FicWad

The Force is at the center of all being, and the Force is Light.

Light is everywhere: Light is life. It is emotion, sensation, knowledge, energy, and love. Midi-chlorians saturated with the Light of the Force help to support and promote life, so Light naturally permeates the cells of every living thing in the cosmos. Though there are some living things that have lost or been stripped of their connection with the Force, and even some few that have lost their Light entirely without also sacrificing their life, it is extremely rare to find life anywhere, in any galaxy - even within the galaxy of the Galactic Republic - and not find Light, not find the Force. Under the tutelage of and with some occasional extra help from one or another of the (infinitely much wiser and much more powerful than he) Shamans of the long-extinct Force tradition known as the Ancient Order of the Whills, the Force ghost that once was the being known as Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn has been forcing himself to expand into that Light - actually struggling to force himself, when by all rights he should be eagerly welcoming the experience, the knowledge, the adventure of such exploration.

Beings formed entirely of the Light - mostly the luminous souls of ancient beings, such as the Shamans of the Whills, who have intentionally transformed themselves from creatures of flesh into entities of pure energy, their spirits not only sustained but given almost unimaginably powerful abilities through the power of the Force since they are, in essence, now formed entirely by the Force - constantly flicker in and out of whatever physical space happens to be around him, continuously distracting him, lowly Force ghost that he is, by effortlessly capturing and mesmerizing what still remains of his human senses - senses that are only gradually, painfully, being replaced by the awareness of ways to consistently and instantaneously perceive and know and understand, at the most fundamental and complete of levels, everything surrounding him in ways that are so much more complete, more true, and more inherently alien than anything any mere mortal fleshly body could experience or learn or even ever fully comprehend that, when the transformation from his most peculiar half-life subsistence as a Force ghost into existence as pure spirit is complete, the luminescent Force spirits reassure him that he will no longer be prey to fascination with the beauty of their Light. Qui-Gon fervently wishes that he could find a way of hurrying the process along and finishing it, quickly and soon, or else that the Force spirits would simply leave him alone until it's all over and done with. It's disconcerting to discover that one has lost a month's worth of time - which could have been better spent elsewhere, otherwise - basking in a dazed glow at the side of some Force spirit curious to see the Jedi Master who somehow, though almost entirely ignorant of the process of truly becoming one with the Force, managed to get himself at least halfway there all on his own, acting purely on instinct alone.

Transformed by feelings of love far too fiercely bright to easily yield to the unknown darkness of death's dominion into an entity of mind and will and emotion alone, Qui-Gon Jinn is quite aware of the fact that there is knowledge and power locked within him now such as he could have never even dreamed of, before, when he was still a being of living, mortal flesh, regardless of the fact that he was a Jedi Master of not inconsiderable power and wisdom. He is also aware of the fact that any and all questions he might have ever had or ever will have about the Force - and therefore, in a very real way, about existence as a whole - are all going to be answered, in time, for as a being of pure Force energy, a spirit who has truly become one with the Force, all things - all mysteries of the Force, of life, of existence, and of the cosmos - will be revealed, over time, to ensure the fullness of such a one's spiritual growth and the harmony and balance necessary first to allow and then to uphold and deepen one's unity with the Light of the Force. Indeed, Qui-Gon is entirely aware of the fact that he is an unbelievably lucky individual who has been given a unique chance to truly plumb the depths of the Force, not just by learning about some of the ways of the Force, as thought of and embraced and, hence, taught by tried and acceptable methods among the current Jedi Order, but instead by becoming one with those mysteries, all of them, all throughout the fullness and richly vast expanse of time and space and matter and energy - and perhaps even, or so some of the eldest Force spirits sometimes seem to hint, beyond those constraints of the physical universe.

Yes, this should all be very fascinating. It should be exhilarating - miraculous, even.

Except that Qui-Gon Jinn also knows perfectly well that, Force ghost or not, he has essentially been dropped down into the midst of all of this knowledge and power and Light not because he was deserving of it or because it was the will of the Force that he become one with it, but rather because of his own incompetence and obstinacy. His foolishness and his pride saw him dead, slain in battle on Naboo by the apprentice of the one remaining true Dark Lord and Master of the Sith, before he was supposed to die. The Force had not been prepared for him to perish that day, and Qui-Gon most emphatically had not been willing to abandon his duty or his loved ones - either his Padawan learner, Obi-Wan Kenobi, or his new pupil, Anakin Skywalker, or even his former Master, Dooku, whose help he had so foolishly declined, refusing to allow Master Dooku to accompany his party to Naboo for fear of the Jedi High Council's reaction, fear that they would censure his old Master - and so rather than simply allow him to perish, out of his own stupidity, the Force had instead met him halfway. Thus, Qui-Gon became a Force ghost out of necessity and desperation, not because he was ready or even suited for existence as a being of pure spirit and Force energy, but instead because he was too stubborn to let go of his life entirely and the Force had not been prepared to see him utterly perish. While he lived, Qui-Gon had been exceptionally strong in the Living Force, and this ability does translate to a certain natural ability to understand the will of the Force and even eventually become one with the Force and exist wholly within its Light; however, it does not mean that he has the knowledge or even the strength to obey that will and to join with that Light, on his own.

It has been very hard for him to accept his current limitations, given his strange half-life existence as an insubstantial being sustained by the Force and his own inner light and love but not yet truly one with the Light of the Force, and so not yet able to fully draw upon the immense reserves of power that are contained within the energy flows of that Light. He is extremely weak, compared to the Force spirits, and - much to his dismay - the Force spirits, by and large, adhere to a policy of noninterference with the physical world, instead devoting themselves wholly to the Force, to fulfilling its will by pursing a growing balance in unity with its Light, by seeking after and experiencing all of its many mysteries. Though the Force spirits all seem to be extremely sympathetic to his plight and quite willing to teach him, overall they are not willing to use their seemingly infinitely vast powers to help Qui-Gon affect the physical realm, not even to aid in fulfilling the prophecy of balancing the Force. As a lowly Force ghost, he cannot easily make himself heard by those who are not formed of the energies of the Force, and, since he cannot truly manifest himself within the physical world - lacking both the strength and the knowledge to mold himself into a form of energy able to interact with and affect the material objects of the physical realm - he can only weakly affect beings and objects that exist as physical, material entities. Hence, he's capable of influencing the physical realm far less than he could when he was a Jedi. And this frustrates him to no end.

While Qui-Gon knows, logically, that he ought to be thinking only of his development, concentrating on accepting guidance from the Force spirits without trying to sway them into doing things on his behalf that he does not yet have the knowledge or the strength to accomplish on his own, and devoting himself tirelessly and entirely to the puzzle of how to become one with Light, without simply dissolving into it and being lost, and, thus, achieve true unity with the Force, becoming a being of pure love and Light alone, instead he finds himself endlessly fretting about those he has left behind, with his apparent death and utter dissolution into the greater power of the Force, and worrying about the havoc his untimely demise has wreaked on events that should have happened and have not. He cannot shed the guilt that haunts him for what the Jedi Order has made of Obi-Wan and Anakin, the way the High Council has all but ruined them both, and for the way that Dooku has fallen into darkness, into the snare set for him by the Sith Lord Darth Sidious, because of the pain and anger of thwarted love brought about by Qui-Gon's fall on Naboo. Guilt is a distraction that he does not need. He knows that. It hinders his training, slows his learning, and delays any kind of greater understanding of or union with the Force. It is damaging, he knows, not only to his progress but to the light and love that form and preserve his essence, his soul; yet, he cannot help himself. He cannot make himself stay away from Obi-Wan and Anakin, or even Dooku.

The frustration is doubly strong, for he very well knows he is hindering his ability to help those three by continually seeking after them rather than focusing his energies on the Force, on learning, and yet he cannot deny his nature either, which continually prompts him to try to help, even in instances where he knows he hasn't enough power or wisdom to truly be able to help. There are times when he is almost sure that the frustration is meant to be either a trial, to test and prove his worthiness for unity with the Force, or else a lesson in patience or obedience. But there are also times when he wonders if he has not thrown things so far out of balance, with his untimely and wasteful death - which has not only hurt the ones he loves but left Obi-Wan and Anakin bereft, stripped of the protection that he and his former Master might have otherwise been able to offer them against the many well-intended cruelties of the Jedi High Council - that even the will of the Force itself is being frustrated in its attempts to see things set right again. His ability to see the future - never a very strong gift, while he was living, since it is much more a thing of the Unifying aspect of the Force than it is of the Living face of the Force - has grown much more reliable since Qui-Gon became a Force ghost, and what he sees now almost inevitably sickens him and grieves him endlessly, for almost every remaining possible probable pathway for the future lends itself - and most often for decades to come - to the machinations and the madness of Darth Sidious. He sees so much death and darkness that his entire being aches with the thwarted need to help, to change things and to stave off or even completely destroy that devouring darkness.

The change brought about and being brought about still by his unfinished and, hence, still ongoing process of transformation had all been and still remains somewhat overwhelming. Even with the immense strength of character and will instilled within him by his Jedi training and the even more powerful sense of purpose instilled within him by his love - and not only of the Light itself, but of specific individuals - Qui-Gon had awakened to the Light feeling like a lost, small, wholly insignificant particle caught up within a vast, world-sweeping whirlwind of timelessness and time. Thrown entirely free of the containment of his body not only by pain - not only from actual physical injury and the distress of his swiftly approaching death but from the emotional shock and anguish of his spectacular failure against the Sith Lord as well - but by his own need, his own struggles to amend his overwhelming mistake, and yet nevertheless anchored to a very specific and limited space and time by love and the overwhelming needs born of that love, in an instant all things had become to Qui-Gon as a being of pure energy, an entity formed of Force Light alone, sees them: a net of energy and years, covering the planet of Naboo and holding it - much like a many-faceted jewel strung on a thread of an infinitely complex and unimaginably vast, rapidly expanding looping latticework of limitlessly beautifully and densely patterned lace - to all the rest of the infinite singing arc of the universe in a crystal web of time. Like a Force spirit, Qui-Gon had been able to see both backwards and forwards in time, though his vision of the future is, necessarily, limited and shaped and constantly apt to change from one moment to the next, depending on what is happening in the ever-changing flow of the now; yet, apparently entirely unlike a Force spirit, he had been and remains unable to feel no passion at what he saw and still sees. Like his guilt, his passion - his love - distracts and frustrates him.

As a Force ghost motivated by love into growing into balance and unity with the Light of the Force and, thus, inevitably transforming (however slowly) into a Force spirit, Qui-Gon is free to have what he has always instinctively sought, often to the chagrin of the Jedi High Council: a true, living union with the Force. As a being of the Force, he would never again be required to put aside his own meditations, his own communications with the Force, to tend to the needs of others or bow before the interpretations of others. No more would his time - and his mind - be divided between duty and the will of the Force. Unfortunately, since it is love itself, in the form of the most unbreakable bonds of all - not duty, not obligation, but rather privilege, and a need to protect, to shelter, to guide and to teach, and, overall, to help - that has made this possible, it feels as if one unending struggle and precarious balancing act has simply been replaced by yet another unremitting inner battle and even more complex juggling act. The Force spirits who have been teaching him reassure him constantly that things will get easier. In time, apparently even the memories of his past life, as a mortal, will fade, and the love that has sustained him will transmute into a much larger, much less specified love of the Force as a whole, regardless of the face of reality and the darkness that might stain it. Qui-Gon can see within himself well enough to know that he is changing, and what he see seems to reinforce the claims of the Force spirits, as to his growth and eventual transformation into one of them. Yet, at times he is not entirely sure that this prospect pleases him, though he knows it should make things much easier, rationally - or at least more clear-cut.

His soul he sees as a fiery flower whose petals are turning diamond-bright, diamond-hard, and utterly lattice-locked at their outer edges, and yet whose heart is still soft and silky yielding flesh. He can see that it will, in time, all be one dazzling complex matrix of crystalline light and opalescent color, breathtakingly beautiful and enduring forever . . . yet, it will cease, then, to be a flower. And that prospect disturbs him enormously, despite the obvious goodness of the Force spirits whose souls are already frozen matrices of light and color. He who was, in life, Qui-Gon Jinn of the Jedi has told himself, numerous times, that it is simply thus to be a Force spirit, to see and understand the patterns of all things from the distant remove of the Light. It is thus to be free. Yet, pain nevertheless still pours from some shattered and desolate place inside him - the pain of inevitability, of loss, of stillborn dreams, of regret, and of choice. He would have wept, if only there were anything within him, as a being of love and light only weakly flickering into Light, that could weep. He has tried many times to tell himself that this is the last time he will ever have to feel this pain or the thwarted and frustrated love that is its source. For all beings formed entirely of the Force, the Force is the bone of their bones, the blood of their blood; the raw energy of the cosmos tints everything they perceive and everything they are. The core of life is Light, and the Force is Light. The key to life everlasting is not simply through knowledge and use of the Force, but rather surrender to its will and unity with its Light. Thus, Qui-Gon is now heir to eternal life and essentially unending power, both of which will (eventually) be his to give and to use in any way he might see fit.

Yet, it is precisely this truth that gives him pause and lays him low, for if such things are to be his, then Qui-Gon cannot understand why they cannot be his to use in helping and giving to others, in sharing with others, even in loving and being loved, even among corporeal beings of the wholly physical realm, even though it is apparently not a thing that is done by Force spirits. Never mind that! It is a thing that he would do, a thing that is wholly within his nature, a thing entirely of his nature, and so shouldn't it also, by all rights, be or become a thing of theirs, as well? The Force spirits will not answer his question, not one way or the other. They cannot be convinced to do anything that will greatly affect the physical world, and they cannot be made to understand that he does not appreciate and cannot afford the time he still occasionally loses to them, because of their curiosity and his lingering mortal predilection for bedazzlement. Yet, they do help him, whenever they can, and they cheerfully continue to offer him all of the knowledge - and therefore potentially all of the power - that they have won, through their own unity with the Force's Light. They seem more bemused by Qui-Gon's passion - his individual and individuated love - than opposed to it, almost as if their attention is being drawn to something that they've forgotten or accidentally lost, not something that they have willingly surrendered or allowed to be sundered from them. Surely, it cannot be possible that the Force - an agent of life, of love - would spurn him for persisting in loving and wanting to foster growth in others, even if the bulk of his love and need to nurture, to teach and to help lift up, tends to be directed towards a very specific few individuals . . . can it? After all, the Force always does seem to foster growth, to encourage life, and light, and love . . .

This gives Qui-Gon hope when the pain of guilt and frustration and regret and fear would lead him to despair - a damaging emotion capable of growing so darkly malignant that it might, if allowed to go unchecked, fester into an evil great enough to devour the love and inner light that sustain him and keep him pinioned to this half-life within the reflected glow of the Force's greater Light. If that were to happen, then he truly would cease to be, his soul perishing much as his body once died upon Naboo, broken open and wracked with pain enough to cause him to plummet entirely free of existence. Instead of enduring in the warm penetrating glow of the Light as a Force ghost - able to do aught else but learn and love and feel and cling fiercely to hope, true; yet, nevertheless, still growing towards unity and life everlasting within its lambent embrace as a Force spirit - Qui-Gon's light and life would be extinguished forever. Although they will not give him nearly as much help he would like to have from them, the Force spirits do give him hope, and so Qui-Gon endures. And he helps whenever and wherever he can, fighting to preserve those whom he loves, to help shelter them so that they can grow more fully into their own understanding of and communion with the Light of the Force, trying to encourage them to increase their strength in love rather than giving in to the looming darkness, and struggling, more than anything, to avert and even eject evil from their lives. And he hopes. Always, Qui-Gon hopes. Even now.

Foresight warns him that the darkness of the evil that is the Sith, that is the Dark, is rapidly falling upon the galaxy he knows best, that of the Galactic Republic. It seeks to overtake all of those whom he loves, threatening to devour them whole. Yet, what Qui-Gon sees now nonetheless causes him to kindle with hope. Anakin and Obi-Wan are currently on route to Cato Neimoidia. Although space on the transport they have hitched a ride upon is not yet of such a precious commodity that they have been required to share quarters, they are nevertheless currently curled about one another, so close that their sound of their hearts beating naturally forms but one steady drumming rhythm. They are comfortably and safely together now because Anakin Skywalker has been plagued by dreams of darkness. Always, when such nightmares come and he is able to do so, he instinctively seeks out Obi-Wan Kenobi: not just for the comfort of company, but rather for the protection that only the light of such a truly unselfish, unbound love can provide. And Obi-Wan always takes him in when Anakin comes to him in need of help, regardless of the circumstances or situation, opening his arms and his heart and bringing Anakin into the circle of his warmth, his protection. Only once, in all the time that Qui-Gon has been watching them - and even when he has not been able to watch over them himself, because of his training or his preoccupation with the dazzling fire of the Force spirits or his need to check up on his old Master, Dooku, Qui-Gon has still been able to observe them through the memories of those same Force spirits, who unstintingly share the knowledge of their memories of everything that has happened to or with them, everything that Obi-Wan and Anakin have done and said, in the times that Qui-Gon cannot be there with them - has Obi-Wan failed to offer Anakin this protection, this comfort, and then only because Anakin had failed to come to him.

The prescient dreams about his mother's pain were so terrible that at first Anakin could not bring himself to remember them fully once he had awakened, and so he had not sought solace from them in Obi-Wan's arms. Knowing only that his Padawan was distracted from sleep by dreams of his mother and distracted himself by Anakin's increasingly erratic behavior and the fear that Anakin might actually be ill, Obi-Wan had tried to reassure his Padawan by reminding him that dreams pass, in time, and left it at that. Circumstances had, soon afterwards, conspired to separate the two, so that Obi-Wan was not within range of Anakin when the dreams escalated to the point that he could no longer banish them from his conscious mind. Obi-Wan had not been able to comfort Anakin or protect him from these nightmares because he had simply not known that Anakin was having them. Afterwards, after Geonosis and Anakin's return to the Temple, when nightmares of a different sort had struck, Anakin had automatically risen from his bed and crawled shaking into Obi-Wan's arms, and Obi-Wan had simply held him and rubbed soothing circles across Anakin's bowed back and tense shoulders until the young man had calmed down and drifted back into a peaceful slumber. They had looked, then, much as they do now - arms curling naturally around each other, Anakin with his head pillowed on Obi-Wan's chest and Obi-Wan with his left hand tangling in Anakin's hair. Just the sight of them like this - together in so many more ways than the mere proximity of their bodies can explain - causes Qui-Gon's heart to swell, flooding him with love and filling him with hope. It is difficult to believe that Anakin could ever fall away from the light of that love, so unselfconsciously offered and so freely returned, that he could ever fall away from the Light into darkness, when Qui-Gon can look upon the two and see how Anakin burns with the reflected and redoubled glory of Obi-Wan's love.

He is well aware of the power of Obi-Wan's love, the shocking strength of the light of that love, which, even when Obi-Wan was a mere stripling of sixteen, was enough and more than enough to heal Qui-Gon utterly of the darkness of overwhelming despair and anger that would otherwise have inevitably drug him down into the abyss of the Dark, after the senseless death of Qui-Gon's longtime best friend - and, once upon a time, the sincerely believed to be mate of his heart and soul, though his selfishly violent reaction to her murder and the peace that had come to him, afterwards, regarding the true depth and nature of his attachment to her, due to their very real deep friendship, and the ridiculousness (not to mention the self-destructiveness and outright self-centeredness) of his sudden all-consuming preoccupation with and obsessive regret for the unrequited nature of their supposedly tragically doomed love affair (and, therefore, his complete disregard of their actual close friendship), taught Qui-Gon differently - Jedi Knight Tahl, Jedi Master of Obi-Wan's agemate and good friend Bant Eerin. Obi-Wan's love for and trust in him - the ever-present quiet murmur of his mind along their deliberately wide open (due to Obi-Wan's interference) Master-Padawan bond, Obi-Wan's thoughts all quicksilver and sunlight, shining and beautiful and more than enough to unmask and overcome any worry, any anger or pain or grief, that Qui-Gon might otherwise have succumbed to, every comforting touch of his faithfully determined young Padawan's mind conveying more strength and surety of purpose than he could have ever imagined possible, in the midst of the crushing darkness of a personal crises of belief - had been the anchor that kept Qui-Gon grounded in the Light, in the aftermath of Tahl's death.

Obi-Wan had utterly refused to give up on Qui-Gon, stubbornly refusing to allow him to fall into darkness, and Qui-Gon had taken refuge in his Padawan's strength, basking in that love, until the storm had passed and he had been able to read the truth of his own heart - and to make peace with both Tahl's murder and with the fact that their lives within the Jedi Order, far from keeping them apart, had actually allowed them to come together, in a long-standing working relationship of mutual respect and admiration and friendship that had, in its own way, been a very real form of love - just not the kind of love he had initially mistaken his feelings for Tahl for. Without the selfless purity of Obi-Wan's devotion, the light of Obi-Wan's love, holding him steady within the Light, Qui-Gon knows that he would have never survived that time of trials with his own light intact. Force, how he misses that, misses being able to draw upon and steady himself with the strength of Obi-Wan's belief, of his faith, his trust, his love, not only in Qui-Gon, specifically, but also in Obi-Wan's general and unshakeable support of and dedication to the Light, to the fulfillment of the will of the Force for the maintenance and expansion of the strength and sway of its Light, not only in the Republic but within the galaxy, itself. Qui-Gon misses his Padawan, his Obi-Wan. He misses that light, the way Obi-Wan Kenobi would shine and shine and shine, with a brightness and unwavering purity of purpose, just for him. If there is anything that the Force ghost truly and deeply regrets about his life, it is that it has taken him so long, and required so much, not only for him to become aware of but to truly understand and accept the fact that his love for Obi-Wan is not only an inextricable part of him, not only a limitless source of strength and determination, but also deeply and absolutely right, on a level that words alone cannot fully express.

Much like the foundations of his love for Dooku, for his own Master in the Jedi Order, Qui-Gon's love for Obi-Wan is what has shaped the essence of who and what he is, made him grow into the Jedi Master that he was, while living, and still feels that he is now, in the inmost core of his being: a man strong in the Force and more powerful still in the love of its Light, instinctively capable of transcending the limitations of his own flesh and the restrictions of his own limited knowledge - foregoing true death even though the death of his physical body was imminent by bypassing dissolution into the greater Light of the Force in favor of seeking after a more balanced joining, a more deep-seated and equalized and lasting union, with that Light - through nothing more than the very act of feeling that love, surrendering to the powerful pull and requirements of that love, which, above all other things, ever seeks to protect all that it holds within its scope. On Naboo, Qui-Gon had purposely run ahead of Obi-Wan, during the fight with the Sith, out of a frenzy of need to protect his beloved Padawan from the devouring darkness of that warrior's berserker fury. It wasn't until Qui-Gon heard Obi-Wan screaming for him, out of anguish, as he fell, that he'd realized - too late, almost, for anything more than hollow regret - his mistake. For it was only then that Qui-Gon had known that, as much as he was willing to die for his Padawan, he needed to live for him, instead, if he truly loved him, truly wanted what was best for him, to help foster and strengthen Obi-Wan's light by making him happy, keeping his heart whole by protecting their bond. In that moment, Obi-Wan's happiness, his well-being, the sanctity of his light, had meant far more to Qui-Gon than anything else - even his own pain.

The anguish of his failure, the completeness of his error, at having thrown away his life to protect his Padawan from a danger far dwarfed by the peril he had, with his fall, plunged Obi-Wan directly into, was such that only the acknowledgment of that mistake - the utter acceptance of it in the realization of a blind determination to make it up to Obi-Wan, somehow, someway, to someday fix this horrible botched mess he'd made of everything - had been sufficient to save Qui-Gon from choking upon his own despair and drowning within it utterly, immediately, before Obi-Wan could fight his way through his own darkness, past the Sith, and to his side again. As his Padawan had rushed to him, lifting his head and shoulders to cradle him, with infinite care and tenderness, in his lap - already preparing to fling himself, the entirety of his power, of his own being, into the fight to preserve breath and reinstate health within his beloved Master's broken body - Qui-Gon had, at last, understood. In spite of what the Jedi Order believes and what the Jedi preach, attachment, in the form of love, is never wrong if the one who loves finds oneself changing to fit another in such a way that those changes consist of actual growth, not abandonment or forcing or mutilation of the bits and pieces that make up that person's self, the elements that form the innermost core and truest nature of one's being - especially not since that person can, through and because of such growth, help foster growth in those who are loved, as well. And despite the fact that Qui-Gon had wasted far, far too many years fearfully running away from and then foolishly trying to prevent himself from once again fully opening his heart to precisely that kind of relationship, in that moment, as Obi-Wan bent blazing with power and love over him, Qui-Gon knew that he had, nevertheless, still formed a lasting attachment, a selfless and overriding love, to his persistent new Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi.

It was in the fullness of this understanding that Qui-Gon had forestalled Obi-Wan from his efforts to save him - efforts, he feared, that would inevitably destroy Obi-Wan's light, one way or another - opening himself, the fullness of his feeling, the absolutely unhesitating nature of his understanding and his acceptance, to Obi-Wan along their bond to silence him when he would have protested Qui-Gon's declaration that it was too late for him, dazzling him with the blinding light of his own love for Obi-Wan and then drawing forth his grieving Padawan's heart into a binding promise to train and to care for Anakin Skywalker - the young boy from Tatooine, already so obviously powerful in the Force that Qui-Gon had honestly been sure he must be the Chosen One of Jedi prophecies - now that Qui-Gon could not, himself, fulfill his pledge to the ex-slave's mother to see to the boy's welfare. Obi-Wan had acquiesced, agreeing to Qui-Gon's request and promising to train Anakin, but it had broken something within him, shattering the young man's control so badly that Qui-Gon had feared, for one heart-wrenching moment, that he had just clinched the totality of his failure. It was in response to that soul-devouring fear, as he had struggled to gather enough strength to soothe and reassure Obi-Wan with the reality of his love for him, that Qui-Gon had, entirely accidentally, rediscovered and embarked upon the first part of the process necessary for putting off the life of the flesh in favor of a life of Light, the mind and the soul preserved and given an intangible form - though that form, being created of energy, could, under the proper circumstances, manifest within the physical world as a material being, a vessel of tangible mass containing the incorporeal energies of the immensely magnified and refined light of the self, in union with the greater Light of the Force - through the energy of the Force alone, a knowing and balanced union with its greater Light, sought and affirmed and reaffirmed constantly with love, loving acceptance and fulfillment of the Force's will.

Cast loose from his flesh and caught fast with Obi-Wan's sphere by the purity of his love and his strong connection to the Force, his powerful connection with the Living Force and his utter submission to the will of the Force, Qui-Gon had become a Force ghost in the time it took for a tear falling from Obi-Wan's right eye to plash down softly on the cast-off shell of his body. Full of too much love and too much need to help, because of that love, to let go of himself, but not knowing enough, not being able to let go of his own fears enough to fully embrace the Light, either, Qui-Gon had been caught in a sort of uncertain and in between state, in a sort of half-life, one that wasn't at all near enough to the total harmony and serenity of complete surrender, of true union, with the Light of the Force to transform him into a being of pure, absolute Force energy - as his introduction to the curious, blazing electric entities who call themselves Force spirits would, soon enough, definitively prove - and yet which had, nonetheless, elevated him thoroughly (and essentially irreversibly, so long as he continued to hold fast to his love) above the bounds of existence as a being of mere material flesh. It was his awe at what his love had accomplished and the reassurances of the almost blindingly brilliant Force spirits that had given him hope, then, and kept him on the path from his old life, in the flesh, to a new life, as a Force spirit. However, it had almost broken Qui-Gon, when he had discovered that he had, in dying, lost his natural ties to Obi-Wan, and he had been utterly crushed to learn that, without a functional Master-Padawan bond acting as a safe conduit through the unbroken mazelike citadel of his Padawan's mental and emotional shields, he could no longer truly touch Obi-Wan's mind in any significant way.

Qui-Gon has always known that Obi-Wan Kenobi is quite strong in the Force, more than strong enough to maintain substantial and essentially impenetrable shields - for several years prior to the death of his body even harboring suspicions of his Padawan learner being far more powerful than Obi-Wan actually believes himself to be - having long been cognizant of the fact that the boy is, for lack of a better word, special, his connection to the Force different, in some ineffable and wholly elemental way, from that of any other Jedi or Force-sensitive or Force-adept Qui-Gon has ever known or heard tell of. Yet, it was not until he fell, on Naboo, and felt the Force fluctuating wildly about his furious and grieving Padawan, that Qui-Gon had begun to grasp just how powerful in the Force Obi-Wan could truly be, once removed of the restraints of his own iron control. And it was not until after the death of his physical body that he had been able to truly understand the extent of Obi-Wan's difference, having finally learned just how right his suspicions had been. Qui-Gon had been stunned, then, and wracked with guilt and regret for all of the time he had lost - no, selfishly squandered - with Obi-Wan when he could have been winning egress into Obi-Wan's mind and heart, by building a relationship of love and trust with him, but instead had vainly wasted both his time and energy in running away from the boy or turning aside from him by shutting him out of his life and closing his heart to him. The betrayal and loss of his first Padawan learner, Xanatos, might have hurt Qui-Gon badly, but in the end it had been glaringly obvious that it was his own reaction to that pain that brought about the most damage, the most lasting harm, and not only to him but to Obi-Wan, himself.

In making the decision to rescue Obi-Wan by bringing him to the Temple at Coruscant, Qui-Gon had taught the fragile young child to love, trust, and rely upon him, and these lessons were only reinforced by Qui-Gon's later choice to remain with the ill and badly battered toddler until the Healers were all satisfied as to his regained health. Afterwards, though, in deciding to leave Obi-Wan in the Temple, to be raised as just another anonymous youngling in the crèche, so that Qui-Gon could resume his temporarily suspended relationship with his own apprentice - his first Padawan learner, Xanatos - Qui-Gon's abandonment of the delicate young child had clumsily damaged both Obi-Wan's ability to trust and his sense of self-worth by inadvertently teaching him that he was unimportant, unworthy of Qui-Gon's extended time and attention. In response to this lesson, the boy had withdrawn a part of himself behind his first set of shields; as far as Qui-Gon can tell, Obi-Wan has apparently never again trusted himself fully enough to entirely dismantle those shields. To make matters worse, in deciding to cease all contact with the young boy after Xanatos fell to the Dark Side, Qui-Gon had hurt the boy so badly, by essentially behaving as though Obi-Wan no longer existed to him as a person, that the impressionable youngling had placed a part of himself, a part of his mind and heart, behind shields so thick and so powerful that no one had ever been able to win access within them, afterwards - not even Obi-Wan himself, who certainly has never, so far as Qui-Gon has ever known, seemed to recall either the extent of his relationship with Qui-Gon while Obi-Wan was still a youngling, or the extent of his hurt when Qui-Gon had abruptly severed that connection.

Worst of all, though, in initially denying not only the will of the Force but the true wish of his own heart, as well as the deepest hope of Obi-Wan's soul, by refusing to take Obi-Wan on as his Padawan learner, Qui-Gon had so badly warped the boy's self-image - especially what little had then been remaining of his natural sense of self-worth - and so completely refuted Obi-Wan's understanding of and connection to the Force and its will, so utterly destroyed his ability to trust in himself or in the providence of the Force, that his heart and mind had erected more and more and more layers of shielding around his mind and heart, in an effort to protect his wounded and torn spirit from any more disillusionment. By the time he had finally become Qui-Gon's Padawan, Obi-Wan's shields were unsurpassable by any living material being, no matter how strong in the Force, unless that person had first been invited within the bounds of those shields. Even then, a large part of Obi-Wan had always remained safely hidden, locked away behind his oldest and strongest shields, walls so impregnable that apparently not even Obi-Wan himself could access the memories and emotions contained within them. Qui-Gon has certainly never been able to catch even so much as a single glimpse of the contents protected by those formidable mental barriers and emotional blocks, even though their Master-Padawan bond did eventually stabilize and their relationship grew much closer, after the far too rocky and much delayed beginning of their time together, as a bonded Master-Padawan pair. And now it seems that it is too late for Qui-Gon to ever earn enough of Obi-Wan's trust to forge a faith between them great enough to successfully span those walls.

Now honestly believed to be dead by Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon no longer possesses the standing invitation of the Master-Padawan bond. Moreover, as just a mere Force ghost, unable to manifest himself fully within the physical realm, Qui-Gon is unable to gather enough strength to catch Obi-Wan's attention sufficiently to request permission of him to enter back into the kind of mental openness and emotional sharing conveyed by the closeness of a Master-Padawan bond or the bond that exists between partners in the Force. Frustrated and rebuffed by Obi-Wan's impregnable shields at every turn, Qui-Gon has more than once been painfully reminded of a conversation he once had with Master Yoda, soon after Obi-Wan had first become his Padawan learner. Qui-Gon had initially been stunned and dismayed to discover that, even once he had acknowledged and given into the reality of the bond that the Force had created between the two of them, even when he had opened himself up fully to trust and had, with the most infinite amount of care, won over enough of Obi-Wan's (far too fragile) faith and (far too brightly burning) love to convince the young teenager to allow Qui-Gon access within the many layers of shielding protecting Obi-Wan's mind and heart, he could not find within the boy even the faintest echo of the time they had spent together, previous to his initial refusal of Obi-Wan - not when Qui-Gon had first rescued Obi-Wan and brought him to the Temple at Coruscant; not when he had remained with the fragile and badly damaged toddler until he had been absolutely sure that the boy would be all right; and not even when he had gone back to his primary duty, as Xanatos' Master, and still tried to at least intermittently keep up with Obi-Wan's progress in the crèche, as a youngling - when Obi-Wan had neared the time of choosing and almost, because of Qui-Gon's folly, been lost to the Jedi Order forever, left to the Agri-Corps and Bandomeer.

Master Yoda had merely looked at Qui-Gon, sorrowfully, ears turned down, and quietly remarked, "A strong sense of duty, has Obi-Wan. Even stronger his sense of the Light is. But strongest of all are his shields. Integrity, he has in excess, but whole, he is not. Perhaps never will he be. My sorrow, this is. Heal him, I thought we could. Help him, I believe you can still. But to ask for what no longer is there, folly that would be. Gone, the past is. Dwell upon it, a Jedi does not. Learn this lesson far sooner and far better than most, Obi-Wan has. Nothing to be done about it, now. Accept, you must, and move on. Your Padawan he is. A worthy Master to him, you must be. Your only concern, this should be."

When he had first realized the true extent of his error - of his extremely long-reaching and multi-woven chain of piled upon and compounded, compounding mistakes - Qui-Gon had, initially, been sorely tempted to despair. His anger and self-loathing had been so great that it had threatened to unseat his purpose, especially in the days first following his "death" on Naboo, as Obi-Wan regained his momentarily shattered control and remained thereafter calm and coldly collected - and utterly untouchable by any thing or any person. Not even Master Yoda's pained disapproval over his stubborn insistence upon fulfilling his word to Qui-Gon and training Anakin as his own Padawan learner had been able to touch the newly Knighted Jedi. Not even Anakin's obvious anguish and self-blame for what had happened to Qui-Gon - for not being able to reach him, quickly enough, in the melting pit - had seemed to touch the young Jedi. Though Obi-Wan had turned and carefully slipped away from his Master's body, rising to his feet to catch Anakin when he came, half running and half falling, into the melting pit, staggering up to where the Jedi Master had fallen mere moments after the life had fled from Qui-Gon's body - and he had come to himself, confused and disoriented, hovering slightly above Obi-Wan and the cast-off shell of his body and unable, no matter how violently or desperately he tried, to touch his Padawan or to make him hear his cries - weeping brokenly even as he cradled the frantic and hysterical boy to him, sharing his grief and soothing him with his shared pain, just as soon as Anakin Skywalker had cried himself out and slipped into a state of exhaustion so total that the barest whisper of a Force-suggestion had been sufficient to send him into a profoundly deep slumber, Obi-Wan had collected himself, steeling himself until all emotion fled before his iron resolve, and calmly begun the process of dealing with Qui-Gon's death.

Obi-Wan had been distressingly dry-eyed and distant when three of the Naboo fighter pilots who had witnessed Anakin's destruction of the droid control ship and followed him to try to catch him when he landed, to thank and to congratulate him for his victory against the Trade Federation flagship, led Captain Panaka and Padmé - no, Queen Amidala - into the melting pit. And he had been even more icily formal and unforgivingly correct when he had hailed the Jedi Order and reported Qui-Gon's death - and the success of their mission to Naboo, including Obi-Wan's victory over the Sith warrior and the Sith's subsequent death - to the Jedi High Council, politely and coldly turning away from every attempt to share his grief and the very real sorrow of Masters Yoda - who had felt the death of his former protégé as it occurred and appeared to have aged visibly, as a result - and Mace Windu - who had felt the backwash within the Force from the passing of his good friend and whose red-rimmed eyes attested to the power of his grief. Obi-Wan's frozen resolve crumbled once, momentarily, under the unforgivingly gentle ministrations of Padmé Amidala, and Qui-Gon had felt as if his heart were being torn out of his chest. He had evidently been paying so little attention to his Padawan and the young Queen of Naboo that he hadn't even noticed that the two had become comfortable enough with one another for there to be enough trust between them to allow the young girl to comfort Obi-Wan in the face of such loss. He had honestly had no idea that Padmé Amidala felt so deeply, so passionately, about his Padawan, and yet the young woman obviously cared for Obi-Wan a great deal, so much so that she already understood enough about the way the young man's mind and heart worked to know just what to say to him to make him show his grief, to let him share that burden with her.

Qui-Gon's shame had scalded him then, for how else could he have not known of this, not known how Obi-Wan had grown to trust Padmé even while she had been falling ever more deeply in love with Obi-Wan, unless Qui-Gon had been neglecting both his duty, to the young Queen, as her protector, and his trust, both to the Jedi Order and to himself - not to mention his young Padawan - as Obi-Wan's Master? The lovely young Queen of Naboo truly was helplessly and wholeheartedly in love with Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Qui-Gon hadn't even noticed it. He never would have known it, either, if Padmé Amidala had not come to Obi-Wan with her heart in her eyes and all of the love that she was capable of feeling, with every fiber of her being and every beat of her strong young heart, gathered up trustingly into her open hands and presented to him, given to him, freely and unconditionally, as she offered him comfort for the loss of his Master. Qui-Gon had been sure that Obi-Wan would turn away from her, that he would have to do so, unable to accept the fullness of her gift as she would want him to. How could he not know it? He had made a fool of himself, several years previously, trying to warn Obi-Wan away from the confusion and temptation of too close a friendship with one of the boy's agemates, Padawan learner Siri Tachi, with whom Obi-Wan seemed in danger of repeating the mistake Qui-Gon had almost fallen into with Knight Tahl. It was only then that Obi-Wan had finally told his Master, with much stammering and several blushes, of the decision he had made, while still a youngling in the crèche, to remain entirely chaste and so avoid the potential pitfalls of too much affection, too great an attachment, to any one being, and the steps he had taken to ensure that he remained true to that choice.

Yet, in spite of what Qui-Gon had expected, Obi-Wan had let Padmé come into his room and listened to her, listened to her and heard her words, clearly enough to weep and to be all the stronger for those tears, not only allowing her to hold him, passively, when he wept, but clinging to her, holding her in return, sharing as much of himself, of his heart and his thoughts, with her as he could. Obi-Wan had even allowed her to lead him to the bed and help prepare him for rest, only turning away when it became obvious that she wished to join him there. Qui-Gon had been stunned. He had never known Obi-Wan to trust another sentient being enough to share so much of himself. The young man had allowed himself to be entirely vulnerable before Padmé Amidala that night. Yet, even more surprisingly, even more worrisomely, after all of that Obi-Wan's heart had hardened and he had become colder and even more distant than ever, apparently entirely untouched and untouchable by Padmé Amidala's deep sorrow, the Council's distress, and even Anakin Skywalker's obvious grief, fear, and guilt over the loss of Qui-Gon. He was unflinching, in his claim of Anakin, and his hands were gentle, when he eventually cut the boy's hair and began his Padawan braid for him; yet, as the young Queen of Naboo and her people - including the irrepressible Gungans - celebrated the liberation of their planet and honored those who had helped them win that freedom, and the Jedi Order and the Republic both adjusted to the changes brought about by that liberation - including both the initial need for it and the losses entailed by it - Obi-Wan had remained politely formal and distant from everyone, even Anakin.

Reeling from the newfound knowledge of the true nature and danger of the surviving Sith Lord and terrified that he had once again chosen wrongly, in his insistence that Obi-Wan and Anakin remain together and become a bonded Master-Padawan pair, Qui-Gon had torn himself away from the Force spirits who had found their way to his side and their attempts both to learn from him and to reassure him with their own knowledge, struggling endlessly (though in vain) to reach his former Padawan, to warn him against the monster who smiled so sympathetically as he shook his hand and bowed, deeply, seemingly profoundly respectful, to show his thanks for Obi-Wan's part in the liberation of Naboo, and to try to open Obi-Wan's eyes and heart to the reality of Anakin's need for him - and Obi-Wan's own need for the stabilizing influence of the young boy's unshakeable love for him. In the end, despite Qui-Gon's inability to reach him, Obi-Wan had, once again, proven stronger than any would have ever suspected. Their first night back on Coruscant, Obi-Wan's icy facade had cracked, in the face of Anakin's desperate need, and he had, forever afterwards, been the most devoted and wise not only of Masters but of actual true friends for the confused young boy. Thus, even in the midst of his own pain, Obi-Wan did not draw back from life or from the Light. He did not merely fulfill his duty by way of his promise and the will of the Force. He took Anakin into his life and his heart and he made that boy the whole of his world, championing him against any and every challenge that came their way, even from those who should have been fighting to protect and defend them. Soon enough, Obi-Wan and Anakin were so close that the strength of their bond and the intimacy of their relationship became legendary the breadth and depth of the Republic over, the glory of their partnership even reaching far beyond the boundaries of the allied territories into the reaches of unknown space.

Obi-Wan's bravery and his devotion made Qui-Gon feel so thoroughly ashamed of the Jedi Order and the High Council and so completely proud of his former Padawan and his former young charge - as Anakin Skywalker, despite every disadvantage and every wrong shown him and thrown his way by first the Temple and then seemingly also the galaxy at large, stretched and grew and learned and throve, in the unfailing light of Obi-Wan's love - that Qui-Gon had, in the end, had no choice but to put an end to his futile and heartbreaking efforts to make Obi-Wan hear him and instead turn his time and energy towards alternative means and ends. However, the struggle to divorce himself enough from his worries and his guilt to fully commit himself to his unorthodox but necessary apprenticeship to the Force spirit Shamans of the Whills has been a much longer and more difficult trial. Qui-Gon is not nearly so strong as his former apprentice, nor even as brave as his apprentice's own former Padawan learner, who has staunchly refused to leave his Master and beloved Force-partner, even though the Council has declared him a Jedi Knight. Qui-Gon knows what it is that he must do, and yet his heart quails, flinching away from the necessity of turning aside from the ones he loves, however momentarily, in order to better serve them by devoting the whole of his being to his learning, to advancing from subsisting as a Force ghost to existing an actual Force spirit, crying out against the inevitability of change and hesitating, in his precarious position, halfway between one life and the next.

He cannot remain as he is forever. It simply is not possible. While it is true that there are several different possibilities, in between life as a mere material being and existence as a being of pure Force energy, unless Qui-Gon wishes to eventually pass on into the Force, as most souls do upon the deaths of their fleshly bodies, he must transform himself into a Force spirit, if not exactly like the other Force spirits then enough like them that he will still be an unbodied avatar and manifestation of the unadulterated power of the Force. Change is inevitable. And Qui-Gon needs to be a Force spirit, not just a Force ghost, if he want to be able to protect Obi-Wan and help save Anakin from falling. He knows that, just as surely as he knows that his own pitifully limited access to the power of the Force, as a Force ghost, will not be enough to save Dooku from the trap that he has tumbled into. The barriers of time have all dissolved: as a Force ghost, past and present and myriad futures lie open before him, and he knows how to pick out a single strand from among the many different possible courses of the probable futures and then follow it, living within it, until it has become reality, passing over into the ever-changing flow of the now. More importantly, though, Qui-Gon can see well enough to know that he is going to have no choice but to change, to grow, if he truly desires to help, to help steer events away from the darkness and evil that is the Sith Lord Sidious' triumph over both the Jedi Order and the Galactic Republic. Unfortunately, it is one thing entirely, to know something in his mind, and another thing all together, to accept it in his heart.

It is wrong of him, it is weak and it is harmful, not only to himself but to the future of the ones he loves, to the existence of the very ones he is supposed to be protecting, and yet . . . to turn away from them now, just as they are all about to enter into so much danger, to focus solely on himself, seems selfish, somehow, even though he knows, logically, that it is for the best, that it will enable him to help them, to protect them, more and better than he can, now. Seeing Obi-Wan and Anakin as they are now, wrapped so closely in one another's arms and blanketed so securely in each other's love that it seems wholly impossible that any combination of persuasion or power or circumstances or beings could ever conspire to separate them, one from the other, comforts him and calms him. It gives Qui-Gon strength and reassures him that he is, after all, finally making the correct choice and doing the right thing. So he burnishes and strengthens his own inner light, his own love, with the radiance and power of Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker's twinned love, their twinned light. And in gaining steadiness from their strength, he learns and relearns hope, and self-forgiveness, and patience, and preservation, and trust, and a determination and devotion so utter that they are an unshakeable faith, an unwavering love, in the light of those who create and thrive in such love and the greater Light that blesses them. To others, perhaps, it might seem like little enough, but to the Force ghost of Qui-Gon Jinn it is the one thing, the only thing, that could ever hope to be enough. Love, like life, like light, like the Light itself, is the cradle and the progenitor and the lifeblood of hope, and with hope, all things are possible. Even the impossible becomes no more than just another task, another obstacle, that must eventually give way and fall before the combined might of that unbounded love, that light.

In any case, until the Force ghost finally learns, one way or another, how to join his own love and light fully to the power and the Light of the Force, that love, and that hope, is all that he has. Until then, it will simply have to be enough to light his path and keep him on the way he has chosen, because there is, quite frankly, no other way for Qui-Gon to go from here but onwards.

The choice has already been made. He made the choice himself, when he had accepted his love and yet refused to perish when his body died. All that has passed, since then, has merely been a deferment of the inevitable. His very existence is proof of the choice he has made. Now, all he must do is quite delaying and give in to the unavoidable outcome of that choice, that love.

Holding fast to his love, bathed in the reflected glow of the doubled and redoubled light of Obi-Wan and Anakin's love and strengthened and steadied immensely by that light, the Force ghost of Qui-Gon Jinn pulls hope in close about him like the warm folds of a mantle, lets go of everything that has been holding him back . . . and determinedly takes that next step forward.

***