DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc and 20th Century Fox. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.
*Ouch. Ouch. Ouch!* Qui-Gon yanked the comb through his hair, removing another clump of clay... and hair. "They ought to use this stuff to construct space stations, instead of giving it to children for play," he muttered, rubbing at his scalp.
He heard the door to the main room open. "Come in, Mace. Make yourself at home," he called, a bit sourly.
"Qui-Gon...." To his surprise, his friend sounded worried. Qui-Gon put down the comb and left the bathroom.
"What is it?"
"It's Obi-Wan Kenobi-- you know, the little human boy."
"Yes, of course. What's wrong with him?" Qui-Gon was surprised to find himself as concerned as he was. All of the Jedi did their best to care for and teach the children; but this child... this one was special, somehow.
"He gave you that, uh, hair thing...."
"Yes. What about it?"
"Well... one of the other children told him that it wasn't-- that it sort of-- well, that it got caught in your hair."
"Yes. And I say again: What about it?"
"He didn't actually cry... but he was terribly upset about it, Qui-Gon. You need to talk to him."
Qui-Gon blinked.
Mace sighed. "He may be in training to become a Jedi, but he's still a little boy. He has a bad case of hero-worship, and he probably feels lower than dianoga larvae. Go talk to him."
"What do I tell him?"
"Go talk to him."
"I don't have any real experience with children. Every time we do anything with them, it--"
"Go talk to him."
"So you think I should go talk to him."
"That's what I think."
"It always makes me nervous when you make sense."
"I thought it made you nervous when I say 'I have an idea.' "
"No. That makes me terrified."
"Ha. Ha. Ha."
It wasn't that difficult for Qui-Gon to find Obi-Wan. The boy was a tiny, intense point of misery. He was in the meditation garden, Qui-Gon was pleased to see, trying to work through his feelings.
A small stream had been carefully cultivated to run through the entire garden, narrow enough to step over at some places; wide enough to justify a small bridge at others. Obi-Wan was kneeling near one of the narrower points, near a small stand of bushes. Soundlessly, Qui-Gon sank into a kneeling posture beside Obi-Wan.
The boy shrank into himself, but said nothing. Qui-Gon closed his eyes, and let the Force enter him fully, opening himself to the present and the future, until they lay before him in a network of paths and crossroads. Time shifted and changed constantly; all Jedi knew that. But for a few moments, the Force could show one a few of the possible futures. Even if one chose to find yet another way, the reminder of what was possible was invaluable.
"I thought it was dry," Obi-Wan said, at last, in a very, very small voice.
"So did I."
An even smaller voice. "I didn't mean to get your hair all gunked up. I'm really sorry."
"So am I."
Now the boy was confused. "Sir?"
"For spoiling your gift to me. I ought to have been more careful. I'm sorry."
He opened his eyes, and looked down. Obi-Wan's mouth was hanging open in surprise. "Is something wrong, Obi-Wan?"
"You-- sorry? But it was my fault!"
"No. It was your mistake."
"But-- but..." Obi-Wan frowned. "If it can't be my fault... then how can it be... oh. We both made a mistake, I guess?"
"Yes, we did. Both of us."
"Oh."
Qui-Gon closed his eyes again. He could sense the boy doing the same, and smiled to himself.
"You really liked it?"
"Yes, very much. Nobody's ever made anything for me before."
"Never? Not even once?"
"Not even once." Qui-Gon was both amused and touched to realise the boy felt sorry for him. "Thank you, again."
"You're welcome, sir."
They lapsed into silence. The Jedi Master breathed, slowly and deeply, waiting, looking into and outside of himself. Above them, the stars in the night sky flickered through the atmosphere, following their own paths. Within Qui-Gon's heart, one door closed; and another opened.
Things are as they are, he thought, quoting one of Yoda's favourite catchphrases.
He rose to his feet in one easy movement. More awkwardly, Obi-Wan stood, as well.
"You should be getting back to your quarters."
"Yes, sir."
They walked from the garden together.
"Did I ever tell you what happened after I knocked Master Yoda over?"
"No, sir. What?" Obi-Wan asked, expectantly.
"He lectured me. And then, he took me as his apprentice. He said it was the only way to keep me from destroying the entire Temple, and he didn't feel as if it would be fair to make someone else handle me. He said quite a lot else, too. For quite a while. Hours, in fact. I missed three classes."
"Wow." Obi-Wan's voice was reverent.
"Quite. Good night, Obi-Wan."
"Good night, sir." The boy bowed, politely.
Qui-Gon returned the bow. "One last thing."
"Yes, sir?" Obi-Wan watched him, waiting.
"I'll expect you in the training room directly after breakfast... padawan." Qui-Gon smiled at the small boy, bowed again, and strode off down the corridor, taking the left-hand turning.
Obi-Wan stared after him. And stared.
After a moment, Qui-Gon passed by again, this time headed in the correct direction.
"Wow," said Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Part 1 Part 2