By midmorning, the Temple would be bustling with visitors. No matter how polite, the noise and activity could sometimes drive Siri a bit crazy. If she was training, that was one thing; it was a simple matter to concentrate on the physicality and ignore any others. Many days, she was at work in town, working with Toph on a variety of vehicles, each more interesting than the last. And that place was even more busy. Only in the early morning or late in the evening did the Temple hold only the Jedi, the peace fully restored. So many minds, so many thoughts...but it kept the Force vibrant here. She could appreciate that.
She walked the hall, headed towards the archives, to take advantage of the quiet beforehand. Early morning, her senses had been troubled, a sort of distress that reached her. Restless, she left her bed, seeking it out, only able to reassure herself that it was not Obi-Wan. Yet it changed, then faded, with something not quite like relief. Worried but resolving to keep her senses sharp for it, Siri had dressed in her work jeans, and a t-shirt under her blue wraparound cardigan. She liked it and wore it often; it reminded her of her old Jedi robes but fit in well in Vallo.
As she passed Ahsoka’s door, she hesitated. She could tell, her mind easily sensing the others that she lived with, that Ahsoka was meditating. But a feeling lingered….Siri realized the flavor of the distress earlier, that sensation of pain or grief or both, had come from her Torgruta friend. The concern deepened; had Ahsoka been in trouble? Clearly, she was back in the Temple and safe, but the worry remained. There were so few of them here, and they needed each other. Siri knocked, willing to interrupt Ahsoka’s meditation if the other Jedi needed her. Even if Ahsoka claimed to no longer be one.
Ahsoka was still reeling from her experiences at the Overlook Hotel and with “Anakin”. Even though it wasn’t really Anakin, it was an illusion created by the hotel, playing off of her darkest fears. It certainly felt real. And while Ahsoka liked to think that it had helped her move past the trauma that she still held on to, she was shaken all the same. She had meant every single word that she said to the version of Anakin that the hotel had presented to her. She was done feeling guilty. She was done blaming herself for what had happened to Anakin. She had no idea what was going on with him. It wasn’t her fault. She knew that now.
When Ahsoka arrived back at the Jedi Temple after leaving the hotel, she still felt somewhat restless. Her nerves and her mind was a jumble, and she knew that she didn’t want to continue her day like this. Though she trusted everyone who lived in the Temple, she didn’t want to burden them with what she’d gone through. She already knew that Obi-Wan carried some level of guilt since she’d told him what became of his former Padawan. And even though Obi-Wan had told her that he wasn’t angry at Ahsoka for telling him, she still felt a little guilty that he had to discover what had happened to Anakin the way that he did. The last thing Ahsoka wanted at the moment was to indirectly cause Obi-Wan to feel some level of guilt for what she’d gone through at the Overlook.
Though she’d left the Jedi Order long ago, Ahsoka still felt tied to the Force, and still made use of the techniques that had been taught to her by the Master Jedis. Once she was in her room, Ahsoka shut the door, lighting a candle that she liked, and sat on the floor, attempting to meditate and clear her mind. Though she was certainly finding difficulty in doing so. Her mind was still a jumble, and when she attempted to think of what happened to her, all of the feelings came flooding back, and her heart started pounding. Siri knocking on her door nearly startled her a little, pulling her out of her meditation. Ahsoka took a breath, steadying herself before answering.
“Come in.”
The invitation extended, Siri put her palm against the door sensor, and it slid open with a faint movement of the air. As she had sensed, Ahsoka was sitting in a meditative pose. However, her emotions were anything but calm.
“I’m sorry for the intrusion,” and she was, since she’d not known Ahsoka like Obi-Wan had, or any others who lived after Siri had died. She didn’t know yet what might be welcome. “I felt a disturbance earlier this morning. Something bothered you, or upset you, didn’t it?” Siri had stepped inside, letting the door close in case Ahsoka wanted privacy to answer the question. “It was faint, but I sense it from you now.”
Ahsoka looked up at Siri, managing to give her a small smile. Since arriving, she liked getting to know the Jedi Knight. Ahsoka had never gotten to meet her before she died, but Obi-Wan and Anakin had always spoken very highly of her. And Ahsoka knew what having her around must have meant to Obi-Wan. She was glad that they could be happy together.
Ahsoka heaved a bit of a sigh when Siri asked her what was wrong. Of course. Though she was trying to meditate, her distress must have been broadcasting through the Temple itself. Anyone closely attuned to the Force would have been able to sense it. Still, she felt comfortable enough with Siri to be able to discuss what happened with her.
“Please, don’t apologize,” she said, standing up. “You were right. There is...something wrong. This morning, when I went out for my morning run, I had a run-in with the strange hotel that’s been drawing on people’s fears lately. Needless to say, it’s left me shaken.”
“Ah. The Overlook, I assume? The one Dan spoke about.” Siri leaned against the wall, unsurprised but still concerned. She herself had caught the warning before it snagged her, but she’d come close enough to sense the dark side of the Force extremely heavily from it. “It seems it’s preying on a lot of the populace here. Are you alright?” Her brows furrowed. “Should it be something we tackle, as a group? Dan said to hold off, but….” She left the question hanging. None of those who lived in the Temple ever strayed too far from a fight.
Ahsoka nodded. “That’s the one. I wasn’t planning on going there. It was like I couldn’t escape it. No matter how much I ran, it pulled me in.” She paused, looking at the ground. “I’ll be fine,” she said, after pausing for a moment. “I admit, it did shake me. It was almost like it knew my innermost fears. I don’t know if I’d willingly go back there. I want it gone just as much as everyone else, but I don’t think I could go through that again.”
Siri took a small breath, making sure she radiated calm. “Not everything has to be a battle. Dan knows this place and it’s probably best if we trust him to handle it.” Siri offered a wry, half smile. “Just because we are what we are, doesn’t mean we have to involve ourselves in everything, right?” She had no interest in bringing her friends to handle the hotel, if Ahsoka said it wasn’t to be tangled with.
A little more somberly, Siri added, “With all our training, you would think we could handle our deepest fears with ease. But I’ve found that when we outgrow one fear, or dispel it, another seems all to happy to take its place.” She tilted her head, encouraging. “You want to talk about it?”
Ahsoka exhaled, taking in the calm that Siri was giving off. That the other woman was stable right now helped her get a little bit more centered. “I’m so used to feeling like everything had to be a fight,” she said. “I can’t remember ever not being in some sort of battle, it feels a little...strange not being involved. Though I guess there’s nothing wrong with admitting that I’m out of depth in something and letting those who are more experienced handle it.”
Ahsoka was silent for a moment when Siri asked if she wanted to talk about. She stared at the ground, instinctively going to wrap her arms around her chest. Talking about it would be good, yes. “I saw Anakin,” she said. “Only it wasn’t him. Not really. I know that. Still...it definitely felt like him. He told me it was my fault. That I could’ve stopped him from falling. I know that’s not true, and I’m not blaming myself for what happened to him anymore, but it still..stung.”
Siri moved over to sit next to Ahsoka, to dispel the lingering darkness with her presence, if possible. “I suspect,” she said, quietly, “that if Obi-Wan had gone in with you, both would have seen the same thing.” All of those around Anakin bore that burden now, because of the enormity of what he had done. “I will tell you….I did not go in, but I could hear it. It called to me in my own padawan’s voice. He had left the Order and turned away from the Jedi some years ago. I could almost feel the recrimination….” She didn’t go into why the hotel couldn’t completely draw her in; she suspected that Dan had told her more about it than the others knew.
“We’re Jedi, and we can let go of attachments, but that means we make them in the first place. To our teachers, to our mentors….to our friends. And whenever we love, we take a little responsibility for that.” She let out her breath, slowly. “Master Yoda always cautioned about looking to the future, but we as often get mired in the past, don’t we?”
Ahsoka gave Siri a look of understanding. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” she said. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you.” She was silent for a minute. “I’m glad Obi-Wan didn’t get pulled in. Part of me regrets telling him what happened to Anakin. I know it’s weighed on him heavily. I almost wish I hadn’t. But at the same time, I don’t think I could have kept that from him. It didn’t seem fair. It’s a terrible thing, but it happened. And he was his Master. He had a right to know.”
Ahsoka nodded, shutting her eyes for a second. “I was never good at not keeping attachments. Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like if I stayed with the Jedi Order. I try not to dwell on the past too much, and go forward with my own path, but I still can’t help but think about it sometimes.” She laughed softly. “It’s almost a little funny how that works out.”
“You don’t have to be a Jedi to embody the same beliefs,” Siri offered. “I think if you had stayed with the Order, you would have made some good changes. New blood usually does.” She smiled, slight. “I used to be a real uptight Jedi padawan, always ready to fight, always thinking I knew everything about everything. Obi-Wan and I used to argue endlessly. He had a lot more patience than I did. Still does.” She shrugged. “But the Order isn’t everything. It’s just a name for all of us, the creatures that feel the Force like we do, and band together to do something about it. A name doesn’t have the power. You did what was right for you.”
The same sadness wanted to well up again, the remembrance that those Force users Siri called her friends, her compatriots, were all gone. Here, she hadn’t been able to feel any of them in the Force. Perhaps Vallo was too far from their galaxy. “Obi-Wan values the truth. He always has. He won’t shy away from it just because it hurts. You are much the same, I think. And Anakin, who he was before he fell….he deserves to be grieved.”