Last chapter! Sorry, I'm probably mean for ending it like this, but this was the story that my fingers wanted me to tell when I opened up the word doc. It's got a happy-ish ending though? So stick with it :P

And if you're there when the world comes to gather me in

Oh, if you're there, I will be blessed.

-From "I Will Be Blessed" by Ben Howard

6. And One Time Qui-Gon (Briefly) Wished He Wasn't a Father

The fact that Qui-Gon feels no pain tells him that this is the end.

He had felt the wicked red blade slice through his chest; the immense pressure and heat of Maul's saber cutting through his robes and his flesh, tearing straight to his heart and vital organs. But still, he feels no pain as his legs buckle and give out from underneath him.

White noise screams in his ears, and everything feels frozen in time as he falls, first to his knees and then to the hard ground. The Force surges through him; urgent and tenuous, singing through his veins with a strange mix of deep, deep grief and a quiet joy that is just as strong as the sadness. Qui-Gon Jinn's time in this life is through, and the Force knows it. Qui-Gon knows it too, and with knowing comes acceptance and a strange peace.

There is no death, there is the Force.

Black spots dance in his vision, but his eyes still seek out the one face that is more important to him than anything else in the world. Across the chamber where they battle Maul, Obi-Wan's face is contorted in a horrified scream.

He is too weak to do anything beyond lying there and trying to draw his next breath, but he and Obi-Wan have always had an uncommonly strong bond. One of the strongest bonds in the history of the recent Jedi Order, in fact. So he can feel every single one of Obi-Wan's emotions coursing through their bond at the moment—the swirling, overwhelming mixture of fear, adrenaline, rage, and absolute panic that Qui-Gon is dying.

It is not the Jedi way for Obi-Wan to feel this strongly for his master; to feel this degree of attachment to another being— but Qui-Gon cannot deny that the feelings are reciprocated on his end, too. He thinks wryly of when he'd first met Obi-Wan; of how hurt he had been by Xanatos' betrayal at the time; how certain he'd been that he would never take on another padawan learner. And Obi-Wan had burst into his life; a pure bright light in the Force—and somewhere between dangerous missions and shared muja fruits and a polished, opalescent river stone given as a life-day gift, they had become family.

It is not the Jedi way, but then again, Qui-Gon has always been a maverick, and Obi-Wan has always followed his example when it had counted; in spite of all his grumblings about order and respecting tradition and the Council.

He can feel the anger in Obi-Wan's fighting and reaches out desperately to his apprentice, even though it costs almost all of his fast-waning energy. "Do not fight with anger, Obi-Wan," he commands through their bond. One last lesson from master to padawan. "Do not give into the Dark side. Honor your master, and don't end it like this."

He can feel Obi-Wan's struggle against his anger—something that has always been a weakness of the boy's, although he has come so far in the past ten years— and he knows the exact second when Obi-Wan sighs and gives in to his master's instruction; the last instruction that he will ever mentally send to his apprentice. The duel changes slightly; becoming more focused and intense as the ire dies from Obi-Wan's swift, agile motions, and turns into the simple, overwhelmingly pure power of the Force.

And just as soon as it began, it is all over. Darth Maul is dead, and Obi-Wan has killed him, although he hadn't turned to the Dark side in the end. Pride sings through Qui-Gon's veins even as his life bleeds out of his body. Obi-Wan runs to him, gathering his master in his arms, and Qui-Gon feels only peace, in spite of the pain that is now beginning to register as his body is shifted and jostled.

He lifts his eyes heavenward, where the sky would be if not for the roof. Naboo is known for its beautiful sunsets, and he thinks of dying sunlight and evening stars as he lifts his fervid praise and thanksgiving up to the Force; the end and beginning of all things. Thank you for granting me the gift and privilege of this boy's life. Thank you for my time with him.

His eyes drift downwards to Obi-Wan's face. He dimly notes that there is a shadow of stubble on Obi-Wan's cheeks, and wonders when his apprentice had become a man without him noticing. When had his arms become so strong; his fighting so advanced that he could defeat a Sith lord single-handedly? What had happened to the sweet, stubborn twelve-year-old he'd taken on all those years ago? When had he become a Jedi Knight, more than capable of passing the Trials?

He knows that time is fast running out for the two of them, and there is still so much to say. He hasn't fully explained himself about offering to train Anakin and letting Obi-Wan take the Trials. There is so much left unspoken, and so little time.

"Obi-Wan," he breathes. Obi-Wan is shaking with barely-repressed sobs. His ginger padawan braid brushes across Qui-Gon's forehead, and Qui-Gon realizes with a sort of bittersweet nostalgia that it will likely be cut off very, very soon once he is gone. "Promise…promise me you'll train the boy."

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan chokes out, ever the obedient, perfect padawan. He suddenly sounds much younger than his twenty-five years, and Qui-Gon reaches out with the remainder of his strength, lightly brushing the back of two of his fingers over Obi-Wan's cheek, pouring all the love and affection he can muster into the gesture and through their dying bond.

"He is the Chosen One," Qui-Gon continues weakly, desperate to give Obi-Wan this last, incredibly vital mission. "He…will bring balance. Train him."

Obi-Wan is bobbing his head vigorously in agreement, tears welling up in those ever-changing eyes. The bond is flickering now, but Qui-Gon can still feel Obi-Wan's thoughts, and his chest contracts sharply at the absolute anguish in his padawan's mind, even as his eyes drift shut one last time, as though against his will.

Obi-Wan's grief is crushing; soul-consuming….and for a brief instant Qui-Gon wants to take back his earlier gratitude; wishing fleetingly that he could go back and undo their whole relationship and all the years leading up to this moment, if only to shelter Obi-Wan from this; to spare the boy that is his son in all but blood from this pain.

But just as soon as the thought crosses his mind, he pushes it away. The Force has a reason for everything, and he trusts in it. And he would not change his time with Obi-Wan for anything.

He is almost gone now—there is time for perhaps just one more thought before he must surrender to the expectant warmth of the Force. He feels the press of Obi-Wan's face against his own, dripping tears against his cheek; feels him mentally pleading and begging with Qui-Gon to just stay with me, master!

"Little one," he whispers through the thin, spindly thread of their bond. "Obi-Wan, my son…"

And then there is no pain or regret anymore; nothing but light and peace and the Force. His last thought as he dies is a reflection on the irony of his life—all this time, he'd thought his vocation was simply to be a Jedi Master; to serve the Jedi Order and the Force.

What he hadn't realized; what he hadn't put a name to until the very end, was that he had been a father all these years too.

For many years, he watches from afar.

His boy becomes a strong and just Jedi Master, just as Qui-Gon always knew he would. The pride is still there, but so is worry and grief for all the Obi-Wan suffers. He sees Obi-Wan's struggle to do right by Anakin; to train the boy to the best of his abilities, and he regrets having placed the burden on the young man's shoulders.

Obi-Wan cuts his padawan braid and grows a beard, and his ever-changing eyes settle into a wise, somber blue-gray. He is strong and handsome; the perfect image of a Jedi Knight.

Qui-Gon watches grimly as Anakin's anger spirals out of control and leads him to the Dark Side, but even then, he still trusts in the prophecy; knowing that Anakin will eventually bring balance one day, even if it isn't in the way they had all anticipated and hoped for.

He feels Obi-Wan's grief, guilt, and self-loathing as Anakin loses the battle with his rage and becomes Darth Vader, and his heart aches for both of them. For Anakin, who had been unable to overcome his attachments and fear, and for Obi-Wan, who views himself as a failure after his padawan turns. Qui-Gon is familiar with that same sadness; having felt the exact same way when Xanatos had succumbed to the Dark Side.

Still, Obi-Wan does not give up. He guards young Luke Skywalker from afar in the lonely sands of Tattooine, and Qui-Gon aches for the way that lines of age settle prematurely into his padawan's face; the way his hair greys and his smile grows infrequent. He lives peacefully as a hermit for eighteen long years; meditating and monitoring the Rebel Alliance from afar; ensuring that the young Skywalker boy remains anonymous and safe until he is ready for his destiny. But Obi-Wan had not been born for this kind of existence—he blazed brightly in the Force; had trained extensively in diplomacy and combat, and was not meant for the simple, ascetic life of a hermit. He had had so much potential.

How differently everything had turned out from what they had all hoped for! And yet, as always, the Force offered guidance and strength as the years went on, and there was still hope with young Skywalker.

Qui-Gon feels pride overflow as he watches Obi-Wan guide young Luke towards the Force. And he watches with peaceful acceptance as Obi-Wan goes to meet his death fighting Vader. He knows, as Obi-Wan does too, what the outcome of the duel will be. But Obi-Wan has played his role in the Force's great plan, and now it is finally his time to rest from what has been a very hard life.

Qui-Gon feels it keenly the moment that Obi-Wan's life is cut off, and he waits anxiously for his padawan to rejoin the Force. The situation is somewhat unique, as Obi-Wan has been struck down by his own padawan and thus has the ability to remain on the celestial plane somewhat, but he knows that Obi-Wan will still be able to join the flow of the afterlife where Qui-Gon waits with Tahl, Mace Windu, Siri Tachi, Bant Eerin and other friends from the days when life had seemed so simple.

Soon enough, he feels the familiar warmth of Obi-Wan's Force signature, and excitement stirs in his chest. To the others, perhaps, the newly-deceased Jedi Master appears in the afterlife as he had looked when he had died—grey beard, kind eyes that had seen too much; thin, wiry body. And perhaps to others, he appears as he had when they died during the Clone Wars—a ginger-bearded, well-spoken, quick-witted Knight.

But to Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan is the same as he has always been in Qui-Gon's mind and memory: a lanky, smooth-faced thirteen-year-old; solemn-mouthed and yet with humor in his bright eyes.

Obi-Wan stands some twenty feet away from Qui-Gon in the white light of the Force, his head bowed. Qui-Gon is so overwhelmed by his joy that it takes him a moment to recognize Obi-Wan's conflicting emotions—fear that he will not be accepted here because of his failure to keep Anakin away from the Dark Side, and guilt that he had left Luke Skywalker behind with so much of his destiny left to be fulfilled.

But Qui-Gon pushes all the warmth that he can muster through their returned and renewed bond, and sees Obi-Wan's head jerk up in surprise at the familiar mental touch. A tentative smile crosses his young face as he sees his Master, only to be replaced by trepidation that Qui-Gon will be disappointed with the life his padawan has lived.

But Qui-Gon only smiles gently at the way the boy nervously chews on his lower lip, calling out to him from across the light. "Little one." Obi-Wan's luminous eyes fill with tears. "You've done well, my son."

And then Obi-Wan is running to him, any trace of hesitation gone; flinging himself into Qui-Gon's embrace. They had rarely hugged in life, but it feels as familiar as the grooves of a lightsaber handle in the palm of his hand now; the way that Obi-Wan's slight weight presses and settles against him, strong grip wrapping around Qui-Gon's waist.

"I missed you, Master," Obi-Wan breathes after a long moment.

"And I, you," Qui-Gon returns with a smile. "But I have watched you from afar as much as possible. Even in the worst moments, you were never truly alone."

Obi-Wan draws away from Qui-Gon's shoulder, wonder sparking in his eyes. Qui-Gon marvels at the pure white of his former padawan's Force signature for the umpteenth time.

"There were many happy moments, too, Master," Obi-Wan says humbly. "It was difficult, but the Force has been good to me."

And there will be time to hear about those moments, but for now he just enjoys the feeling Obi-Wan's joy pulsing through their renewed bond, a single phrase singing through his mind and into Qui-Gon's.

Home again at last.

Okay, I know Yoda and Obi-Wan have a brief convo at the end of RotS about how Obi-Wan could commune with Qui-Gon, but I couldn't really find any info on that in those interim years between ep III and IV, and I felt like it would be a more meaningful reunion this way, so ignore that canonical inconsistency there haha

Again, thanks so much for reading and reviewing! I don't have any specific projects planned for this fandom in the near future, but I'll be back again once the muse strikes, although it's hard to say when that'll be.