Chapter Text
The walk to the chambers where the High Council gathered was long, but yet strangely surreal. Obi-Wan felt like he was watching through a holovid screen. His heart thumped rhythmically, almost reminding him that this would be the last time he stood in front of the High Council as a member of the Order if Master Jinn had his way.
Ahead of him, cheerfully chattering at Qui-Gon, was Anakin. Somehow his energy levels remained high as ever, despite Obi-Wan’s stomach feeling like it contained thousands of nervous butterflies. Each step felt like it required all his focus, all his might for it felt like each foot weighed a thousand pounds.
*Stop it,* he scolded himself. *No melodrama.*
Reaching the doorway that led to the High Council Chambers, Obi-Wan settled himself down on one of the hard wooden benches, pulling his robes tighter as Qui-Gon kneeled in front of Anakin, large hands on the kid’s shoulders and talking in a quiet whisper. Anakin’s voice broke out in a burst of bright laughter, making Obi-Wan’s stomach drop as Qui-Gon pulled him into a tight hutg.
*Was… this what a Master-Padawan relationship should be? Trust? Support?*
“Padawan.”
Obi-Wan stood at the simple word, letting a faint wave of the Force sweep his robes smooth, and fell into step at his Master’s unoccupied side, a step back and away in proper position as Anakin claimed the usual position on his right side. The full Council was present - not a surprise given the severity of the Nabooian-Trade Federation situation.
“The High Council will come to order.”
Master Windu, the Master of the Order, announced, gesturing with his hand to close the door with a careful application of the Force. “We are convened on this Zhellday to discuss the admittance of Foundling Anakin Skywalker into the Order, sought by request of Master Qui-Gon Jinn, and spoken for by Senior-Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi. Master Jinn, what is your assessment as to why the Order should accept Foundling Skywalker into the custody of the Jedi Order?”
Obi-Wan kept his gaze fixed on the tiled flood underneath him, a shiver sweeping his spine at the faint prickling of Darkness he felt on his Master’s Force-sig as Qui-Gon straightened to his full height, a large hand placed protectively on Anakin’s messy blond head.
“Following the administration of a midichlorian analysis, Initiate Skywalker was determined to have a count of over twenty-thousand. I obtained his mother’s permission and freed Initiate Skywalker from slave-status to a Toydarion junkyard dealer called Watto. I promised him he would be trained.”
“Foundling, Master Jinn.” Councilor Billaba corrected. “He will only be known as an Initiate if the Order accepts him into our créche.”
“Twenty-thousand is nothing special, either, Master Jinn.” The rough voice of Councilor Poof added, clawed hands crossing over each other. “I can name many Jedi who have a midichlorian count that high or higher, including Senior-Padawan Kenobi.”
Ignoring the comments from the other Councilors, Councilor Ki-Adi-Mundi gave a soft hum. “The Force is strong with him.” He had his datapad and stylus in-hand, carefully eying the trio that stood in front of the High Council.
Qui-Gon lifted his chin, and Obi-Wan felt a prickle of smugness settle into his presence. “He is to be trained, then?”
Out of the corner of his eye, Obi-Wan caught sight of Councilors Koon, Tiin, and Koth, exchanging glances as Councilor Windu pursued his lips. “He will not be trained.”
Anakin’s expression twisted into an upset one as Qui-Gon put a large hand on the younger’s shoulder.
“No?”
Obi-Wan took a steadying breath, pressing reinforcements against his durasteel shields as Master Jinn’s force-sig shifted to match the volcanoes of Mustafar.
“He is the Chosen One, you must see it.” He caught sight of Master Windu’s hands tightening around the chair armrests, before being hidden within Master Windu’s large sleeves.
“His future is clouded.” Councilor Koon spoke, and Obi-Wan inwardly winced at the billowing waves of anger that his Master’s force-sig was reflecting.
“I will train him then. I take Anakin Skywalker as my Padawan learner.”
“You already have an apprentice, Master Jinn. Impossible to take another.” Yaddle warned, clawed hands curling together.
“We forbid it.” Mace followed suit, catching onto Councilor Yaddle’s unspoken plan.
Obi-Wan glanced at his Master, feeling a prickling of their Force-bond as Qui-Gon refused to meet his eyes.
“Then you leave me no choice. As is my Right, I hereby repudiate Senior-Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, effective immediately, to take Foundling Anakin Skywalker as my Padawan-Learner.”
The Force-presences of the High Council almost exploded, sending Obi-Wan reeling in shock at his Master’s plain words. *How could he do this?*
“You have gone too far, Knight Jinn.” Yaddle’s voice could’ve split durasteel as she beckoned Obi-Wan towards her seat with a gentle finger. He let out a choked whine, bracing himself on shaking legs and moved to drop in front of her seat on his knees.
Simple reassurances filled his mind as Yaddle rested a clawed hand on his head, gently stroking along his cowlick. An old créche lullaby swept into his mind as he registered the touch of Councilor Oppo Rancisis, one of his many carriers as a baby. Obi-Wan clenched his eyes shut, trying to block out the noise of his former Master as his voice once again filled the chamber.
‘Maijah, Obi-Wan. Maijah.’
He immediately recognized the mental voice of Councilor Saesee Tiin, being deeper than the majority of the currently-sitting Council. *Calm. Serenity. Peace.*
A gentle touch of approval to his force-presence as the Councilors settled into his mind; Yaddle and Oppo working to patch over the broken bond-port while Saesee and Billaba helped drown out the voice of his former Master.
“Enough.” Master Windu’s voice thundered through the chamber, nearly pulling Obi-Wan up from where he was nestled within the force-presences of the High Council, but Oppo’s quick reaction of wrapping gentle shields helped him settle back down. Through half-lidded eyes, he saw Mace standing from his chair, the edges of his robes fluttering in an invisible breeze and expression thunderously dangerous.
“Qui-Gon Jinn, you are imwan. Too confident in your own knowledge… some might say overconfident to dangerous levels. Taking a Padawan is not only for them, but for the Master to learn. We are always learning, even we who sit on the Highest Council. Your overconfidence, your inability to learn, has resulted in the Repudiation of Guard Feemor, the loss of both Senior-Padawan Xanatos du Crion and Initiate Bruck Chun, and now the repudiation of Senior-Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi.”
He felt choking tears start to rise up in his throat at the mention of his repudiation, before Yaddle soothed them back down. Master Windu continued, not letting the Maverick Jedi Master get a word in otherwise.
“A Padawan is a responsibility, some would say the largest responsibility given to a Master to teach. A Padawan is not a therapist or a solution for deeper issues. On top of all this, you dared to lie to both the High Council and the Council of Reassignment where Senior-Padawan Kenobi was concerned. Imagine our surprise when the Shadows told us of the ultimatum you gave Senior-Padawan Kenobi on Melidadaan… what was it again, Yaddle?”
“Stay to aid the Young and leave the Order or return to the Order.” Yaddle’s voice was strong, but underlaid was a clear sense of dislike towards Qui-Gon.
“Indeed. And may we remind you, Master Jinn, that you had no official legal right to force that choice out of a minor.”
“I had to return to the Temple to get medical aid for Master Tahl.” Qui-Gon protested. “Senior-Padawan Kenobi’s wish to stay and aid the Young would have resulted in the loss of her life.”
“She was in a Force-induced coma. She would have been fine until reinforcements arrived.” Councilor Adi Gallia said, voice sharp. “Master Tahl had no chance of perishing before a team arrived on the planet’s surface.”
Master Windu gestured for silence, fixing Qui-Gon with a stormy gaze. His force-present swirled around him, thunderously dark with faint hints of purple lightning flashing through the dark clouds.
“Upon further discussions with the Councils of Reconciliation and Reassignment, we, the High Council, have decided to Blacklist you, Qui-Gon Jinn, for a period of twenty years.”
Silence fell upon the chamber as Master Windu continued. “For these next twenty years, you are forbidden from taking another Padawan, directly teaching any Padawan or Initiate classes, assisting in the Créches, or any type of direct interaction with either Padawans or Initiates. If you are found to be breaking any term of your Blacklist, you will be immediately placed into one of the Temple cells for the remaining duration of your time.”
“Anakin Skywalker must be trained! He is the Chosen One, surely you see it, Councilors.” Qui-Gon’s expression was best described as panicked as his hands tightened over the kid’s shoulders.
“Do remember that the Order does not allow a Seeker to be their Foundling’s Master, Knight Jinn.” Councilor Ki-Adi’s voice was dangerously smooth, almost like oil, casting a glance to where Councilor Billaba sat. “Master Billaba, would you mind taking Initiate Skywalker to the Créche? I believe Créchemaster Yvokki is waiting for him.”
“Certainly.” Depa rose from her seat, offering a hand that Anakin eagerly took as an excuse to start pestering her with questions.
The pair exited the Council Chambers, leaving Qui-Gon facing the wrath of the remaining High Councilors.
Behind him, the doors slid open silently to permit entrance to two uniformed Temple Guards. One carried a pale robe with a stark black line sewn onto the hemlines; the other reached for Qui-Gon’s brown robe, pulling it off his shoulders and stepping back in a practiced motion as the first let the pale robe unfold. Ignoring Qui-Gon’s attempts to throw it off, the pair slid on the new robe.
A pale cream fabric made up the majority of the new robe, but in a place of prominence were black lines crossing the hems and making up a detail of the Order on his right shoulder with glyphs spelling out *Iman*.
“You are dismissed, Knight Jinn.”
Ignoring the narrow-eyed glare shot his way from his former créchemate, Mace turned his attention to Obi-Wan. “Senior-Padawan Kenobi.”
“Yes Master?”
Senior-Padawan Kenobi looked exhausted, both emotionally and physically, as Mace lowered himself out of his chair to put himself on the same eye-level of the Stewjoni Padawan. “Despite your age, you are not ready to take the Knighting Trials yet.”
Obi-Wan nodded slowly, recognizing that he did not feel ready to take on the Knighting Trials as Mace continued. “As you will need a Master to complete your training, I would like to offer myself to complete your Padawanship.”
“Force-damnit, Mace!” Councilor Ki-Adi complained, but his tone was geniuelly playful rather than actually hurt. “I was going to offer.”
“You still can.”
“Senior-Padawan Kenobi, I would like to offer myself to complete your Padawanship.” Councilor Plo Koon. Again, the formal words of offering filled the Council Chamber as the remaining Councilors put in their own requests except Councilor Yaddle. “Old, I am. Too old to take another Padawan.”
He felt… overwhelmed, simply put. *How many throughout the Order have been offered by the High Council as a Padawan? Surely the number isn’t too high?*
“You do not have to make a decision tonight, Senior-Padawan Kenobi.” Master Windu’s voice was gentle. “Councilor Yaddle has offered to let you share her apartment until a decision has been made. Would this be alright?”
Obi-Wan blinked, mind reeling. “Yes… Councilor.”
“Then, I hereby dismiss this gathering of the High Council. Yaddle, take care of our young Padawan here.”
“Always do. Come on, ibli kyber.” Yaddle slid out of her seat, and perched herself on Obi-Wan’s shoulders. “To my quarters, we go! Is there anything you’d like to eat?”
“Slo-Min’s?”
Yaddle’s force-presence brightened at the mention of her favorite eatery in the Temple. “Excellent choice, Padawan. Forwards we march!”
Mace couldn’t help his smile as Obi-Wan’s force presence brightened ever-so-slightly at the green Master’s cheerfulness as Plo sidled up next to his bondmate, force-presence twinkling with delicate waves of lightining. “You don’t think you’d solo-teach a Senior-Padawan, would you, Mace?”
“If I knew better, no.” Mace took a deep breath, watching after the disappearing figures of Obi-Wan and Yaddle. “But no matter what happens, we will rally around Senior-Padawan Kenobi. He doesn’t deserve what has happened to him throughout his career as a Padawan.”
“Indeed. Now, come on. There’s dinner and drinks, and I don’t know about you, but I need something to take my mind off of what happened today.” Plo wrapped a hand around Mace’s arm, tugging him in the direction of their shared apartments.
“Stubborn.”
“You love me.”