Chapter Text
Coruscant - 7/6/7941
The Room of a Thousand Fountains truly was one of Ben’s favorite places in the Temple. This is no surprise as many Jedi count it among their favorite places.
Ben had chosen to meditate in a small garden designed to mimic the rainforests of Haruun Kal. It’s such a small thing, to make him so happy. This particular garden once served as a regular meeting point for Mace and him. For years, they meditated together here. This was where they had built the bond they had shared in that life.
This garden was where they each realized there was nothing unrequited between them.
Now, Ben comes here to feel closer to Mace. They can’t afford to be seen together often yet so this garden serves as a waypoint of sorts. They both meditate here often, each time leaving as much of a trace of themselves as they can get away with. More than enough for the other to center on in his own meditation.
They end up sharing the space sometimes, genuinely by accident. Those days are Ben’s favorites.
Today, though, the garden is empty save for Ben. That suits him just fine. He’s equally grateful for the solitude this time. He has a lot on his mind today.
The Anohrah tournament starts in only a few days and Ben has received news he’s not quite sure how to deal with just yet.
After their conversation a few months back, Yoda had made the effort to reach out to Dooku again. Ben was pleased by the reports of steady progress being made on that front. He just hadn’t thought Yoda would invite the Count home for the tournament. He’s even more surprised Dooku accepted the invitation.
The entire situation has left Ben uncertain of his own feelings once more.
Ben has been in the past for almost three months now. Three eventful months at that. The council have been a great support and Ben is glad to see all the work they’ve put in towards avoiding the future that was. It’s odd, though, to be able to delegate without any expectation. Ben spent the last twenty years as one of the last Jedi Masters in existence; there was no one to support him. When there was, in those last years of the Republic, Ben couldn’t really delegate anything. He was a High General and the only one with relevant experience within the last century.
He wasn’t the only member of the council to have experienced war, but he was the only one to have served as a general in any kind of conflict within that century. It was an entirely different level of banthashit seeing as his experience was as a child general helping lead an army of children. Ben thinks the worst part is that the clones were just as young as some of his oldest fighters on Melida/Daan. At least the padawans were older than he’d been. Not old enough by far. Still, it was some comfort at least.
All that to say, Ben was very unaccustomed to being able to hand off any amount of work whatsoever. He was, however, very familiar with counseling and advising other councilors on tasks that they could handle without him. It’s oddly comforting. Yes, there were times during the war when he’d wished people would just stop coming to him for every little thing but he’d never come to resent it. It reminded him of the better parts of his traumatic apprenticeship: the camaraderie and the support network that often develops between those heading some massive task.
‘It’s lonely at the top’ is a saying across the galaxy. While Ben can attest to the truth of that statement, he also knows that it is entirely possible to minimize that loneliness to a perfectly manageable degree. The high council strive to avoid such loneliness by never abandoning one of their own to a task if they can help it.
While he misses the council he’d served on, Ben is unspeakably glad to have found himself working with the council of this time. Plo and Micah are the only two first-term councilors this year, with only Micah having served fewer than three years. The rest of the council have either served at least two full terms or hold the long-term and lifetime seats.
While the members of this council are naive in some of the harsher realities of a Darkening galaxy, they are not inexperienced. They aren’t ‘shinies’, as the clones would say.
The clones are yet another thing Ben is uncertain how to handle. After all, it’s entirely possible that they won’t come to be at all in this timeline. Sifo-Dyas certainly won’t be ordering the creation of a clone army any time soon. Neither will Palpatine be able to do so; according to the Shadows’ reports, Palpatine is very dead. He’d gone missing around the time Mace and Ben arrived in this time. His corpse had turned up about a month ago, apparently assassinated.
Ben has his doubts. Thankfully, the council share those doubts. The rest of the galaxy is free to believe what they’d like; the Jedi High Council will be working under the assumption of this being the doing of the sith. Likely Sidious’ own sith master.
Ben would like to be relieved that they won’t have to face Sidious. Unfortunately, his death leaves them completely ignorant of their main opponent. At least with Palpatine, they would have some insight and experience to guide them. They have no such advantage against whatever sith they face now.
Ben hopes that Palpatine’s death will mean Dooku doesn’t succumb to the Dark. He would very much prefer to not face off against the Count in battle again.
It will be difficult, though, to see the man when he comes for the tournament. Ben had never truly met Dooku before Geonosis; had never known the man who should have been his grandmaster. For once, Ben is glad that he cannot, medically, participate in the tournament. Dooku can’t either as he is no longer a member of the Order. That’s one disaster neatly avoided.
Ben will just have to do his best to keep witnesses in sight whenever he and Dooku interact. Which they will, Yoda will make certain of it.
For now, though, Ben would much rather focus on better thoughts. Like Mace’s participation in the tournament.
Ben knows he’s in for a treat. Mace is not, by nature, a man prone to showing off. Fortunately for Ben, he makes an exception for the tournament’s opening matches.
It was at one such match, either 40-something years ago or one year from now depending on how you count it, that Ben realized what it was that he actually felt for Mace.
Replaying that moment over in his mind, Ben centers himself and settles in to enjoy the rest of his meditation.
Coruscant - 8/6/7941
“Are you sure you’re not gonna compete?”
“What part of ‘Master Che doesn’t want me to’ do you not understand?” Honestly, he’s explained this three times already.
“But she lets you spar!”
Do not smack the child, Ben. Do not smack the child. Ben folds his hands into the sleeves of his robe to make it that much harder to accidentally smack this irritating creature. “Quinlan, you know a tournament is a much different beast than a spar.”
“But it’s been three months! You’re totally healed enough!” Force, how does Tholme deal with this on the daily? Ben loves his friend, truly he does. Quinlan is like a brother to him. “Besides, don’t you wanna show off for your boyfriend?”
And with that, Ben must accept the unfortunate duties that come with their fraternal relationship.
Quinlan sputters as he resurfaces from the pond Ben pushed him into. Ben bows his head solemnly and walks away.
Coruscant - 9/6/7941
Feemor glares at the serene form across from him as he lay panting in the grass. “Remind me why I have to spar with you today?”
Ben, the bastard, doesn’t even twitch as he inspects the one singe Feemor had managed to leave on his tunic. “Quinlan refused.”
“And why is that?” He hadn’t actually gotten an answer when he’d asked earlier; only a raised brow and a taunting smirk.
“He tripped into a pond the last time we hung out.”
Somehow Feemor doubts the chaotic padawan truly tripped. Ben and Quinlan were fine on their own but putting them together turns them into the most mischievous pair of younglings the galaxy has ever seen.
Still, he’s not going to question his little brother. These spars are the best training he’s had in years and the fresh air of the gardens does them both good.
Coruscant - 10/6/7941
“Arriving today, my former padawan will be.”
“It will be a pleasure to meet him.”
Ben and Yoda were lounging in the shade of a vibrantly purple Haruun Kal Kolemf tree enjoying the gentle currents of the Force on this bright and joyous day. The Room of a Thousand Fountains was full of excited younglings running around and getting up to mischief. The academy never bothered to hold lessons the day before the tournaments began. Thus, the temple got to enjoy this annual occurrence. Jedi of all ages and stages of life set aside their responsibilities for the day and just had fun. Younglings ran about the temple like wildlings, padawans got up to mischief, knights enjoyed the day with their friends, and even the most reticent of masters could be seen aiding and abetting the wildlings that were the children of their order.
For Ben and Yoda, this was a day to bask in the sheer overwhelming life of it all. They had seen so much: Yoda through the sheer number of years he’d lived, and Ben through the content of his own many years. Yaddle had teased them once, on a day she’d caught them in similar circumstances as today, that they were the resident ‘old men’ of the order. Ben and Yoda had laughed and playfully objected, but they both knew the truth of it.
They are old. In different ways, yes, but they are indeed very old.
Yoda is actually quite old for his species, that much he will readily admit. His bones ache and creak and he needs that damned hoverchair more often than not. The Yoda of this time, though, refuses to become too old in spirit. He has seen what may come, has seen how quickly it all ages him. So he intends to make the absolute most of a galaxy at peace. Intends to play with the younglings and make mischief with the padawans. So, while his body is indeed old, he has regained the youthful nature that hadn’t fully left him yet.
Ben, on the other hand, is old in spirit. He never did reach any impressive number of years, not by a long shot. But he is far older than the Yoda sitting next to him will ever become. Even when he makes merry with his young friends, there is a weight about him that speaks of years; decades of hardship, loss, and struggle. Being here in this time, this temple full of life and light, helps. But Ben will ever more be an old man.