saddeserthermit | Office Hours, Wednesday

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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.

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Kanan - Caleb, really - gave a little hum of acknowledgment, slipping readily into the student role at Obi-Wan's gesture. There was more life out there beyond Bob's strange half-existence, at least a dozen young minds engaged in learning in some class or another. He lingered there next, observing with a soft, bittersweet sense of nostalgia. This was something that felt... not wrong, no, but different without Master Billaba's presence there doing the guiding.

"Those are the students?"

There was so much to them. He'd forgotten how distinct, how vibrant people could be this way, all in some superficial sense the same but each vastly different from the next. He found himself a little bit in awe of it. It had been a while since he'd looked at anyone this way, after all.

"Those are the students," Obi-Wan confirmed. "They're lively, aren't they? It's rather easy to get carried away."

There was a reason he lived in the middle of the woods. Multiple reasons. Not wanting to slip back into the pattern of expecting this kind of... bustle was one of them.

"I'd almost forgotten," Caleb admitted, watching for a moment more before easing back from them a little. It was a bit overwhelming, even though he wanted to stay and watch them a while longer. "I'd closed myself off so far..."

Like cutting off a leg. He was starting to realize what Obi-Wan had meant by that.

Once again, Obi-Wan was reaching out with quiet reassurance, and an offer to steer Dume somewhere quieter. Down again, away from the worst bustle of the students.

"Don't overstretch yourself," he said, "But try and linger, if you can. Remember life, and what it feels like."

Caleb readily let Obi-Wan guide him back, settling in to linger once he was feeling less overwhelmed. His old sense of curiosity was niggling at his mind again, and he found himself wanting to explore farther out still, to look at the island and its inhabitants from this new (old) point of view.

"It's... warm?" He grasped at words to describe it. "It's right."

He'd remember to be worried about it later. Right then, he was fascinated all over again.

"It is, and you are a part of it," Obi-Wan said quietly. "The warmth, the ebb and flow - you belong to it."

Caleb was quiet for a moment, briefly remembering one of the last conversations he'd had with Master Billaba.

They were at war, and he'd known that, but he'd told her that he was more at peace then than they'd ever been. And she'd understood why.

It was good to know where he belonged.

Force, it had been a long time since he was able to say that, since.

"I don't want to put it away again," he admitted, softly. "I don't want to go back to hiding."

"Then don't."

Obi-Wan had hidden, yes, and forced himself to remain somewhat low key. But he had never been good at squelching that ember of the Force in him-- it was too natural for him, too grand a part of his being.

It had gotten him in trouble, yes. But it had also allowed him to survive.

"You must continue to hide your self from the galaxy, of course," he said. "But to deny yourself this is not something the galaxy demands of us, thank the Force."

"It's a big galaxy," Caleb - Kanan - noted. "Maybe I just haven't found a place in it yet that feels like it isn't demanding it."

The hermit life really wasn't for him.

"Or maybe I'm not paying the right sort of attention."

"You can choose to extend your senses like this, to simply listen, without acting," Obi-Wan noted quietly. "To simply remain aware. As I said, the Force is more than just a set of... flashy moves."

"I remember that," Kanan sighed, words tinged with quiet regret. "Being flashy isn't even on my radar these days. Flashy gets you killed, too."

Which he knew Obi-Wan was well aware of. He did.

"Wouldn't mind learning more about this sort of thing. Making connections. Just... Being."

"I suggest you spend some time practicing this week, or however long until we find the time to do this again," Obi-Wan said.

He slid up off the floor, busying himself with the water cooker once more. "Just... reach out. Let yourself drift. Remind yourself how much you are a part of it all. Just for a little while each day."

"I can do that," Kanan decided. It wasn't as though his days were terribly busy otherwise, after all. "A few hours here and there..."

It was possibly even a more practical use of his time than trying to figure out how to leave this place, at this point.

"Take your time."

And another cup of tea poured. Obi-Wan was making quite a few of them, now that he actually had the tools to do so reliably at his disposal.

"The goal is to reacquaint you fully with the Living Force. That is not a process that can be rushed."

Obi-Wan would know. He'd been trying to master it for several years now.

A few more moments, and Kanan was opening his eyes to look thoughtfully up at Obi-Wan.

"I suppose it isn't," he agreed. "Force knows I wasn't the best at it eight years ago before I pushed it away. It's not going to come at me like I'm some kind of Force savant now."

"But it will bring you some peace."

Obi-Wan turned around, taking a sip of his tea.

"So there's some value in the learning, and not just in the having learned, I wager."

At least Dume was proving to be an easier student than Anakin. (Then again, who wasn't?)

It did help some that, before Order 66, the Jedi life was all that Caleb had ever known. Maybe it would be harder to slip back into under other circumstances, but with Master Kenobi right there? He'd had lessons under the man before, after all.

Had it been Depa Billaba back from the dead, he would have thrown down who he had become in an instant and thrown himself back into life as a Jedi readily. Maybe with a few questions asked - he was still Caleb Dume, after all - but his Master had died for him. Master Kenobi was simply familiar. A comforting presence, all things considered. Somebody he respected.

"All lessons are worth learning," he noted, shrugging his shoulders a little. "I want to understand things. I always have. It's why I was such a pain to have in lessons back at the Temple."

The Troopers had even teased him for that, right before murdering his Master.

"Any teacher who had to teach Anakin prior to having you should have known better than to pretend you were so terrible," Obi-Wan said dryly. He sipped his tea again. "And those who didn't were simply ill informed."

"Master Billaba accused me of being infamous for it," Kanan replied, a little wryly. "But I'm pretty sure she was just teasing."

She had teased a lot. They'd had a comfortable relationship between them, Master and Padawan.

"Perhaps," Obi-Wan agreed.

In as much as a completely ambiguous comment could be seen to be agreeing to anything.

... Dammit, Kenobi.

"Perhaps? Oh, come on!"

Yeah, he had been. And the Clones hadn't even been surprised about it when she'd said as much, either. Sigh.

If Obi-Wan had any response to that one way or the other, he'd hide it behind both his beard and the tea.

He made his own fun.

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Office Hours, Wednesday

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