Inheritance

Intestate

Qui-Gon let his hand rest on the cheek a moment more before dropping it to his side with a sigh.

"Whatever it is you are hanging on to, you must let go of it, here and now. That is why you are here. That is why you had to die. The virus kept you from releasing your feelings to the Force, but here," the older master says gesturing to the space around them. "Here you can touch the Force, release all that you have been holding on to. This you must do, my Padawan, lest the virus truly consume you. You are not meant to become one with the Force. Not yet. You still have much to do."

Still Obi-Wan can say nothing. Of course he had wounds, deep weeping gashes that he knew would never heal, but he had learned to live with this pain, to bury the hurt until it was hidden in a secreted place down away from his heart where it could no longer harm him. But it wasn't hidden far enough. It has harmed him. It has killed him actually.

"Obi-Wan?"

His former master's resonating voice successfully pulls him out his darkening thoughts.

"Yes, Master?"

"What is it you are hanging on to? What are you afraid to let go?"

"I don't know... I've carried these things with me for so long... How do I know where they end and I begin?"

"You are not your pain, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon answers gently. Suddenly, large hands again rest on Obi-Wan's shoulders as a slight, but insistent pressure directs him downward.

"Meditate with me, Padawan. Together we will release all that holds you here."

Together the two Jedi fall gracefully to their knees facing one another, but their eyes are closed. They sink down deeply into a familiar tandem meditation; their two minds mingling in the effulgent currents of the Force. Once the two had settled, Obi-Wan directs his focus inward as he has been trained to do as an initiate. With Qui-Gon's presence closely following his own, he travels deep inside himself sliding away mental shields with easy efficiency as they plunge deeper and deeper still until Obi-Wan feels himself brush against a resistance; a well-known inky darkness, a shapeless hurt hidden behind thick mental walls.

What is it, Obi-Wan?

Memories of a lush and beautiful world. A young woman. A feeling. A deep and precious longing shared.

Satine.

Ah. Our mission on Mandalore. A pause. Why does this memory bring you pain?

Not pain, Master. Remorse and... shame. I was... prepared to leave the Order, to... leave you... for her. She had only to say the word. It was the second time I betrayed you, you just never knew of it.

You have never betrayed me, Obi-Wan. Even on Melida/Daan. To have the courage to do what you have to, to follow your heart and the Force honors me and fills me with pride. There is no shame here, Obi-Wan. Let it go...

For a quiet moment the Force around them is still, then the air pulses and gathers itself in a slow, rolling undulation. Finally, a shuddering exhalation echoes through the limitless expanse.

Well done.

Thank you, Master.

The pair continue their journey only to be stopped by another mental barrier. The darkness here is energetic, almost frenzied in its movements. The sound of invisible blaster fire rings in their ears. Qui-Gon is about to ask what pain this is when Obi-Wan releases a heavy whisper.