Anakin’s silence was disturbing, to say the very least.
The normally verbose teenager was certainly not a man (or boy) of few words, and he never shied away from expressing his feelings on any subject, no matter the inappropriateness of it.
Most Jedi Masters would likely relish in the sudden silence; perhaps the blonde haired Padawan had finally found the meaning behind Force-blessed silence. Obi-Wan would certainly like too.
Yet, he could not shake the feeling that something was very utterly wrong. Maybe it was the Force that guided his next action, or perhaps it was something different, something parental.
Who was he to decide which? “Anakin, why are you being so quiet? This isn’t like you.”
Anakin glances at his Master, eyes downcast though level with his Master’s own. The nearly 16 year old was already as tall as him, and he was growing every day it seemed.
Obi-Wan suppressed his sudden nostalgia for the little, outspoken, stubborn, yet sometimes adorable, compassionate, and sweet boy that Anakin was growing out of.
And it certainly did not help when he had to ask Anakin for assistance with reaching a spice in the back of the cabinet. Anakin’s sudden spike of fear broke Obi-Wan free of his musings.
With a start, Obi-Wan realizes he had been waiting for Anakin’s response for over a minute now. He turns his body fully to face the boy (nearly a man now) sitting rigidly on the couch. “Anakin?”
Anakin seems to jolt out of a deep meditation, though Obi-Wan knew that Anakin rarely, if ever, meditated.
“I’m sorry, Master, what was the question?” His blue eyes shine, the emotions fading away from his Force signature.
“I had asked if you were feeling alright? Are you quite well?”
Anakin nods after a moment’s hesitation. As time progressed and the teenager aged, Obi-Wan had noticed Anakin did not seem to trust him as much.
It worried Obi-Wan, even as he remembered going through this with Qui-Gon. It was likely just a stage, and he still trusted Anakin to come to him with any real problems.
It went without saying that Anakin saw him as a father-figure. “I’m fine, Master. Just tired. Still recovering from that nest of gundarks, I suppose.”
Obi-Wan sees the teasing glint in Anakin’s sky-blue eyes and allows the deflection to pass without comment.
Trust was key in a Master-Padawan relationship, and he trusted Anakin would approach him when he was ready, as he always has done. “Hmm...yes. Vanqor certainly was tiresome.
I do believe the gundarks quite liked you.”
Anakin smiles that Force-damned smile of his, almost as if he knew something his master did not. “I could live without them, if I’m being honest with you, Master.
Next time, let me arrange the introductions with the wildlife.”
“Ahhh, yes. I’ll keep that in mind.
Especially since I have the scar to remind me that your, shall we say, rescues aren’t quite yet expertly done,” Obi-Wan adopts the tone of a diplomat,
not dissimilar to what he did when Anakin was a young boy who needed a laugh.
Anakin rolls his eyes, “Your fault, not mine.”
Obi-Wan allows a laugh to escape, one rarely used during these stressful times. Things would be normal between them again soon.
Anakin would be a Knight in a few years, perhaps with his own cheeky Padawan. Trust would return of its own accord. After all, Anakin was very much like Obi-Wan in his younger days.
A ray of hope shines through the window, the cloudy Coruscanti sky revealing a setting sun.
The Council’s fears of Anakin’s turn would be for naught, and he would honor Qui-Gon’s memory by completing Anakin’s training.
However, he never thought he would gain a brother from this experience.