Title: A thousand fountains – a thousand thoughts
Fandom: Star Wars EU AU
Main character(s): Obi-Wan Kenobi
Minor character(s): Kirra-Lo An (OFC)
Rating: PG
Summery: Obi-Wan is struggling to come to terms with the loss of his Master.
Author's Note: I will readily admit this vignette was mainly written because I wanted to write something very short and very simple that introduced Kirra-Lo.
Disclaimer: Star Wars doesn't belong to me – it a registered trademark of LucasArts or some such – I'm only a fan with too much imagination and a need to express it. I don't make any money of this and I only claim my own characters since everything else is obviously not my own.
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A thousand fountains – a thousand thoughts
The Room of a Thousand Fountains, Jedi Temple, Coruscant, 32 BBY
There was a void in Obi-Wan's mind as he sat and attempted to take in the serenity and beauty of the Room of a Thousand Fountains – he could hear the calm fall of water in the falls and the soft, almost inaudible, rustle of leaves in the foliage as the environmental system worked on supplying oxygen to the huge greenhouse. When he was younger he often sought refuge here as Jedi training became too difficult and it had always worked – until now.
Qui-Gon was dead – it was the only thought tearing through his heart and soul now that he for a short moment could allow himself the luxury of grief and mourning.
Growing up he had fantasised about a time when he had been Knighted, but still could seek the wisdom of his old Master – in some cases the master-apprentice bond didn't last beyond the Padawan years, as was the case with Qui-Gon and Dooku, nevertheless Obi-Wan had imagined him and his Master to be different. Yet, here he was, a Jedi Knight with his own Padawan, and he was alone.
It was selfish, he knew – the living mourning their own loss rather than rejoice in their loved ones joining the Force in a way no one alive could ever come to understand, but still he couldn't stop the void from filling his being.
He was alone and Qui-Gon was dead.
Never again would he sit at the edge of his old Master's sleeping couch, a cup of leaf tea in his hands, and listen to his wise words. Never again would his old Master hand him his Lightsabre, a stern yet amused look on his face, and berate him for loosing it once more. Never again.
A gentle movement in the bushes caught Obi-Wan's attention – a figure approached him as if oblivious to his wishes to be left alone – Kirra-Lo was characteristically silent as she sat down on the stone bench mere inches from the grieving Knight. The Theelin-hybrid did not look at him, her eyes were veiled and lost in the distance as she took his left hand in both her smaller ones and did not speak.
Reassurance emanated from the young Jedi's hands and he could feel the raw edges in heart stop to bleed – they still ached, but the hurricane was now only a throbbing – his mind found focus in the anchor her touch provided.
He remembered his old Master many years ago, deep in reflection, in one of the Meditation Gardens – Obi-Wan had only been a young Padawan then and wondered why a renowned Warrior Master would spend so much time in contemplation. When he later asked Qui-Gon that question the older Jedi had smiled calmly at him and answered: 'How can you expect to bring peace to the galaxy if you can not bring peace to yourself?'
Yes, Qui-Gon was still dead, but would never depart as long as he was still remembered.
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