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An associate of his in the Halls of Healing would have some very stern words with Obi-Wan should they find out that, among his immediate responses, was the defense of another. Some of those words would be positive, and no doubt he’d hear another empty commendation about his blasted ‘talents’ in the Force. The negative words would be much longer. Fortunately he was used to them, all iterations on the importance of self defense, the benefits of moderation in sacrifice, and the importance of dodging. More fortunately, he was very unlikely to speak to the healers about the molten river his mind was channelling as his Master’s consciousness dispersed into the living Force.

Qui-Gon did not pass silently, for all his body lay gracefully in the last moments of life firing in the spaces between cells. Radiating in the spaces between atoms around them, and blazing through all of Obi-Wan’s senses like staring at twin suns.

Kneeling in the shell of the power generator, forehead pressed to Qui-Gon’s lifeless temple, his own grief was loud but no louder than the burning wind that was all Qui-Gon had said to him in the last few days, and all that had been on his mind since that meditation between the shields. Straining, Obi-Wan absorbed into himself nearly all of Qui-Gon’s last push of emotion to young Anakin, in addition to what coursed through the mature training bond he had shared with his Master.

Seeds of plans, and the memory of himself from another view and memories of the boy from another view, and it was almost too much.

Almost.

Along with his grief, and pain, and fear, Obi-Wan released much of what remained into the Force. He had collected nearly all of the psychic runoff, and while he couldn’t shield Anakin completely, it was at least something.

Anakin.

Obi-Wan’s eyes flew open, and with a twinge of his stomach he moved past the still burning etching of Qui-Gon’s fingers against his cheek, he reached out for the boy.

He seemed unharmed, and perhaps unaware of Qui-Gon’s passing, meaning that Obi-Wan had succeeded more than he’d feared. However, it was entirely too easy to find the boy in the Force, and Obi-Wan hoped against hope that was a lingering side effect of Jinn’s death heightening his own Force-sense.

It was not.

While speaking with Master Yoda, Anakin’s anxieties and fears coursed through Obi-Wan, unlike his own but decidedly present. The thread of a bond established in that wretched cave had persisted, and in his carelessness when shielding Qui-Gon’s last moments, it had solidified. Lacking the proper ritual it didn’t shape into a training bond, and so it held no particular shape, simply a thread spun with more fibers into a length of cord.

“Your apprentice, young Skywalker will be.”

Yoda’s posture was always easier to read for Obi-Wan than for his crechemates. The Grandmaster was tired, and grieving in his own manner. Obi-Wan would not confess that he, too, was worried about training the boy. He already had, in distancing the faith he placed in him. Yoda, however, seemed to accept this, and did not challenge Obi-Wan’s present preoccupation.

Obi-Wan did not follow Yoda from the turret room immediately, instead looking to the skyline of Theed. No one would doubt him, if he claimed the bond already settling between himself and Anakin was the customary training bond. Obi-Wan himself might even choose to believe it given the option. He was not given the option, and would not give it to himself; instead he quashed the feeling of unease and worry that rose up when he questioned how the binding came to be as well. That he would not lie to himself did not mean he would fully accept it either.

It would be a long, long evening.

First lesson, my young apprentice. Obi-Wan’s voice was quiet in Anakin’s senses, but still clearly audible through the jubilations around them. The Gungan trumpetting was not quiet in the slightest. Anakin’s new haircut itched. Anakin’s new braid itched. Anakin’s newly fitted Jedi tunics itched.

First lesson, Obi-Wan repeated. Shields.

His mind filled with images from the Gungan armory, of purple energy shields. Of the blue droideka fields. Of blast doors, of impenetrable barriers keeping sand out and air in.

Yes, like those. Now watch.

Anakin blinked. Of course he was watching? There was a parade in front of him, and beside him Obi-Wan was standing very properly and Anakin was doing his best not to slouch—

Close. In here. This time Obi-Wan’s voice faded into something very close to a door, in that part of his mind where Anakin would feel dangers and blows an instant before they fell. Squinting his eyes against the sun without and the sounds within, Anakin thought very hard about touching the door. And so he did.

Good.

And Anakin was looking both at the parade, and at a bright light gently encased in a curtain of brown linens beside him.

“What’s this?”

Your first lesson. Watch.

That glowing light that was also Obi-Wan but mostly a light dimmed and shone in a pulse. It became dim enough to nearly vanish and Anakin felt his heart speed up in fear he couldn’t identify—and then strengthen back to how strong he had first seen it, and then bright, too bright, too bright toobright—and then back down to that manageable glow.

“What was that,” Anakin gasped, and quickly stood straighter as the rest of the delegation around them turned to look at him. Obi-Wan smiled gently to their fellows, and then to Anakin, projecting that sense of Jedi peace without placing it in to anybody’s head.

Shields, Obi-Wan sent, helpfully. What we are looking at right now, together, is one of the many ways of seeing the Force. I am speaking to you through the Force, through our two minds, and I have just shown you what it looks like when I strengthen and relax my shields.

Unsure how to respond, Anakin nodded very slightly.

In his mind he saw that same door appear again, and without thinking he reached for it again.

Like this? Anakin tried, looking to Obi-Wan instead of the parade. One of Obi-Wan’s eyebrows twitched, and Anakin tried not to react.

Close. A little quieter, please. Try again.

Anakin touched the door very, very gently. How about now?

Obi-Wan nodded. Much better. Now, look again.

This time, instead of seeing Obi-Wan and the parade, he still saw the parade but also himself. He, too, shone too brightly to look at for very long. Squinting again at the light, Anakin thought of the light getting dimmer in much the same way he thought of touching the door. The light did not get dimmer, it in fact got brighter, and he got the sense of Obi-Wan laughing at him.

No, not at you. It is a common first result—one that you achieved very quickly. I’m impressed.

Anakin blinked.

What did I do? he whispered the same way again.

You tried to make yourself… less bright, I would say?

You didn’t see?

Not the way you do, Obi-Wan’s mental voice was gentle. Another time I will show you how it feels to me. But you were trying to make yourself less bright?

Yes, sir.

Please don’t.

Anakin blinked. Don’t… try to make a shield?

If Obi-Wan were having this conversation aloud he might rub his temples.

No, apologies. Please don’t call me ‘sir’. Please do try for a shield again.

Anakin was very confused, but reached for the light again. Again it got brighter.

What am I doing wrong?

Anakin felt something cool and smooth glide in through a second door, a door it seemed like Obi-Wan’s voice was coming from. His nerves on edge, he waited for that disgustingly familiar feeling to do something, but instead it simply waited.

May I show you?

Obi-Wan’s voice came from that something, and through the door. Anakin nodded, transfixed but also very scared. The something slid around him, and it was all Anakin could do to keep breathing. Abruptly, the something retreated.

Anakin?

He couldn’t respond.

Anakin.

He looked to Obi-Wan’s face, still nearly blank, but saw no anger. I…I’m okay, I think. That was. Bad.

I am sorry, Anakin, it didn’t occur to me that it would feel the same as—that it would feel like anything, really. I have been speaking through the Force with others for so long, I’ve forgotten what it means for it to be new, as well. Let’s try something else. Anakin felt an idea waft gently from that second door, the idea of pressing it shut. Anakin did so, and while he couldn’t feel it with his hands he could still feel the half click as the latch didn’t quite engage but was still activated.

Did I do it?

Obi-Wan knocked on the door Anakin had just closed, and sheepishly Anakin willed it to open again.

Yes, Anakin. Good job. That was your very first shield.

Remembering he was to become a Jedi, now, Anakin kept his face as stern and bored as he could, seeing the next quadrant of the parade make its way through the courtyard gates. Internally he was ecstatic. He had made a shield, and done it himself, and it had worked! He had done something in the Force, on purpose, and it had worked.

The door that led to Obi-Wan seemed pleased, too, and Anakin frowned.

Master Obi-Wan?

There was a pause long enough that Anakin had to check if he was still holding the door shut before he got a response.

Yes, Anakin?

Why did you show me that without making me do something first?

In what Anakin was coming to understand was the Force, he saw the bright light that was Obi-Wan warp and twist as something dark twisted through it. It wasn’t a darkness from within, it wasn’t cruel, it was sad. It was pain, and a sense that Anakin was very familiar with, though he had no name for it: when a new customer walked into Watto’s shop and mistook Anakin for an employee instead of property.

Obi-Wan? Anakin was not able to keep the concern from his face as he looked up at him. Physically Obi-Wan continued to look undisturbed, but the door between them was shaking with that feeling.

We will not be doing that.

Obi-Wan’s voice was cold.

Oh. But Master Qui-Gon said… uh… Anakin floundered. He could sort-of recall what Qui-Gon had said when they were safely on board the Naboo ship, but mostly it was coated in something foggy. He could remember himself saying things, things he’d thought of to say before saying them, but couldn’t pinpoint why they’d left his mouth.

Qui-Gon said a lot of things.

Anakin was suddenly very aware of the door between them, and how after a moment of green lichens, unhewn stone, and waterfall mist it slammed shut and dimmed. And how there was a lingering fog around it not unlike Anakin’s memories of that first lesson with Qui-Gon Jinn.

Anakin wanted to ask a lot of things. He wanted to ask where the doors had come from, and why there were two-no-three-no-two. He wanted to ask why Obi-Wan was feeling something with no word in Basic, Huttese, or slave’s cant. He wanted to know what he was doing wrong, even if it didn’t seem like Obi-Wan would punish him for it. Instead he waited.

The parade had marched enough that if Anakin squinted he could see the Gungan boss approaching at the end of the boulevard by the time Obi-Wan reappeared to him in the Force and the door wasn’t so sad and dim.

Obi-Wan? Anakin asked, voice very small and quiet like Obi-Wan had just shown him.

My apologies, Anakin. I did not prepare for my feelings before we started. I should be alright now. Obi-Wan’s physical body still didn’t show any changes, but Anakin supposed maybe that came with being a Jedi, eventually. I do not know what my Master was thinking, Anakin could taste the lie, but before he could say anything, Obi-Wan corrected himself. I wish I didn’t know what my Master was thinking, or why he behaved the way he did, but Anakin, I assure you that will not happen again.

For a moment, and just a moment, the feeling of that cave in the swamps flashed in front of him. It was gone as soon as he had seen it, but Anakin knew what Obi-Wan had meant to convey. What Anakin didn’t know were words for the emotions he felt flood through him from his own response to it. ‘It’ not being the sex, but rather that change, where one moment he had just been Anakin and the next there was More, and if he squinted just right it felt like that’s where the second and third door had appeared. One of them, in the cave, had been strong and loud and said nothing, and the other he hadn’t noticed but could now know with certainty had been there as well. Quiet. Faded. And that it was that second door that Obi-Wan was through in the present.

One of the emotions was probably fear, and he quickly stamped his mental feet all over it like a surprise insect on the floor of one’s home, before it could go anywhere.

Good job, Anakin. That was a very strong second shield.

Anakin blinked, confused.

You were very firm about it, and perhaps more forceful than you needed to be, but you effectively prevented an emotion you didn’t want emanating into the Force—or throughout your mind—from developing any further or farther. Good job, he repeated.

Oh. Uh, thanks. I think.

Now that Anakin was aware of it, he glanced toward that larger, scarier door. Rather, he tried to, because where he looked for it instead he found a pile of dust and ash, red sand each grain of which contained a little piece of that detestable fog and pain and cold, cold heat.

Obi-Wan?

Yes, Anakin?

What are the doors?

What are the doors?

Obi-Wan watched the parade for a moment, before turning his eye inward and outward at once to follow the very, very solid young bond between himself and the boy. He saw Anakin’s Force presence, and he saw the tie between them, and he saw the remains of what Qui-Gon had molded intentionally that awful afternoon.

They are, I believe, and Obi-Wan hedged this with care, how your mind has interpreted bonds in the Force. The way I am speaking to you now, and you with me.

He felt Anakin reach out as one along their bond, and toward the rubble from Qui-Gon’s death. It seemed that despite his best efforts, for which he might still be getting an earful from the healers, hadn’t severed cleanly or begun to fade. Visibly Anakin winced upon disturbing the wreck.

Was that one Master Qui-Gon?

Obi-Wan didn’t need to be enmeshed with the boy’s mind to know Anakin had tried to perceive more clearly his link to their dead Master.

Yes. It is also an excellent place to try another shield. He watched as Anakin’s Force signature pulsed with life and power, and the severed bond flared brightly and then dimmed. It was still there, and the shield did not match Obi-Wan’s own over his own former link, but it was a commendable effort. Immediately, Anakin’s presence lightened, and Obi-Wan relaxed some of the shield he had thrown up between the two of them.

Like that?

Yes, Anakin. Thank you, you did well.