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He nudged his cup of tea across the desk. "You are not a youngling any longer."
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"No," he agreed. "I'm not. I had to grow up too quickly for that."
And then, before he could talk himself out of it, before he could let the unease in his guts worry him to the point where he thanked Obi-Wan for his time and fled to the relative safety of his apartment, he pulled in a breath and asked, "Would you teach me?"
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"Of course," he said. "Though you will have to tell me how far your training with Master Billaba had already come by the time that... certain events occurred."
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And then he asked about his training, and Kanan exhaled in a soft huff of something that was almost a laugh. A very wry, tired sort of laugh.
"Not far," he admitted, his voice dropping to a near whisper as he spoke. "She took me as her Padawan, I got my crystal and built my lightsaber, and then we went to war. We had good talks, and she kept my training up enough to get us through, but it was always minimal. There wasn't much time to train properly on Kardoa," because he'd been shot and spent a good chunk of the downtime afterwards in a bacta tank, "or Mygeeto, or Kaller. The first night we set aside for any real amount of actual training after we became involved in the war, that was the night they turned on us."
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The full extent of just how unprepared Dume had been, Obi-Wan... had not been aware of. "Have you, by any chance, spoken to Ahsoka?" he asked quietly.
Because he did not particularly want to give away who or what Ahsoka was if Kanan didn't know, but...
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He shrugged his shoulders.
"I should. I know. But opening up isn't something I'm very good at, and coming up with a reason to take her aside after class without being obvious about why hasn't happened yet."
Then again, she'd pretty blatantly used the Force while fighting that rancor sim he'd cooked up. He was still trying to figure out if she wasn't actually hiding it, or if she was banking on people thinking that all Togruta could move like that.
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He sighed, nudging the thick upper robe off his shoulders. "She grew up as you did," he said. "The Clone Wars began when she was made Anakin's Padawan. And much like you, she learned to harness the Force in combat above all other applications."
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"I suppose I could take her aside after class one of these days. It isn't as though this semester I'm teaching anything so blatant as a course on keeping out of notice."
Kind of the opposite, actually.
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He may not have been talking about the 'speaking to Ahsoka' part, no.
"I feared this once," he added. "A generation of Jedi raised on war... history has taught us that is rarely a good thing."
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Total mystery as to why. Really.
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