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Coming back to the temple was a mistake.
Obi-Wan wasn’t meant to be a Jedi. Sure, he had once been convinced his path was that of a Jedi Knight, but that had all been nothing but delusions born of a dream. He’d been quite foolish to believe it.
He was a failed initiate. No one, not a single knight or master, had even considered taking him as a padawan. All of them turned him away when he asked, when he dared look up at them with hope. He should have taken that for the clear sign it had been.
But no. He’d pushed and pressed and somehow tricked Master Jinn into taking him on. He had been so happy, he didn’t care that his master was so reluctant to teach him. He ignored how he was so often left alone to care for himself…to study on his own.
His master was probably trying to give him a hint that he wasn’t wanted every time they were separated on a mission, but he’d been just so stubborn. So set on clinging to his reluctant teacher.
And then…Melida/Daan.
He’d been so sure he was doing the right thing. That he was following the will of the Force by staying and helping the Young. But he’d been wrong. The Young had won their peace, but at a great cost.
Because he’d failed.
He’d failed at being a Jedi and saving Cerasi. She paid for the peace with her life.
And now he was back in the temple, where the fact that he was unwanted had increased ten-fold.
His master was as cold and uncaring as ever. His fellow padawans avoided him, their whispers following his back. His class teachers ignored him when he tried to participate, and knights all gossiped about how it was a mistake that the Council had allowed his return. His friends acted strangely when he joined them.
Even his kyber crystal in his own lightsaber no longer sang for him.
He was alone.
He was unwanted.
He was a failure.
And that was all before what happened with Xanatos, the temple bombing, and Bruck…
Things only got worse from the part he’d played in that.
Where things had felt indifferent had twisted with a restrained hostility.
He was a burden with nowhere to go.
The temple no longer felt like home, he didn’t wish to burden any of the service corps, his birth planet were hostile to those with the Force, and…
There was nowhere else.
And he just…couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t pretend. Couldn’t act like things were normal, that he was wanted.
And after another padawan burned his arm with her lightsaber, he took the opportunity to leave. Not to go to the Halls of Healing to be treated, but to simply…disappear.
No one would miss him if he didn’t go to the rest of the day’s classes, after all.
So consumed by his rolling emotions and thoughts, Obi-Wan hadn’t noticed when the beautifully cared for gardens of the temple he had been mindlessly walking through had given way to something overgrown and forgotten. The garden around him felt wild and untamed, so unlike the rest of the Room of a Thousand Fountains which always felt so calm and relaxing.
By the time he noticed, he half wondered if he’d somehow gotten to some unnamed jungle planet. But no, he had to still be in the temple. The gardens were located in a pocket dimension of sorts, thanks to being directly over a Force Nexus. They were large and sprawling, and just because he’d never seen such a wild section of it didn’t really mean anything. He was sure that the gardeners who tended the gardens simply couldn’t tend to the entire thing, and he’d likely been wandering far longer than he thought.
It didn’t matter. The untamed, forgotten area of the gardens he’d found himself in felt…comforting in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. It reached for him in the Force, soothing his frazzled mind and drying the tears he hadn’t noticed flowing down his cheeks.
It seemed to recognize him as being the same as it. Neglected and uncared for. It didn’t fit in with the rest of the gardens.
He slowed his steps until he stood still and closed his eyes, finally feeling able to center himself as he let the Force sooth him the way he’d hoped his Master had, the way he’d hoped his friends had…anyone had.
Feeling a little better, he opened his eyes, only to find himself face to face with a beaked face.
A varactyl.
It was small, not too much older than a hatchling, its feathers still a soft downy grey that puffed out around its head and along its body in a frankly adorable way. It was latched onto a tree, looking at him with its bright red eyes.
“Hello there.” he greeted it.
It cocked its head to the side and then let out a chirp before skittering down the trunk of the tree and over to him. It didn’t hesitate before it promptly climbed up his legs and back until it was parched on his shoulder, nuzzling against his cheek with a purr-like sound.
He smiled and gently pet its feathers.
“It’s good to have a friend.” he couldn’t help but think out loud before stepping forward once more, continuing deeper into the forgotten garden.
If he got lost, oh well. This place accepted him.
The sky above was growing dark when he happened across a massive tree. Old, weathered, twisted, and wild. It’s great roots deep, but also peaking up out of the moss-covered ground. A little alcove had been formed, and he settled himself into it.
Obi-Wan was starving. He had skipped first meal that morning, and saber class had been before midmeal. He pulled out a nutribar he’d squirreled away into a belt pouch and opened it, sharing it with his new little friend before curling up and letting the Force lull him to sleep.
It was at least midday the following day by the time sleep ebbed away from Obi-Wan’s mind, the varactyl nuzzling his neck, nipping at his ear, and letting out a few chirps.
He gave it a little pat on the head before pushing himself up and searching his pocket for another nutribar. It was his last one, and he shared it again with his little friend, knowing he’d have to make his way back soon. Staying in the tree really wasn’t sustainable, no matter how tempting it was to never leave.
With his friend curled around the back of his neck and across his shoulders, he once again began to wander, hoping it was the right direction to find his way back out of the wild garden.
He didn’t expect to round a bend and find, sitting in a small clearing with a campfire under a small pot of something that smelled of spices, a fully armored Mandalorian.
He gasped, startled and jumped back as he reached for his lightsaber automatically.
The Mandalorian turned at the sound and tilted their helmeted head in curiosity.
“Su cuy'gar, ad’ika.”
Obi-Wan wrinkled his nose at the unfamiliar language.
The armored being chuckled, “It means hello, kid.”
He gave a nervous nod, but didn’t say anything, simply gripping his lightsaber hilt a little tighter.
It had happened while he was on Melida/Daan, but he had still heard of the Galidraan Massacre. How so many Jedi had died, and how so many more Mandalorians had died. How it had reignited hostilities between historical enemies.
And here was a Mandalorian cooking midmeal in the middle of the jedi temple gardens.
“I assure you, you are safe, jet’ika. Mandalorians never harm children.”
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Making midmeal.” they said with amusement tinting their deep voice.
“Sure, but why here?”
“Why not here? It’s as good a place as any.”
“We’re in the middle of the temple!” he said, throwing his arms up.
Their helmeted head tilted slightly again, “We are? I was unaware of any temple here.”
“Of course we are! I was napping in one of the trees in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, and now here you are! How’d you get in without the temple guards noticing?”
“Well, I entered no temple, jet’ika. I’ve been making my way through this jungle for a tenday. As far as I’m aware, we’re on Manda’yaim.”
“But—” He turned to look down the path he’d come from at the tree he’d slept in. It was gone. “But…”
“Hmm,” they hummed, “The Force does work in unexplainable ways sometimes. Would you like to join me? I have plenty to share.” they gestured at the pot of cooking food.
Obi-Wan frowned and closed his eyes to listen to the Force for any warnings or feelings of foreboding. Rather than that, it was calm, encouraging, even. So he nodded and placed his lightsaber back on his belt before moving to sit across from the Mandalorian.
They shifted and removed their helmet to offer a friendly smile. He had known they weren’t humanoid based on the shape of the helmet, but seeing their face now, he didn’t know what they were, but their features did seem vaguely familiar.
“I’m Tarre, he/him.”
“O-Obi-Wan, also he/him.” he said. The varactyl on his shoulder chirped and he paused, tilting his head as a name came to him, “And this is Boga, she/her.”
Tarre nodded, “Well met, Ob’ika and Boga.”
The Mandalorian pulled out a pair of cups and spooned some servings into them, handing one over to Obi-Wan and keeping one to himself.
“I’m afraid I don’t think this is varactyl-safe. It’s quite spicy.”
Boga trilled and moved off Obi-Wan’s shoulders, snapping her beak at an insect she spotted, intent to feed herself.
Obi-Wan stirred the food in his cup with his spoon for a moment before looking up at Terre, “Is this really not the temple?”
“As far as I know. It’s been years since I last saw the inside of any of the Jetii’yaim’e.”
“You’ve been to the temple?”
“Some of them, not all. The Room of a Thousand Fountians is the name of the gardens in the Couruscant Temple, right?” He paused long enough for Obi-Wan to nod, “I’ve only been to that temple once or twice in my padawan days.”
Obi-Wan blinked in surprise, “You were a Padawan?”
“I was. I was also a knight for a while before the Force guided me down another path. I returned to my birth planet to help the people here.”
“...Mandalorians?”
“Yes.”
“And they…are ok with you being a Jedi?”
“Former Jedi. It took a bit to gain the trust of some of the older clan heads, but they accepted me once they knew I was here to help Mandalore.”
Obi-Wan bit his lip and looked down at his alarmingly red looking food, “I had wanted so much to be a Jedi Knight…but…but I don’t think that’s what I’m meant to be. I did what I thought was the Jedi thing to do when on a planet where kids were at war with their parents, hoping to end all the fighting, but…it just made the Jedi…they don’t…” he took a deep breath, “They don’t agree with my choice to do that, and now things have been…”
He sighed and looked up at the Mandalorian, “I don’t want to go back to all that.”
Tarre was quiet a long moment, and Obi-Wan could feel his presence in the force brush up against his own before the man spoke again.
“Would you like to stay with me? I can train you in the Force as well as teach you the ways of Mandalore.”
“Really? You…you actually want to teach me…want me?” he asked with wide eyes and a small unsure voice.
“I do. I think maybe I was guided out here by the Force to find you, Ob’ika. But the choice, I believe, is yours.”
“Yes! I—please, I’d like that.”
Tarre smiled again and moved closer to Obi-Wan, placing a clawed hand gently on Obi-Wan’s cheek, “Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad, Obi-Wan. I know your name as my child.” he said and the beginnings of a bond snapped into place between them.
Obi-Wan couldn’t stop the tears from overflowing from his eyes as he set his cup down and threw his arms around Tarre. The man held him close and rubbed his back as he let out his emotions before finally pulling back when the tears slowed to hiccups.
“Eat, ad’ika, you’re far too thin for a human—or near—child of your size.”
Obi-Wan let out a little laugh as he wiped his cheeks dry on his sleeve before picking up his cup and finally taking a bite.
Spicy heat exploded across his tongue and he coughed, drawing a chuckle from Tarre who passed him a canteen to drink from.
“You’ll get used to the spice of Mandalorian food, I’m sure.” he half soothed, half teased.
“Yeah,” Obi-Wan coughed, “After it murders all feeling in my mouth.”
-End-