"I know I tried my best to save him," Obi-Wan said. "But my heart is still heavy."
"That is how it should be," Bant said. "A life is lost. When he still had life, he had a chance to change."
"Bant, I am so sorry for — " Obi-Wan began in a rush.
"Don't," Bant interrupted softly. "There's no need to apologize. You saved my life, you know."
"There is a need," Obi-Wan said firmly. "There is a great need." He stared down at his hands in his lap. "I spoke out of anger and jealousy. What I felt mattered to me more than your feelings."
"You were worried about your future," Bant said. "You are afraid of losing Qui-Gon."
Obi-Wan sighed. He stared out at the sapphire pool. "I thought I could return to the Temple and everything would be as it was. The Council would excuse me and welcome me back. Qui-Gon would come around. But I am the one to come around. I see now that what I did cannot be fixed so easily. It may never be fixed. I see what I've done to myself, to the Master-Padawan relationship. This is why a Jedi waits so long and is so careful about choosing a Padawan. So much trust is involved. I ask myself, if Qui-Gon had rejected me, set me loose after I pledged my life to his, how would I feel?
Yes, I would forgive him, but could I join him again? Could I deliver all my trust to him again?" He met Bant's eyes, feeling desolation well inside him.
"I don't know the answer," he finished. "How can I expect Qui-Gon to know?"
"I think you could trust him again," Bant said slowly. "And I think Qui-Gon will do the same. All of this just happened. You haven't had time to sit down and think, let alone talk to each other. You've been through so much. There are things that happened on Melida/Daan you won't tell me." She paused delicately. "When you are ready, I would like to hear them."
Obi-Wan took a shuddering breath. He could not say her name aloud. But somehow he knew he must. He knew that if this moment passed, he might never speak of her again to a living soul, and something in him would die.
"Her name was Cerasi," he said. He felt a great tide of sorrow rise in him. But he also felt a release by saying her name. "Cerasi," he said again.
He lifted his face and felt the cooling spray. Suddenly, he felt stronger, as though Cerasi's vibrant spirit stood by him and touched his shoulder. "We had a connection that I can't explain. It wasn't the result of time, of hours spent together. It wasn't the result of secrets or confidences. It was something else."
"You loved her," Bant said.
Obi-Wan swallowed. "Yes. She inspired me. We fought together side by side. We trusted each other. And when she died, I blamed myself. When I thought that you might die, I knew I could not go on if it happened."
"But you would have, Obi-Wan," Bant said softly. "We all go on." She leaned against him, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "You saved my life. We will go on together."
Qui-Gon sat in Tahl's quarters. They had been silent for some time.
TooJay had been sent for reprogramming. For once, Qui-Gon would have welcomed her musical chatter.
"You are to meet the Council soon," Tahl said at last. "If you decide to take Obi-Wan back as your Padawan, it will help him. The Council would most likely allow him to come back."
"I know," Qui-Gon said.
"Especially considering all he has done," Tahl added.
"I am well aware of all he has done."
Tahl sighed. "You are a stubborn man, Qui-Gon."
"No," Qui-Gon protested. "Not stubborn. Cautious. I must be sure, Tahl.
What if taking Obi-Wan back is not fair to the boy, or to the Jedi? If I cannot give Obi-Wan my trust, our Master-Padawan bond will eventually break."
"And you feel you cannot rebuild that trust?" Tahl asked.
Qui-Gon looked down at his hands in his lap. "It is my flaw, I know."
Another silence stretched between them. Then Tahl picked up her cup and ran her fingers around the smooth surface. She held it up to the light she could not see.
"This is a beautiful cup," she said. "I know this even though I can't see it. I can feel it."
It was beautiful, Qui-Gon saw. The material was so thin it was almost translucent, the color a blue so pale it was almost white. The shape was simple, with no handle or curved rim.
"I use it even though I may break it," she said. She placed it down carefully. "Have you ever heard of the planet Aurea?"
"Of course," Qui-Gon said. "Aurea is noted for its fine artisans."
"They have the best glass workers in the galaxy there," Tahl went on.
"Many have wondered why this world has advanced the art so much. Is it the golden sands, the temperature of the fires, the long tradition? Whatever it may be, they make the most beautiful vessels in the galaxy, so highly prized that they are priceless objects. But occasionally, someone is careless, or an accident occurs, and one is broken."
Tahl picked up her cup again. "Just like I could break this cup. But these artisans have a greater art than the fashioning of the vessels. They remake the shattered ones. And in that remaking they find their highest art.
They take the pieces of something beautiful that has been smashed and create something even more beautiful. You see the seams of the break, but the piece is still flawless. Because it had once been broken, it becomes more valuable than before."
Tahl placed the blue cup before Qui-Gon. The Jedi sat in silence, absorbing the lesson. Could it be, he wondered slowly, that the process of rebuilding his trust with Obi-Wan would not be painful, but satisfying?
He picked up the delicate cup. It almost disappeared in his large hand.
His fingers closed around the fragile shape, yet the cup did not break.
He could not make again what he'd had. But what if the new thing he made was stronger than before, because it had once been broken?
Qui-Gon stood before the Jedi Council with Obi-Wan by his side. They had finished their debriefing on the episode with Xanatos.
Obi-Wan noted Qui-Gon's frown with dismay. He sensed the roiling unrest in his former Master.
Obi-Wan himself had reason to feel satisfied. The Council had also delivered news to him. Obi-Wan had humbly asked not to be taken back, but to be given probation. It had been granted. He would be required to remain on Temple grounds and have sessions with various Council members. He had not received what he had wanted, but he had received what he felt was right.