On that day Anakin shone. The sun picked out the remaining blond in his slowly-darkening hair, highlighting a golden halo over brown roots. His skin shone, too, skinny chest and arms glistening with sweat. White teeth were bared in a bright grin aimed at his master, who smiled back proudly at the boy who'd just bested a padawan nearly five years his senior.

Qui-Gon would be proud of him, Obi-Wan thought, of me for training him. For the first time, the memory of Qui-Gon brought with it no sharp stab of pain to ruin the moment. There was no doubt in Obi-Wan's mind that his master had been right - Anakin was the Chosen One.

What feels like a lifetime later, Obi-Wan wakes to the sting of tears and the harsh desert sun and the dull ache of loss that never seems to fade. Not even Qui-Gon's presence brings him comfort.