Chapter Twenty
Qui-Gon

The temple chambers are bathed in the soft glow of twilight, the air thick with the scent of incense and the quiet hum of distant chants. The marble floors beneath my feet are cool, a stark contrast to the warmth of the sun's last rays that spill through the tall, arched windows, painting the room in hues of amber and gold. As I stand there, the silence is profound, broken only by the gentle rustle of robes as Obi-Wan approaches. His presence is a comforting reminder of the past, of lessons learned and battles fought side by side. His eyes, wise beyond his years, meet mine with a mixture of respect and affection. "Master," he replies, his voice steady yet filled with a hint of nostalgia. "It's good to see you again." The words hang in the air, a testament to the enduring connection between us, forged through trials and triumphs. In this sacred space, amidst the shadows and the fading light, we are more than just teacher and student; we are kindred spirits, bound by the force and the shared path we have walked.

I extend my hand toward him, feeling the coolness of the evening air against my skin as Obi-Wan's fingers meet mine. His grip is firm yet hesitant, a subtle indication of the emotions swirling beneath his composed exterior. As I gently pull him into my embrace, the fabric of our robes rustles softly, a comforting sound that echoes the familiarity of our bond. "How is the queen?" I inquire, my voice a blend of curiosity and concern, watching intently as his shoulders tense ever so slightly, a fleeting but telling sign of the depth of his feelings.

His response is halting, "She's... she's fine, Master," the words escaping him with an uncharacteristic tremor, betraying the calm facade he usually maintains. I can't help but smile knowingly, the corners of my lips curling upwards as I sense the undercurrents of something unspoken. It's a delicate dance, this probing of emotions, and though I choose not to press further, there's a satisfaction in knowing I've touched upon a truth.

I lean back slightly, my gaze fixed on Obi-Wan's face, where a faint blush begins to bloom across his cheeks. "You like her, do you not?" I tease, my tone light yet probing, as the color deepens, spreading like a sunrise over his features. His flustered denial, "What? No, Master, not like that anyway," is accompanied by a mix of surprise and embarrassment, an endearing sight that warms my heart. Despite his protestations, the truth lingers in the air between us, unspoken yet palpable, a testament to the complexities of his heart.

I chuckle softly, the sound echoing gently in the quiet chamber, and reach out to give Obi-Wan a playful pat on the head. His hair is slightly tousled under my touch, a gesture of affection that brings a hint of color to his cheeks. "Don't worry, Obi-Wan, I won't tell anyone. I'm not mad," I assure him, my voice warm and reassuring, a smile spreading across my face like the first light of dawn. "I understand. It's against the Code to allow ourselves to form attachments, but sometimes we can't help ourselves, no matter how hard we train."

As I step back, the cool marble floor feels solid beneath my feet, and I clasp my hands behind my back, adopting a more formal stance. "Come on then; we might as well take a walk. You can tell me all about her," I suggest, my tone light and inviting. I notice the flicker of hesitation in his eyes, a momentary pause as he weighs his words, but there's also a spark of excitement, a glimmer of eagerness that hints at the stories he holds within. The prospect of sharing them seems to lighten his spirit, and together, we turn to leave the chamber, the promise of conversation guiding our steps.

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I sit on the cool stone steps, the ancient architecture of the temple surrounding us, providing a serene backdrop to our conversation. Beside me, Obi-Wan sits, his posture slightly slumped, a clear indication of the turmoil within him. His brow is deeply furrowed, casting shadows over his eyes as he speaks with a voice tinged with frustration and confusion. "I just can't get her out of my head, Master. It's always been like that; I don't know why." His words are punctuated by a heavy sigh, and he rubs his face with his hands, a familiar gesture that speaks volumes of his inner conflict.

I watch him with a gentle smile, my heart filled with understanding and empathy. "You'll be fine, Obi-Wan. It's only natural to feel this way," I reassure him, my voice calm and soothing, allowing my words to linger in the air, offering comfort. After a moment, I add with a hint of amusement, "And now I hear Anakin likes her too. Well, that was bound to happen." The statement hangs between us, a shared acknowledgment of the complexities of emotions and the inevitable entanglements of the heart.

I rise to my feet, extending a hand to my former Padawan, the gesture both an invitation and a silent promise of support. "Let's head back to the quarters; I'm starting to feel tired," I say, my voice carrying the subtle weariness of the day's emotional journey. Obi-Wan nods, his expression a mix of understanding and shared fatigue, and together we step into the temple, the ancient stones echoing softly beneath our feet. The weight of our thoughts lingers in the air between us, a palpable presence that neither of us can ignore.

The queen of Lothal occupies both our minds, her image a vivid beacon amidst the shadows of our duties and emotions. Her presence is like a bright light, illuminating the path we walk, yet casting long shadows that hint at the complexities of our intertwined fates. As we navigate the familiar halls, the flickering torches casting dancing shadows on the walls, I find myself pondering the challenges that lay ahead. For Obi-Wan, the feelings he harbors are a new frontier, one that the Force seems to weave into the tapestry of our destinies. The Force guides our steps, an unseen hand shaping our journey, intertwining our lives with hers in ways we have yet to fully comprehend.