A Christmassy Tale (Qui/Obi. Humour/Fluff.) Christmas gift to all.
Title: A Christmassy Tale.
Author: Glenstorm
Characters: Qui/Obi
Age: 15
Summary: The boys visit a planet with a celebration very similar to one of our own. Mindless Christmas fluff.
Warnings: Religious connections implied. If you don't like that then read no further!
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. No money made (As if)
Hello folks! Just stopping by very quickly to drop this little Christmas prezzie in. I hope you all like it.
Season's greetings, everyone!
***
"It's snowing again, Master," Obi-Wan Kenobi observed as he gazed out of the window at the white world beyond.
Pointless observation really, but there seemed little else to say. His mind was empty. His fingers itched to drum a most unJedi-like rhythm of restlessness upon his knee and the flakes of paint on the windowsill had suddenly become more interesting than they ever had seemed before.
Ok, he was bored.
The planet on which they were staying traditionally held some sort of festival during their darkest winter month and as such had called a halt to everything--including their important trade negotiations with a neighbouring planet. It was an act that allowed the whole population to sit back and enjoy the festivities. A time to 'be merry and joyous' or so he gathered.
Obi-Wan frowned. After being here for little over a week, he couldn't quite see the point of it. The inhabitants of this planet didn't really have much to be merry about. To say that it wasn't a wealthy place was a gross understatement. Everything here had to be kept at the very basic level. Even the cabin in which they stayed was crudely built, made from rough-hewn logs, consisting of only two rooms and one large antiquated open log fire.
He wasn't complaining about the last one of course. It was freezing here.
Obi-Wan would grudgingly admit the cold never quite agreed with him, but the people on this planet didn't seem to mind -- the bitter temperatures nor their lack of wealth. Indeed, they appeared to have forgotten their poverty for the moment and were oddly upbeat. Many of them were out there now, in the cold, tossing merry greetings, building terribly ill-proportioned men out of snow and decorating trees with lights and long fuzzy pieces of string that glittered (he hadn't got to the bottom of that one yet).
Obi-Wan sighed. He supposed that it was all well and good but he wished they could have continued with the negotiations rather than stopping for all this pointless frivolity. It would've been a much more productive use of everyone's time.
At the very least he would not be sitting here, bored, getting to be on a first name basis with interesting flakes of paint.
A long sigh pushed past his lips.
Annoyingly indifferent to his irritation, the snow outside continued to fall, lazy specks of white lace glittering against the many glowing colours peeping from amongst the tree branches.
"It's magical, isn't it?" his Master's voice sounded from close behind him.
Obi-Wan turned to see Qui-Gon, leonine features soft as his deep cobalt eyes took in the wintry world outside.
Trust Qui-Gon to see something like that in all this. "If you say so, Master," Obi-Wan replied dutifully.
Qui-Gon turned a quizzical gaze upon his lacklustre Padawan.
"You don't think so?"
Obi-Wan winced and looked up at him. He knew that tone. It told him he was running blatantly into one of his Master's lectures, but he was unable to hide his lack of enthusiasm now. "It's a nice enough gesture, Master," he started carefully. "But I just don't see why it warrants the whole planet coming to a stop. We could have finished the negotiations by now."
Qui-Gon's lips curved in a slight smile. "Always so eager to rush into the future. When did you become such a workaholic, my Padawan?" he asked mildly.
Obi-Wan frowned indignantly. "I'm not--"
But Qui-Gon had already lifted a hand to silence his protest, turning back to the window. "Your dedication is admirable, Obi-Wan," he said. "But it is wrong to get so lost in your work that you lose sight of what it is you're doing it for." He swept a hand towards the scene outside. "On this very planet a whole population is preparing to celebrate all the ideals that the Jedi strive to achieve in this galaxy: peace, happiness and compassion for all beings." Qui-Gon's gaze softened. "I certainly have never had the privilege to witness such an event and it goes someway to restoring my faith in the galaxy. If all planets had a celebration such as this and managed to keep the spirit true for all times, there would be no need for Jedi."
Obi-Wan felt his Master's eyes move to rest heavily on him. "All this is before you, Obi-Wan, and yet you sit here by the window on the Eve of Peace grousing over the stall of some minor negotiation. You should be rejoicing in this small pocket of goodness, for such things are the rare islands of light that keep the greater darkness at bay."
Obi-Wan hung his head, feeling suddenly shamed. "I'm sorry, Master. I'll try to do better in future."
"Hmmm, well," Qui-Gon pursed his lips and glanced at the afternoon sky outside. "I'd say it's not too late for the present." With that he abruptly pushed himself away from the window and headed for the door. "Get your cloak, Padawan."
Obi-Wan looked up surprised. "Where are we going?"
"Out into the world."
Obi-Wan closed his eyes, barely stifling a groan. Qui-Gon had that other tone in his voice in his voice now. The one that told Obi-Wan that he was now in for one of his Master's unorthodox teachings in grasping the present and that the older man was going to enjoy every minute of it.
"Come, Padawan," Qui-Gon called. "You need a lesson in getting into the spirit of this Festival of Peace."
There he went.
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan sighed and got up to follow Qui-Gon to the door, collecting his cloak along the way.
Slipping it over his shoulders he suddenly wished for a thicker one. It really was unbelievably cold out there. Already he could feel the fresh air reaching in to nip at his exposed flesh as Qui-Gon threw open the door.
Obi-Wan hung away. The fire behind him was warming his back invitingly, demanding his return. He really didn't want to go out. But before he could raise a feasible protest Qui-Gon stepped through the door and disappeared into a swirl of snow.
Well that was it. Resigned to his fate, Obi-Wan followed his Master from the cabin, leaving the tantalising warmth of the fire's embrace behind.
Out on the large, frosty porch way he paused, immediately burying his naked hands into volumous sleeves. His warm breath clouded thick on the air even as the sharp cold pricked at his lungs. The sudden plunge in temperature was like a shock to his system and he shivered.
Infernal place!
Rubbing his arms in a bid to keep warm, Obi-Wan glanced around. An entire day of heavy snowfall had laid a thick white blanket over everything. By now it was nearly a meter deep in most places. Staring down at it, Obi-Wan reluctantly moved from the cover of the porch. His boots sank into the gentle folds with a soft crunch. Snowflakes fluttered against his face, sticking in his eyelashes. He blinked them away just in time to catch sight of Qui-Gon's dark silhouette as the Master walked steadily off down the street.
Gathering his wits Obi-Wan started after him.
It was a bright enough afternoon despite the snow. His eyes travelled over the other rough hewn houses lining the broad walk way. Candles flickered welcome from the small windows. Rings of dark leaves all threaded with red ribbon dressed the doors, and over each large porchway there hung thick bunches of strange white berries.
Obi-Wan frowned, 'tistlemoe' he believed they called it. Funny name really. He had yet to learn its use, but he had observed that people seemed to get very… friendly towards one another when caught beneath a bunch.
Sure enough, in the next doorway along a young lady caught him looking and threw him a suggestive wink.
Obi-Wan flushed right up to his ears. Ducking his head he hastened after his Master, determined to keep Qui-Gon's tall frame firmly between him and the bold young girl. No one was going to catch him beneath any tistlemoe. Matching Qui-Gon's long strides he kept his head low until they were safely round the corner, not even paying attention to where they were going.
"Look at this, Obi-Wan," his Master's voice finally brought his eyes up after a few prolonged moments of silent trudging.
Qui-Gon had lead him directly to the town square. And…
Obi-Wan's breath caught in his throat.
Even to him the sight was nothing short of magnificent.
Literally every house and shop gleamed with its own unique brilliance. Colourful gifts and papers lined every window and door. The large building of the town hall stood proud, decorated with wreaths of handsome green leaves, ribbons and twinkling lights. A band of musicians had set up their stand just outside the main doors, instruments polished to shining perfection.
But nothing could draw the eye more than the giant tree that sat right in the middle of the square.
Its needled boughs were very nearly groaning beneath the weight of countless multicoloured lights, reams of glimmering string and hundreds of large gold and silver baubles. Small bells pealed softly in the slight breeze and right at the very tip, a full thirty feet into the air, sat a last gleaming star.
The falling snowflakes danced around the majestic plant, catching and reflecting each tiny light in merry display. They gave the breathtaking effect of a rainbow tumbling to earth in countless sparkling spots of multicoloured lace.
Wide eyed, Obi-Wan simply stared. It was undeniably one of the most magical sights he had ever beheld.
"But why do they do this, Master," he found himself asking softly. "They don't seem to have much to celebrate. They have so little."
"They celebrate because tomorrow marks the birth of the greatest king this planet has ever known. In his reign he strove to bring peace and joy to his people, breaking an entire era of greed and violence. It was a time the likes of which has never been seen before or since, made all the more special because the reign was so short, for the good king died young, killed by an assassin before he could ever complete his noble vision." Qui-Gon sighed at the thought of the senseless loss. "However, out of this tragedy came good, for every year at this time the whole planet unites in a great Festival of Peace in honour of the wise young king."
Qui-Gon turned and gave Obi-Wan a slight smile. "As to this planet's lack of wealth," he shrugged. "How much do you need to celebrate peace and caring."
Obi-Wan shook his head. "Not much I suppose, Master."
Qui-Gon clasped his shoulder. "No, not much at all. Now shall we see what else we can find, my dear Padawan."
"Yes, Master."
Qui-Gon nodded and started to continue down the street.
Only to stop when an ear-splitting shout rent the crisp air.
"There they are! Look! There they are! Get them! Get them!"
Obi-Wan's hand flew instinctively to his lightsaber, sharp eyes casting instantly for the promised danger.
Qui-Gon's deep chuckle startled him into immobility. A large hand caught his tense arm, pulling his fingers away from his weapon. "I think that would be over doing it just a bit, Padawan," he said, the smile evident in his voice.
"But…" Obi-Wan's confusion was cut short when a gang of fifteen younglings burst from the cover of the surrounding houses. Laughing and squealing they circled the Jedi, tiny fists clutching small balls of snow.
Dropping his saber hand with a helpless laugh, Obi-Wan relaxed. He hoped his cold reddened cheeks would cover his blush in that moment as their perceived deadly assailants turned out to be nothing more than a group of pre-school children Qui-Gon had insisted on befriending during their stay.
Qui-Gon grinned, a rare mischievous light glittering in his eyes as he assessed their situation. "Well, it appears that we're good and surrounded." He turned. "Are you ready to do battle, Obi-Wan?"
Obi-Wan snorted at the thought and shook his head. This was nothing short of ridiculous. "No, Master," he said dryly. "I think I'll sit this one out."
A nameless emotion flickered across Qui-Gon's features then, but it was gone too quickly for Obi-Wan to identify. Disappointment? Obi-Wan's heart plummeted at the very thought, but he'd said it and it was too late to change his mind now. Turning he began to move out of the circle of knee-high hoards, leaving his Master to face them alone in the centre.
He was almost free when a soggy snowball caught him full in the mouth.
"Ssssppppfffttt." Obi-Wan spluttered in surprise, then turned--slowly--towards his giggling five-year-old assailant.
The child grinned and waved another snowball challengingly.
Walk away, he told himself. Just carry on walking and get clear of this silliness. But the sight of the triumphant face was enough to loose a fierce flash of juvenile pride. Against the better judgement of his rational mind, Obi-Wan found himself turning back.
"Well, if that's the way you want to play it."
Gathering a large fistful of snow he returned to his Master's side. Qui-Gon's lips were now quirking with barely concealed amusement and delight. "I'm ready when you are, Master."
"I'm glad of it," the big man said. "I couldn't possibly go into battle without you at my back." With that Qui-Gon stooped to gather his own arsenal.
"Yay!!!!" the children yelled and starting flinging snow in earnest.
Snowballs whizzed through the air and the town centre was suddenly filled with the sound of satisfyingly wet splats and the cries of laughter and challenge.
Five minutes in and the situation got so wild and confused that nothing was safe. More often than not the snowballs were hitting unoffending trees or houses rather than their intended targets. But that didn't seem to matter.
"Watch your back, Padawan!"
Obi-Wan spun round. Five of the youngsters were trying to sneak up behind him. Somehow each of them had managed to roll up giant balls of snow and were holding them high above their heads, fully intent on dumping them on the hitherto unsuspecting Padawan.
"Oh, I don't think so," Obi-Wan laughed. Using a touch of the Force, he began to stir up the snow around the children's feet. White clouds billowed into the air, floating round the would-be ambushers in a miniature snowstorm.
The younglings were so amazed and confused that they ended up dropping their deluxe snowballs. Which promptly landed on their own heads.
Laughter roared out and Obi-Wan soon realised that his own had joined the chorus.
For once they were not fighting pirates or warlords, assassins or trained warriors, here there were just innocent younglings armed with snow and excitement. And it was wonderful.
The battle stretched, he and his Master valiantly held their own against the knee high hoards, but the crowd of children only seemed to be growing. Eventually the Jedi lost to superior numbers. Their defence was spectacularly overloaded and Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan went down in a hail of snow.
With a cry of triumph the younglings closed in, pressing the surrender.
"Alright!" Qui-Gon laughed around mouthfuls of snow. "Alright! We give up! You win!"
The children squealed with delight and with a last hail of snowballs they dashed off alight with their victory.
Still chuckling Qui-Gon got to his feet, dusted the snow from his robe and reached down to help his Padawan.
"Well that was good. How's your valued dignity now, Obi-Wan? Dented?"
The Padawan snorted and made a show of straightening his robes, deliberately hiding his face and the traces of merriment that lingered there. "No, Master."
"No? Not even when the word somehow gets round the Temple that the notorious Obi-Wan Kenobi got bested by thirty snowball wielding younglings?" Qui-Gon poked.
"Oh, hah hah," Obi-Wan responded dryly. "You wouldn't dare. Now let's just get out of here before any more show up."
Qui-Gon laughed. "Well from what I just saw, I'd say you'd enjoy it if they did."
Obi-Wan threw his Master a mock scowl. "Not half as much as you would, I think." With that he set off down the street. Still smiling, Qui-Gon followed him.
As they exited the square, the Master quickly retook the lead, heading along a path of his own choosing and leaving Obi-Wan once again only able to guess at their destination. He didn't think his Master even had one in mind.
The wind gusted past them, stirring up the drifts of old snow to mix it briefly with the fresh flakes still falling steadily from the pale grey sky. Obi-Wan shuddered. He lifted his shaking hands to his mouth and breathed onto the reddened flesh with hopes of warming them. His breath clouded from between his fingers. It was so damn cold! The impromptu snowball fight had leeched the last of the warmth from his hands and left his robes cold and damp. The bitter wind was quick to take advantage.
Qui-Gon seemed to catch his discomfort and subtly shifted his direction. All of a sudden they were heading up the path of a small public house. A young, muffled waitress stood outside. A tray loaded with steaming mugs was balanced on one slender arm.
Qui-Gon approached her and swept two hot beverages from the offered tray. Nodding his thanks to the barmaid, he returned to his Padawan and handed him one of the mugs. Obi-Wan took hold of it with a grateful murmur. The warmth was like a piece of heaven between his hands and after a cursory glance he took careful sip of the dark reddish liquid inside.
It was deliciously hot, slightly spicy and…
"Master, what is this?"
Qui-Gon gave him a sidelong look over the rim of his mug, finishing his own swallow before answering his student. "I believe they call it 'mulled wine'," he said.
"Mulled w--" Obi-Wan looked down at his steaming mug. "Alcohol?! But Master I'm--,"
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon stopped him. "I doubt that there's enough alcohol in here to floor a womp rat. I think that we can overlook a bit of scandalous underage drinking in this instance."
Qui-Gon took another long swig of the warming brew. "However," he said as he finished, "if my judgement turns out to be floored and you cannot hold your drink as well as a Tatooine rodent, I believe I am quite capable of curbing any drunken rampages you may feel the need to go on."
Obi-Wan flushed and lifted his drink to his lips again, hiding his face behind the wide rim.
It was very warming, he had to admit.
Once the mugs had been drained Qui-Gon returned them to the waiting tray.
"Better?" he asked his Padawan when he came back.
Obi-Wan nodded gratefully. "Yes, Master."
"Then, let's be off."
And so the strange journey continued. As they went Obi-Wan was careful to keep his attention on what was going on around him. Certain that it was an unspoken requirement of his Master's. People passed them by, never failing to call merry greetings. Everyone seemed to be doing their very best to spread the joy of the season.
He was just studying one of the more outlandish snowmen when the sound of voices rose from up ahead called his attention away from his immediate observations. In fact, now that he listened, he became aware that the air was now filled with a distant clamouring of voices and laughter. But he couldn't yet make out the source.
Finally they turned down a last street and left the houses behind, starting up a small rise in the land. Cresting the hill, Obi-Wan found himself looking out across a vast expanse of open ground and suddenly the source of the din became clear.
Stretching out ahead of them was a great black lake, its dark waters frozen over with ice that must have been at least a meter thick.
Large groups of people were crowding round it, some on the banks, others sliding around on the surface. It all looked rather bazaar from where Obi-Wan stood. But the crowds seemed to be having a lot of fun.
"Ah, ice skating," Qui-Gon observed.
"Ice skating?" Obi-Wan asked.
"Yes," Qui-Gon looked down at him. "You've never heard of it before, Obi-Wan?"
"No, Master."
"Hmmm, well in that case…" Qui-Gon gave him a little enigmatic smile. "Come, Padawan."
Wondering what his Master could possibly have in store for him now, Obi-Wan followed. Qui-Gon seemed to be unusually high spirited today. Not that he'd never seen this side of Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan had long ago learned that his Master was far from the cool, reserved Jedi he appeared to be to those who did not know him well. But drinking? Play fighting in the snow with children?
Obi-Wan shook his head. It seemed that the Festival spirit had gotten to his Master, too. But then, Qui-Gon had always had a connection to the Living Force that Obi-Wan knew he would never enjoy, even if he lived a hundred life times. His Master could absorb the atmosphere around him and be apart of it like no other Jedi he had ever known, just by simply [i]being[/i] there.
And Obi-Wan loved him for that. Even though it vexed him sometimes, he would have it no other way.
Which was why he followed his Master now, down the hill without comment towards the people on the ice.
"Wait here, Padawan," Qui-Gon said as they reached the lakeside. Obi-Wan gave him a quizzical look but again obeyed without a word.
Qui-Gon disappeared into the crowd.
While he waited for his Master to return, Obi-Wan turned to watch the activity on the lake. They looked so graceful out there, he realised. Complete freedom of movement as they glided over the lake. Obi-Wan found himself beginning to wonder what it would be like to be out there.
"Wonder no more," Qui-Gon's voice sounded behind him.
Obi-Wan spun round to find Qui-Gon standing knee deep in the snow clutching a pair of boots in each hand. No not boots. Obi-Wan stared at them. Fixed to the bottom of each sole was a gleaming silver blade.
So that's what the distant skaters were sliding about on.
"Put these on, Obi-Wan" his Master said, handing him the smaller pair of boots.
Obi-Wan accepted them and studied the blades more closely.
They were no thicker than his little finger.
"Are you sure about this, Master?"
"Of course," came the reply as Qui-Gon crouched down to change his boots.
Obi-Wan looked dubiously at the fragile looking blades before moving to change his own footwear.
By the time he had finished tying the laces as securely as possible his Master was already waiting on the brink of the ice. Obi-Wan got up and wobbled over, feeling less and less certain with every unstable step.
"Have you ever done this before, Master?" he asked
Qui-Gon turned and grinned. The expression instantly transformed his face into a much younger version of itself, freed from the cares of years. "Once or twice."
And with that he pushed off onto the ice. He gathered speed with just two effortless strokes and then, to Obi-Wan's complete amazement, he leaped high into the air, revolved twice and landed catlike on one leg before gliding effortlessly away.
Obi-Wan gathered his chin from where it had fallen on his chest. 'Once or twice' indeed. Big show off. Well, two could play at that game. It didn't look that hard on a second look. Full of confidence now, Obi-Wan stepped out onto the ice.
And landed flat on his face.
Stunned, he pushed himself up. This ice was slipperier than it looked. Well no matter. He had it under control now. Bracing himself, Obi-Wan attempted to regain his feet.
Two seconds later he was flat on his back.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes, frustrated beyond belief. What was wrong with him? It couldn't be that hard. Must be that mulled wine. Yes that was it. The mulled wine. It appeared that he did have the tolerance of a womp rat after all.
A long shadow fell across his closed lids. "Having trouble, Obi-Wan?"
Obi-Wan opened his eyes and glared skyward at his Master. "Stop smiling and help me up. This isn't funny!"
That brought a full blown laugh and Qui-Gon reached down to pull his prone Padawan off the ice.
"So, you thought you could run before you could walk, did you?"
Obi-Wan had the grace to give him a chagrined look as he took his Master's arm in a death grip. His feet slid treacherously beneath him. "It was worth a try. How do people manage this?"
"With practice." Qui-Gon wrapped his arm around his Padawan's waist and held him steady as Obi-Wan got his balance. "Let's go and get some in."
And so it was, holding firmly onto his Master, Obi-Wan learned to skate.
For the first half hour he felt more awkward than he had in a long time. But Obi-Wan was nothing if not a quick learner and with the advantages of his Jedi training he was soon gliding along at his Master's side with ease. And he loved it.
In the end Qui-Gon turned to him. "Alright now, Padawan?"
"Yes." He skated away a few feet then turned, his blue-green eyes dancing with sudden mischief. "Race you to the other end!"
And without waiting for a response he sped away down the length of the lake.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of skating and laughter, interrupted just once when Qui-Gon left the lake to build a small snowman oddly resembling Master Yoda.
It was one of the happiest times Obi-Wan could remember having, and his Jedi layers stripped away like leaves on the breeze. There was nothing to worry about, no warring factions. Just him and his Master, being just Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, shamelessly gaming about like crèchelings on the ice surrounded by folk celebrating peace and goodwill.
No one was down. No one was miserable. Obi-Wan had not heard one angry exchange or cross word since venturing out. Good cheer prevailed. Such an atmosphere could not fail to lift the heart and Obi-Wan felt he was beginning to see what his Master meant. If the rest of the galaxy were to be like this then it would be a much better place indeed.
The winter sun had sunk far below the distant snowy hills when Qui-Gon finally called him back to the bank. Reluctant but tired, Obi-Wan followed his Master off the ice and changed back into his proper boots.
"Thank-you," he said when Qui-Gon came back from returning the skates. "I've enjoyed today, Master."
"You're welcome, my Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon touched his cheek. "There's no one else I would have preferred to share it with." He smiled suddenly. "Especially since you're the only one I can beat in a skating race even after giving you a ten meter head start!"
Obi-Wan scowled. "You didn't beat me. You moved the finish line!"
Qui-Gon laughed. "Believe what you will, Padawan, believe what you will. Now, I believe that there's going to be a gathering in the town hall this evening. Shall we go along and see if we can't find you something to eat."
Obi-Wan's indignation dissolved at the mention of food. He suddenly became aware that he was very hungry. "That sounds like a good idea to me, Master."
"I thought it might," Qui-Gon turned. "Come on then, Padawan. We'd better hurry."
His Master set off, but to Obi-Wan's surprise he did not go in the direction from which they had come. Instead he lead Obi-Wan on a route around the outskirts of the town.
Obi-Wan wondered at it but followed. He tried to guess at the latest lesson he was undoubtedly about to learn. Silently he trailed in Qui-Gon's footsteps, openly searching for what he might find out. The streets closed back around them, darkening with the failing light. Here the planet's poverty was thrown into sharp and terrible relief. If Obi-Wan had thought their accommodation was simple, the houses here were nothing more than dilapidated shacks.
And it was then that he got his first real look at misery on this planet.
They were just travelling up the last street of the slums when they came across a beggar shuffling slowly ahead of them.
He was old, blind and his emaciated body could not be concealed beneath the dirty rags he was dressed in.
Obi-Wan felt the joy of the afternoon drain instantly from him at the sight. He felt his heart must break. And when the weary voice started calling out pitifully for any scraps of food he knew it had.
They had to help him. Even before he'd formed the conscious thought he was ripping off his cloak and starting forward. But his Master caught his arm, stopping the motion.
Shocked Obi-Wan stared up at him. "But Master--"
"Wait," Qui-Gon said gently, his eyes betrayed the pain that he felt.
Suddenly a door to their right opened. A shabbily dressed woman rushed out towards the beggar. With no hesitation at all she thrust a flask of steaming liquid into the cracked old hands, removed her own meagre shawl and threw it around the old one's shoulders before leading him back to the waiting hut along side her.
The door closed.
Obi-Wan found himself blinking back sudden tears, feeling for an instant that he truly understood. He had met kings who would not do what that woman had just done. She had nothing but had gone out of her way to give everything she could to a stranger. Everything.
Obi-Wan was humbled to the core. He expected Qui-Gon to speak but his Master simply lead him on without a sound. No words needed to be said.
They met no one else until they reached the better parts of the town, drawing closer to the Hall. But Obi-Wan barely noticed a thing until Qui-Gon said softly, "Here we are, Obi-Wan."
The Padawan looked up and the sight that met his eyes was enough to draw a gasp from his lips and finally draw him from the mood he had fallen into. The town square could be described as nothing short of glorious. What had seemed pretty in the daylight now glowed with an incandescent beauty. Lights shone, candles flickered. The snow sparkled underfoot.
It took Obi-Wan's breath away. But there was no time to linger as Qui-Gon urged him forward. People were already gathered inside. Tearing his eyes away from the outdoor spectacle he moved forward eagerly, passing through the great wooden entrance. The hall itself was no less impressive than its exterior. The tradition of trees and lights followed the people indoors. The high beams were decked with boughs of handsome, polished green leaves and a huge log fire burned at the very centre, its flames casting a warm welcoming glow upon everything. Obi-Wan suddenly realised how cold he had been and he itched to warm his hands by those dancing flames. But the fire was quickly forgotten when his eyes fell on the banquet laid out along the far wall. His stomach growled. Force, he was hungry.
Qui-Gon chuckled. "Come, Padawan, let's get in line before you waste away."
Gathering two plates from a nearby pile, the two Jedi joined the queue winding around the buffet table.
As they stood in line Obi-Wan cast his eyes around at the room's occupants. His attention was captured almost immediately by a young couple kissing in the corner. His eyes travelled upwards and, yes, sure enough, there was the bunch of white berries.
"What is it about that tistlemoe?" he asked aloud.
Qui-Gon looked at him for a moment then a helpless smile crossed his face. "Mistletoe, Obi-Wan," he chuckled "It's called mistletoe. And it is a fond tradition."
"Very fond by the looks of things," Obi-Wan muttered dryly, but then fell silent because it was his turn at the table.
A short time and a very full plate later, Obi-Wan followed his Master back across the hall to find a quiet table in the corner. It was out of the way and from here they could watch all the proceedings while they ate.
And eat everyone did, the food was good and the mulled wine flowed. Even Obi-Wan had a couple of glasses between his trips to the buffet table.
Lively music began to play and soon many people were dancing with happy abandon. Unfortunately, Obi-Wan, relaxed by the mulled wine, chose that moment to get up for his third turn at the buffet. No sooner had he risen when he was snatched up by a young girl. Before he knew it her hand was in his and her other had clamped his spare arm firmly round her slender waist.
In total shock he was just dragged blindly along for the first few moments. Embarrassed beyond thought, he almost closed his eyes, sure that people would be able to feel the heat off his suddenly flaming cheeks. He felt as if the whole room's attention must be riveted upon him as he was chivvied across the dance floor. All he wanted was to get away and bury himself in a quiet corner and not come out until all had gone home.
But to pull away so suddenly would hurt the girl's feelings and attract more attention, so for the moment he let himself be twirled around the room, quickly trying to learn and keep up with the dance so as not embarrass himself further.
Strangely enough, after a few circuits he actually started to enjoy it. Later Obi-Wan would blame this on 'that mulled wine again'. But as the steps grew familiar and the music worked its magic through his system, his self-consciousness melted away as he realised nobody was really watching him. They had better things to do. Swaying and spinning almost as merrily as the rest he was somewhat disappointed when the dance ended.
Coming to a halt he at last mustered the courage to meet his partner's eyes and thank her. But as he did he felt his heart leap to his throat and his cheeks flame anew. For standing before him, still holding firmly onto his hands, was none other than the bold young lady who had winked at him from the open porch way of her house earlier that afternoon.
Like a deer caught in headlights, he was so shocked that he almost missed the gleam of triumph that flashed through her lovely chestnut eyes. And by the time it registered it was too late as she swept forward and planted a firm kiss square on his dumfounded lips.
Obi-Wan froze, unable to form a coherent thought as she pulled away and stood back. He opened his mouth to say something, but his usually eloquent mind had flat lined. His embarrassment rocketed but she only laughed merrily at his stunned expression then with another wink, disappeared back into the crowd without a word.
Obi-Wan stared after her, seemingly rooted to the spot. He stood for a moment longer, fighting his shock, then dared to glance up.
Ah! Force!
A bunch of misletoe was staring back at him. Was it possible for berries to look smug, he wondered.
He'd never get it.
Keeping his head ducked, he hurried back to where Qui-Gon was waiting at their table. He was so flustered that he had completely forgotten his original mission to the buffet. Quickly he sat down trying to look normal, but his cheeks only burned brighter and brighter as he felt Qui-Gon's eyes resting on him. It was to much to hope that Qui-Gon had not seen that.
"What?!" he demanded, spinning to pin his Master beneath a glare when he couldn't take it any longer.
Qui-Gon merely shrugged his eyebrows and shook his head faintly in a universal 'nothing' gesture, before turning away. Still, Obi-Wan could feel his great amusement and could not let him get away with it.
"Jealous," he murmured.
Qui-Gon's eyes shot round again in surprise, then crumbled into a bark of laughter. Obi-Wan tried to stay annoyed but the sound of his Master's joy made the embarrassment melt away and soon he was laughing too.
The Feast continued on well into the night only interrupted once briefly as a speaker stood upon a chair and gave a speech reminding everybody what they were all here to celebrate. The good king, peace, joy and love to all. At the end Obi-Wan raised his glass with the rest in toast. For it was good and it was right.
The contented hours slipped away, Obi-Wan found himself growing drowsy, lulled by the fire and a full stomach. All around him the people continued to celebrate. Children laughed. Heartfelt gifts were exchanged. Home, love, family. It sang through the very air of the room. Obi-Wan's heart filled and he found himself leaning closer to his own family.
"I love you, Master," Obi-Wan whispered drowsily against Qui-Gon's shoulder, beyond caring whether it was right to say or not.
His Master shifted and wrapped his arm warmly around Obi-Wan's waist, bringing him nearer. "I love you too, my Obi-Wan," he murmured into the soft, short hair.
His Padawan was nearly fast asleep on his seat.
"Come now, Obi-Wan," he said. "I think it's time we were getting home before you fall asleep completely."
Obi-Wan grunted an ascent and reluctantly clambered to his feet. Bed sounded really good right about now.
His Master laid a hand on his shoulder and steered him towards the door. The air outside was crisp and it woke Obi-Wan up somewhat, though his Master's steadying hand remained firm upon his shoulder, drawing him close when Obi-Wan shuddered against the cold. Slowly they made their way back up the path towards their log cabin. It was a weary walk, but tired as he was, Obi-Wan enjoyed the moment, his eyes travelled over the trees lining their route.
They were lovely. Little islands of light, made all the more beautiful by the darkness that surrounded them. The symbolism was not lost on Obi-Wan. Sighing he shrugged closer to Qui-Gon as the sweet voices of distant singers filled the air.
"You were right, Master," he said.
"About what, Padawan?"
Obi-Wan smiled and looked up at him with eyes shining bright. "It really is… magical."
Fin
Merry Christmas, everyone!