The Revelation: Part One

Qui-Gon sighed in relief as he set his now clean mug back into the cupboard. The kitchen was finally completely clean. It took only a few hours, but he had been meaning to get it done for months. It was nice having the time off to actually do it. He and Obi-Wan had been doing missions almost non-stop for the past few months. The Council was finally letting them have a vacation period to relax. He quickly took up the chance to clean the kitchen.

"Master."

Qui-Gon turned and saw his eighteen year old padawan standing by the open doorway of his sleeping quarters with a bag slung over his shoulders. Qui-Gon grinned. "And where are you off too this evening, Padawan?" he asked as he headed out of the kitchen area. He leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen and folded his arms.

"Bant and Garen invited me to go swimming. I haven't seen them in a while," Obi-Wan answered. "I'll be back in a few hours, Master. Promise."

Qui-Gon nodded. "Have fun, little one."

He watched his son paused and turned back to him with a pleased grin. "Of course, Master." The sight of his smiling face filled Qui-Gon with pride and love. He smiled back as Obi-Wan left and sighed heavily. Obi-Wan had grown into such a fine young man. He was wise and strong. He had such a caring and noble heart. So full of light even after everything they gone through together. And despite everything, there was still this innocence about him that touched him so deeply. Obi-Wan was growing up and it pained him just as much as pleased him. Soon, in proximately four or so years, his son would be Knighted and going on solo missions and taking a padawan of his own. He would be leaving him for the next step of life. Did every father have such conflicting emotions when it was time for their children to leave home? Saddened that they were leaving, glad that they grown to fine young children, happy that they would have the chance to experience things on their own, fearful of all the trials they would go through without them. Did they, too, wish to keep them in their arms forever?

He loved him. Qui-Gon loved his son so very much. And not for the first time, he was thinking why. Why did Obi-Wan have to be born? Why in the way he did? Why Qui-Gon?

Qui-Gon shook his head. It had been years and the questions wouldn't leave him. Not once. He wanted to just be content with the fact that he was having this chance to have and raise a son, but something in him just wouldn't let him be content. He was supposed to find out and understand. The Force wanted him to know. His eyes narrowed as he analyzed the feeling the Force was sending him. It didn't just want him to know, it wanted him to know now. The Force was finally going to give him the answers he sought to know for years. He let out a breath of relief. Finally. His heart began pounding in his chest with anticipation. What would he find out about his son?

The archives. For some reason, Qui-Gon felt the need to find the answer in the archives. It was time to search for answers. So, he left his apartment and headed for the Temple Archives.

Unsure exactly what he was looking for, Qui-Gon wondered around the stacks of data, waiting to be guided to where he needed to go from the Force. To his surprise, the Force seemed to have been leading him farther and farther into the archives, pass the stacks of data and soon to the ancient, antique section that was rarely, if ever, looked at by the population. He, himself, had never been in this part of the archive. It was a section that was off-limits to any Jedi below the rank of a senior padawan and citizens. Outside of the Jedi Order, only those with high clearance were able to enter, like senators, and that was only if they had a legal cause. The area was too fragile for sightseeing. He had to enter his authorization codes and have his hand scan to prove he was allowed in.

Instead of stacks of datatapes and datacards, there were rows and columns of books made from paper, yellowed with age, and ink, which was fading even now. It had dimmer lighting in this section. There was a musty smell in the cool atmosphere.

Qui-Gon spent hours going through the rustling pages of the books, handling them with care and gentleness. He struggled to read the fading print, understanding why, at that moment, society moved pass books and ink and onto datapads.

It was interesting. The place was enriched with a history long forgotten. If he hadn't been impatient to find answers about his son, he would have liked the chance to enjoy going through some of the old, almost forgotten, history carried inside the books.

He sighed as he carefully replaced a thick book back on the shelf. He had no idea what he was looking for. This would have been so much easier if he did.

His attention was pulled to a rather skinny, almost unnoticeable brown spine of a book squeezed in between two very thick brown books. If it wasn't for the Force guiding him to it, he never would have seen it. Knowing the answer must be contained in the small volume, he handed it with extra care.

He read through the thin book with intense, searching eyes. It was a book on prophesies, different prophesies. The writer of the book, who remained anonymous, promised readers on the intro page that all the prophesies written in the book was recorded no place else. He was the receiver of the prophesies and told no one of them. When he was told a prophesy he would immediately write it down in his journal and never speak of it again. He went on saying how dangerous it was, having the knowledge of a prophesy. Qui-Gon quickly skimmed passed the introduction, eager to find the answers he sought.

Most of the prophesies sounded farfetched and strange. One or two of them sounded familiar when he thought back on his knowledge of history, but only one of them caught his undivided attention and he knew he found what he was looking for. The prophesy of the Chosen One. A young boy who shall bring balance to the Force. The Son of the Suns. He shall be brought forth from the Force itself, conceived by the Force to balance out Light and Dark. He shall do as no man has done before. The protector and keeper of Hope would be needed for him to succeed.

Qui-Gon glanced up in thought. The Chosen One? Was Obi-Wan the child mentioned in the prophesy? He shook his head as he replaced the book on the shelf. Obi-Wan couldn't be. He had a mortal mother and a mortal father. He wasn't conceived from the Force.

What did the line 'Son of the Suns' mean? Sun is light, heat, fire. Did it mean son of the light? A boy filled with a bright light. The light side of the Force? No. That couldn't be it. Suns, not sun. Why the plural? If it meant a boy filled with the light side of the Force, wouldn't it just be a singular sun? He shook his head. That line, according to the whispering Force, was not important right now.

Qui-Gon slowly left the archives, knowing he must mediate on this. As he headed back to his living chambers, he found himself lost in thought.

Maybe the prophesy didn't literally mean 'conceived from the Force' in the way Qui-Gon thought it did. He was thinking the boy had no mortal father, but maybe it meant the Force willing him to be conceived despite all odds. The Force made it happen. It was Lady Ser'Fay's first time, his to, for that matter. They did take precautions and they had only done it once. Despite all odds, the Force willed Obi-Wan to be conceived. Was that what the prophesy meant? Was Obi-Wan the Chosen One to bring balance to the Force? But that would make him Son of the Suns? And he still didn't know what that meant. Interrupting that line was not important right now, he knew. He pushed it to the back of his mind for later reflection.

He entered his living quarters. He felt for his padawan's presence, checking to see if he had returned from swimming. He didn't sense him nearby. With Obi-Wan still out, it gave Qui-Gon some more time to think over the Chosen One prophesy. He walked over to the balcony window and knelt down. The best thing to do was mediate on it. The Force would tell him what he needed to know.

He was soon lost in the sea of the Force. He was floating in peace and serenity, a calm river sweeping him to his destination. He focused on Obi-Wan and the prophesy of the Chosen One. He didn't concentrate too hard, knowing the Force didn't like being forced. He let it come to him.

"…not the Chosen One…" the Force whispered.

Obi-Wan was not the Chosen One of the prophesy. Then, who was he? Why led him to the prophesy?

A phrase he almost forgot from the prophesy came to him. … The protector and keeper of Hope would be needed for him to succeed…Protector and Keeper of Hope?

"…keep Hope alive, when Hope is all but gone…" the Force whispered. "…Obi-Wan…"

Qui-Gon slowly slipped out of his mediation. His eyes were wide with surprise, barely noticing the darken sky out the glass balcony door. Obi-Wan, his son, was the Keeper of Hope. He rubbed his chest when he realized just what this meant. There would come a time when Obi-Wan needed to preserve hope, to protect it and keep it safe. A darkness was coming and his son would be right in the middle of it all. His life would not be easy, not at all. His poor son. His strong son, he realized. The Force sent his son on this path; it must know he would be able to fulfill it. How would he prepare him for something dark, yet unknown?

There was a slight sighing sound behind him that took him from his lingering thoughts. It was only then that he realized how dark it had gotten outside. He must have been in meditation for quite a few hours at least. He looked over his shoulders, his stature relaxing when he caught sight of his eighteen year old son sleeping on the couch, still fully clothed in his day wear. A soft, tender smile formed on Qui-Gon's face as he stood up, groaning when he felt his old bones crack under his weight.

He walked over to Obi-Wan and knelt before the couch. He stared at the young face sleeping peacefully, unaware of the dark future ahead of him, unaware of his father who would be there every step of the way. He touched Obi-Wan's pale cheek and the boy snuggled closer to him, almost falling off the edge of the couch. Qui-Gon grinned in tender amusement as he made sure his eighteen year old padadwan didn't fall. He gently pushed Obi-Wan back, securely, on the cushion. Obi-Wan groaned at the disturbance, but didn't wake.

"My son, your future is dark, but you are strong," he whispered. "You are Light. My light." He nodded as he brushed his hand down his padawan's braid. "Yes, you are strong. You make me proud to call you my padawan and son." Obi-Wan was meant to be born to keep Hope alive and Qui-Gon was chosen to be his father and caretaker to protect him until he was ready to face his destiny on his own.

He pondered, once again, at the previous years and how fast they flew by. Looking at his young relaxed face, Qui-Gon could still see traces of the thirteen-year-old boy he rushed to rescue. Force! He could still see the four-year-old boy he had on his lap while the healer looked at both of their wounds. He grew so quickly. It was like a blink of an eye. Four to thirteen and thirteen to eighteen. He wanted time to slow down, allow him to catch up. He didn't want his son to grow up so fast.

He felt his heartache in his chest and he closed his eyes. He desperately, so very desperately, wanted to tell Obi-Wan the truth. He wanted Obi-Wan to look at him with the knowledge he was staring at his father. He wanted to be able to hold Obi-Wan in his arms without fearing what his son might think of him if he held on to long, too tight. He wanted to tell Obi-Wan how much he loved him. Throughout their years together, Qui-Gon had caught glimpses of what it would have been like if Obi-Wan knew the truth. They were small and far between, but they were one of his most cherished memories.

He reopened his eyes and stared at the young face of his son. He brushed his hands along the cheek and sighed. Would Obi-Wan ever learn the truth or would the knowledge die with him? How would Obi-Wan take the news? Would he be spiteful because the truth had been kept from him for so long? Would it be the greatest news he had ever received? Qui-Gon didn't know the answers to any of those questions, but knew it didn't matter. The Force would tell him when it was time, if the time ever came up.

He sighed and pulled his hand away. "I love you, son." Would he ever be able to tell him that? He glanced out the window, at the passing speeders. 'Force, bless my son. Do not fail him in his dark moments. Be with him always. Help him remain strong,' he prayed silently to the higher forces.

It finally made some sense, why it was Qui-Gon that gave Obi-Wan life. He thought back to a mission several years ago, when Obi-Wan had his memory wiped. Obi-Wan had only seemed to recall his feelings for his older master. He called him father, not realizing the truth in his words. He had asked him why they had to keep their relationship a secret. When Qui-Gon answered that it was against the Codes to have an attachment, Obi-Wan realized that Qui-Gon felt differently. And he did feel differently about the rule on attachment. It was that feeling that prevented him from telling the Council about his son. Did the Force give him Obi-Wan because it knew he wouldn't have told anyone? Because he didn't agree with the attachment rule? Had he agreed on the rule, would he have been blessed with Obi-Wan? Force, what he would have missed if he agreed with the rule…

"M—Master?" a tired voice asked, still fogged in sleep.

Qui-Gon turned back to his padawan. Obi-Wan's eyes were slit opened and stared at him in a sleepy daze. He groaned and tried to shake the sleep from his eyes. He sat up and turned to him. "What time is it?" he asked as he rubbed his eyes.

Qui-Gon grinned at the innocent sight. It was times like this that Obi-Wan appeared younger then eighteen. He got off the floor and sat on the end of the cocktail table. "Late, I could imagine. What were you doing sleeping on the couch?"

Obi-Wan yawned as covered his month with his hand. He blinked, still trying to wake himself up. "I didn't mean to fall asleep, Master. Sorry." He looked over to where Qui-Gon had been meditating. "I was waiting for you." He turned back to Qui-Gon and gave him a look. "You've been meditating for hours, Master. What were you meditating about? If you don't mind me asking," he added quickly, knowing it was considered rude to inquire about something that might be too personal.

"Something not to worry about for quite a few more years," he answered, hoping it was true. He didn't believe Obi-Wan was ready to take upon the darkness just yet. He was much too young and still had much to learn. Of course, wouldn't Qui-Gon always believe that? "Was there something you wish to speak to me about?" he asked, knowing Obi-Wan must have waited for him for a reason.

Obi-Wan shook his head and grinned. "It's too late now. I was hoping for some dinner before heading off to my comfortable sleeping couch. You know how well I cook."

Qui-Gon chuckled, knowing full well Obi-Wan didn't inherent his father's ability to cook. "I'm sorry, Padawan." At that moment, as if remembering his hunger, Obi-Wan's stomach growled. Obi-Wan's face flushed as he glanced sheepishly at his father. Qui-Gon eyes glittered with amusement. "If it is any consolation, I do not believe it's too late for a meal. I don't think I'll be getting sleep any time soon. I have too much on my mind." He stood up and held out a hand for his son. Obi-Wan placed his hand in his and he helped him off the couch. "How was swimming?" he asked as he led Obi-Wan to the kitchen.

Obi-Wan sighed. "Bant challenged me to a race." He shook his head as he sat down at the table. "I never seem learn not to accept. She wins every time, but I always accept her challenge, knowing I won't win."

Qui-Gon chuckled as he pulled out a pan from the cupboard. "There may come a time when you will win, Padawan. You accept because you hope to win someday." He paused as he thought about his own words. Obi-Wan, the Keeper of Hope. Qui-Gon just now realized that his padawan had always had hope burning inside him. Hope of fulfilling a mission, hope of being found when lost, hope of rescue when there didn't seem to be any hope at all, hope his master would be healed of nightmares or injury. He was the child of Hope. It made perfect sense he would be hopeful in all things and not just when it contains to the Chosen One. He was his little hopeful one.

Obi-Wan snorted in disbelief. "I would beat her in the water the day the Republic falls, Master."

There was a painful pang in Qui-Gon's heart the moment Obi-Wan said those words. He froze for a moment, wondering why he had felt a sudden pain, a sudden fear.

"It's not going to happen," Obi-Wan continued to say, unaware of his Master's momentary distraction.

His son's words helped Qui-Gon push his confusion away. He chuckled as he grabbed some ingredients. "There is nothing wrong about hoping."

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I guess not, but she is a Mon Calamari and I am only human." Qui-Gon turned to him and raised an eyebrow. Obi-Wan sighed in resignation and he rolled his eyes in defeat. "Fine. Yes, I do hope to win someday despite the fact she is a Mon Calamari," he admitted. "A foolish hope, but hope nevertheless. And it has nothing to do with pride!" he pointed out.

Qui-Gon chuckled at Obi-Wan's 'forced' confession and turned back to the food. "Of course not, little one. How was Garen?"

"He was the smart one. He didn't accept the challenge. Instead, he refereed. Not that it was needed. Bant beat me by a long shot. Which reminds me; he's leaving in two days and was wondering if I was free tomorrow. We have anything planned?" he asked Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon shook his head. "No, Padawan. Nothing besides our early morning meditations and our two hour training after lunch. What is his assignment?" he asked curiously. "And how is Fletcher doing? You were up late last night taking to him." After the mission on Aaeton a few years ago, Obi-Wan kept in contact with Fletcher Scutu.

"Fletcher is doing great. He and his mother adjusted well a life less privileged. He actually told me that Anto Xin just proposed to her."

Qui-Gon eyebrow rose at the news. "That is nice. He will treat them well. I guess some good came out of the suicide of the Board members. If they had gone to jail instead, Fletcher's mother would have trouble getting a divorcé." A few days after the virus was released, instead of going to jail, most of the Board members committed suicide, Scutu included.

Obi-Wan nodded. "As for Garen, he got assigned to a mission on…"

Qui-Gon sighed contently as he listened to his son's voice. He wouldn't worry about the future yet. The Chosen One and the Keeper of Hope were not needed at that moment. Right now, it was just Master and student, father and son…

THE END

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The last installment of the "Son He Never Knew He Had" called, "The Years After", will be posted soon. Keep an eye out!