Obi-Wan woke, disoriented. The smells were familiar, but distant in his memory, and he couldn't place them. He remembered what had happened, the beatings, hearing his ribs crack, being hoisted up, having to use his strength and the Force just to keep breathing. "If you're still alive in two days, you'll wish you weren't," an ominous voice had said with a sneer. "And you'll tell us where the girl is." Then there was a strange, vague dream of being let down by someone in silence, catching sight of a green lightsaber below his feet, feeling the Force around him. Slowly, so slowly, he made his eyes open, trying to figure out where he was, wincing at the pain he could still feel. He definitely wasn't on the slaver's ship. No chains.
The first thing he saw when his eyes finally opened was Yoda. The Jedi Master sat in his float chair next to the medical couch, watching him with serious eyes.
"Good to see that awake you are," Yoda said, and Obi-Wan's heart lurched. Then he groaned softly. How had he wound up here? Oh, wait... Green lightsaber. Not a dream, a memory. Did Qui-Gon know he was here, too?
"Hello, Master Yoda," he managed finally.
"Hello, Obi-Wan," the diminutive being said gently. "Worried your Master is. Wrong it is of you to make him so."
"Yes, Master." What else was there to say? He shouldn't be worried, he should be relieved... He forced his thoughts from his old life and back to the new one. "Is Regina safe?"
"Here she is, and her family." Yoda's ears dipped and his eyes narrowed. "How feel you?"
"Very sore," Obi-Wan answered. His shoulders ached, and his chest hurt. At least the stabbing pains were gone.
"Save the girl's life you did," Yoda said. "Well done that was. Want to see you, she will. Now, sleep you must."
Before he could ask what Yoda meant, the Council member's light compulsion slipped him quietly into a Healing trance.
The next time he woke, he was alone. The pain in his shoulders had ebbed, and he felt well enough to reach to his bedside table to find his staff. Its presence, in the absence of his probably destroyed lightsaber, was comforting.
"Worried your Master is." Yoda's words echoed in his head. But surely Qui-Gon had told them that his Padawan had tried to kill him? He turned his attention inward, to the walled-off training bond. Carefully, cautiously, he began to remove the wall, pulling it down little by little. He didn't want Qui-Gon distracted if he was in the middle of an important mission, but he would give his Master the chance to formally repudiate him. It was only right. At the thought, he shuddered and huddled up, not wishing to go through that again. After a moment, he straightened himself out, lying flat on the medical couch. It would not be as bad, he tried to convince himself. At least this time it was because of some action he took and not because his Master wanted to destroy him. And the guilt would not be as crushing, since the bombs were no longer in his head.
He turned his attention to the rest of his body to distract himself. It was recovering. In fact, he felt pretty good. He knew better than to get up, however. Facing the wrath of the Healers - Theela, in particular - had been bad the first time. He didn't want to know what would happen to a second-time recalcitrant patient.
Two days later, two days of much needed sleep and rest, the summons came. He was allowed to clean up and they gave him an outfit of the Ambassador's livery. He felt much better as he dressed with the healer's help and bound his hair up, tucking his braid out of sight. For all he knew, they knew he still had it, but he was not going to let them see it if he could help it. Last of all, he hung the staff on his belt. Not quite the same as a lightsaber, to be sure, but the weight was as comforting as it had been when he'd first gotten it.
He accepted the guide to the Council chambers. The dark blue livery was going to set him apart, but the other Jedi might not notice if he were guided; a stranger obviously not of the Temple going somewhere on his own was likely to cause talk. He wanted to be invisible. The girl was nervous but he could not ease her. He was nervous himself. Before long, she stopped and gestured that he continue. As he approached, the outer doors opened, revealing the guardian.
"You have been summoned?" she asked.
"Yes," he said, and was somewhat surprised to hear that his voice was steady. "Bennet Kenobi." He started when he realized he hadn't given her his real name. "I - I mean, Obi-Wan Kenobi."
She bestowed on him a gentle smile. "Follow me, please."
He did, stepping through the inner doors when they opened and she gestured him through. He walked to the center of the chamber, glad of the comforting weight of his blue cloak, and bowed to Mace and Yoda. "I have been summoned," he said.
"Summoned you have been, to answer for all that you have done," Yoda told him. "Many questions we have."
"I will answer as best I can," he said.
Questions came from every part of the room, covering his stay in the Monastery and what he'd done before and after. He turned to face each of the questioners, and as the sun moved slowly from window to window he began to grow weary, and pulled on the Force to keep himself steady.
"Why did you leave?" Mace asked, and Obi-Wan turned wearily to face him.
"I could not bear to... I couldn't stay," he said, wondering if they knew how exhausted he was, and wondering faintly if they even cared. Then he realized that he'd had absolutely no reason to leave; it had been an unthinking panic that had sent him running from the training room and the Temple.
"Why?"
Obi-Wan blinked, caught off guard. "I'm sorry. I do not understand the question."
"Why could you not stay?"
He paused, startled. "I... I don't know." His eyes dropped to the floor, and he waited for the next question.
To his surprise, it wasn't a question. "Unbind your hair," Mace said.
Obi-Wan looked up, stupid with fatigue. "Sorry?" he asked.
"Unbind your hair," came the repeated order.
Wearily, not understanding, he reached up to release his hair. His hands were batted out of the way. Someone else pulled the tie from his hair and ran thick fingers through it to straighten it. To his dismay, that dislodged his carefully hidden braid and it fell down his back, reaching halfway to his waist. If that wasn't bad enough, the braid was moved to fall down his chest, and a familiar weight rested on his shoulder.
"Ah," Yoda said. "Welcome back, Master Qui-Gon."
Obi-Wan took an unsteady step away from the hand on his shoulder, turning to face his Master in surprise.
"It is good to see you again, Padawan," Qui-Gon said gently.
Obi-Wan could say nothing. His mind spun, sluggish, dazed, and to his surprise and relief, everything started to dim. A firm arm across his back stopped his descent to the floor, but not the descent into darkness.
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