The child's feet are too big. It is the only cause that Yoda can come up with to explain the wild, slightly dangerous and ridiculously clumsy flail that is Qui-gon's current method of getting around. Force… almost decapitate the Windu boy, he did… Yoda smiles, amused, at the dirty look the five-year-old Korun boy is giving the gangly youngster.

"Watch it, Qui," the darker child growls, earning himself an equally thunderous look.

"Worry about yourself, Mace." The Windu boy is on his feet in an instant, tiny hands balled into fists, dark eyes flashing, but Qui-gon is spared from a royal thrashing by his own two giant flippers as he crashes to the ground, having tried to pivot around to face his nemesis.

Yoda can't help but smirk at Mace's response. The youngling only rolls his eyes, anger disappearing with a muttered "clumsy oaf". Qui-gon merely glares upward as the other boy passes him. For how tall he is at his age, Yoda imagines that he spends a fair amount of time in such a position. Yoda hobbles through the garden entrance, warily taking a cautious look around to make sure he isn't about to be accosted by Master Hu Shiik. The clan master is known for his strong protective streak, and despite Yoda's own esteemed position, the other Jedi has never hesitated to make his opinion of Yoda's repeated visits known.

Having quickly verified that the coast is clear and that he'll have at least a few precious minutes to invade the younglings' free time, Yoda makes his way towards young Qui-gon. The boy is still on the ground, only he has turned so that he is flat on his back and staring up into the bows of one of the garden's older trees. Older as in taller and more billowy. "Angry at your friend, are you?" he asks once he is only a few feet away.

The child gives an adorable little jolt of surprise and recovers admirably with a casual sideways glance. "No, master."

"Oh?" Yoda shuffles forward the remaining distance and gingerly lowers himself to the soft grass beneath the tree. Qui-gon may not be angry, precisely, but there is no mistaking the obvious agitation surrounding him. "Then angry at this tree, you must be."

Qui-gon doesn't laugh, but he does smile a little. "That would be silly."

Yoda snorts, both pleased and heartened by such a blunt reply. "Then what are you angry at, young one?"

Qui-gon lets out a long sigh, his little shoulders shifting slightly as his chest rises and falls. His gaze grows thoughtful. "My feet don't do what they are supposed to."

As if his feet have minds of their own. Yoda laughs inwardly while trying to keep a straight face. He has to admit that there is a kernel of truth to the boy's words: his feet certainly do appear to be defective. "Growing, you still are."

The boy frowns, glaring at his feet. "Some of me is growing faster than the rest. Does this tree have flowers?"

Yoda is thrown by the change of topic, but he quickly recovers. "No, I do not think it does, young one. Wish to look at some flowers, do you?"

Qui-gon smiles and nods, propping himself up on his elbows. "Yes, master."

Yoda gestures and begins to walk deeper into the garden. He hears Qui-gon get to his feet and begin to follow him. "Your favorite, which flower is?"

"The small white ones."

Yoda has no idea which flowers the boy is referring to, but the answer was quick and without hesitation. He looks up and catches the boy's eyes. "Lead us to them, you should."

Some younglings might have been intimidated by the Grandmaster asking them to lead the way, but Qui-gon only grins happily and takes the lead. In a matter of seconds he has bounded into the underbrush and Yoda has lost sight of him. He returns a short time later with a sheepish smile. "Sorry, master…"

Yoda chuckles quietly. "Excited, you are. Many years ago, keep up with younglings I could. Now older and slower, I am."

Qui-gon doesn't seem to know what to do with those comments and Yoda has a funny feeling that the boy is trying to decide whether he should respond or change the topic. It would certainly explain the rather comical look on his face. The youngling eventually settles on a drawn out "hmmm" followed by, "Follow me, master!" This time he stays within range and Yoda follows after him.

Within minutes they arrive at a small brook with some short, lightly colored plants growing on the banks. A few of them have begun to sprout tiny, pinwheel flowers the color of Cin Drallig's hair. The boy had called them white, but they are more of a light cream that looks white at first glance. Yoda finds them oddly endearing. "Your favorite, these are?" he inquires, catching Qui-gon's eye.

The child is wearing a soft smile that is even more endearing than the flowers he's admiring. "Yes. Some of the other boys tease me, because they think that boys shouldn't like flowers so much."

He says it so casually that Yoda is caught off guard. Young Jinn does not seem remotely bothered by the unflattering remarks. "Bother you, this does not."

A slight shake of the head as Qui-gon sits down and reaches out to gently touch one of the plants is answer enough, but he pats the ground next to him as well. Amused, Yoda lowers himself to the ground.

"They only say that because they can't hear them."

Qui-gon is staring at the tiny flowers, enraptured by something of theirs, and Yoda knows that his own face mirrors that of the boy's. The difference is that he is staring at the youngling instead of at the flowers. "Hear them?" he murmurs, still staring. He can't help himself.

This earns him a look that, at least on an adult, Yoda would label as 'exasperated'. One Qui-gon it only makes him look surprised. "You can't? But you're so old… er… sorry," he mumbles. The contrition lasts for only a short moment, though, before his brows crinkle and he fixes Yoda with a stern look. "You should know what all flowers sound like."

Despite himself, Yoda feels as if he's been thoroughly chastised. He only blinks. "Perhaps. But tell you that I can't hear them, I did not," he casually replies. He notes the slight pink that's creeping into the boy's cheeks, but continues anyway. "Hear them, I can. Surprised, I was, that you hear them too."

He has no doubt that if the Windu boy were sitting here in Qui-gon's place, he would now be on the receiving end of a furious, defensive explanation of some sort. Not so with Jinn. Instead, he's on the receiving end of another warm smile only slightly belied by the boy's obvious confusion. They stay that way for what seems a good long while, before Yoda sighs. Qui-gon echoes him and then turns his attention back to the flowers. "I like these ones the most, because they're happy. I mean, there are other flowers that sound happy, but they're not. With these ones I can tell they're not lying."

Having been so intrigued by the youngling, Yoda has yet to actually listen to the flowers and so he takes a moment to do just that. He has to admit, young Qui-gon has a point. There is nothing fake or deceiving about the song these flowers are singing. It's a catchy tune, but Yoda doesn't know how anyone could catch it precisely. The notes are both high and low, hurried and lazy, patterned and random. Like any other plant, these flowers do contain their own signature, but Yoda is amazed that Qui-gon has been able to separate it from the rest of the garden's plants. Most come in and simply listen to the song and let it soothe them. Qui-gon doesn't seem to want to be soothed (perhaps he simply doesn't need soothed at his age), but instead is intent on learning the song and what each part belongs to.

The old, billowy tree sings too. A low, sonorous note that that it's had since it was only a sapling. Yoda remembers it because he helped to plant this particular garden. His mouth is moving before his brain can catch up to stop it. "Old Yoda, a song he also has…" he stops to again glance sideways at the child. "Like Yoda's song, do you?" And why even ask? The boy is too young for such questions. Too young to have the necessary restraint to prevent hurt, to prevent distance from forming. Too young to see the pain that his words might cause. Too young to know that Yoda is, against his better nature (of which his former padawan insists no one has), taking advantage of all of these things. He asks because Qui-gon will answer. Older people would avoid the question or attempt to soften the answer. Not so with young ones, and Yoda is well aware of this.

Frighten you, do I, young one?

Qui-gon is in the middle of inspecting one of the smaller flowers, eyes narrowed in focus, and so it takes a minute before he blinks and glances over. Yoda is once again faced with that strange smile laced with puzzlement. "… yes."

Yoda's heart does an odd little jump and his gut knots itself tight. What does that mean? Just yes? That's another thing about asking children such questions: the answers are often too shallow to satisfy. Too simple. He's glad of the answer, but frustrated by its simplicity. Perhaps when little Jinn is older and wiser he'll ask again. Then he won't have to veil his inquiry in vivid imagery. He can be blunt and actually ask what he means: Do I frighten you? Am I lying? Can you fix it? But those are questions for adults, not children. Especially not this child. He is still too joyful and too innocent.

"Storms have songs too, you know." Qui-gon is tracing a lazy pattern in the damp ground close to the creek. His eyes are back on the flowers. "Remember that storm we had a little while ago?"

"Yes." It had been a rather angry one too. Hard rain, crackling spears of lightning, black clouds, and booming thunder. Yoda hadn't slept. "Loud, it was."

Qui-gon's soft smile straightens a bit. "Yeah… Master Hu talked to me about it. I couldn't sleep… I was scared at first because the lightning seemed so close. I went over to his bed. I knew I would be safe next to him… his song is almost like these flowers, but it changes sometimes. Sometimes it's a little sadder…" He trails off and the smile makes a brief appearance again. "But he doesn't lie. All I did was stand there next to his bed and I was okay again. He woke up after a little bit and we watched out of the window together."

Yoda smiles a little. Yes, Hu Shiik is like that. Offering comfort and protection without actually offering words of comfort and safety. "And?"

"He told me about thunderstorms."

Yoda mentally slaps himself. He isn't talking to Yan. He is talking to a boy who likes flowers and who says only 'yes' to the deepest of inquiries. There are no hidden meanings. "Sing, they do?"

Qui-gon's finger stops its lazy wanderings and he looks at Yoda with wide eyes. "Oh yes. Very loud. But Master Hu says it's because they're sad and frustrated. He says thunderstorms don't understand why they should still keep bringing rain even though everything still dries up or dies. So they're yelling at the grass and the trees and the flowers to behave themselves and stay green. They're so loud and angry because they are sad." He smiles again, but this one is tinged with sadness. "Thunderstorms don't have to yell at these flowers, though."

"And why not? Grow weak, they still do." Yoda finds that he's enjoying this discussion about flowers and thunderstorms and caring clan masters.

Qui-gon's face takes on a tight, rigid structure that feels entirely out of place. "They only live for one day, master," he murmurs. "There isn't time for the storm to be mad at them. Sometimes Master Hu lets me come in and clean up all of the dead ones when I'm not sleeping well. They die when it gets dark."

Oh. Yoda watches and waits for more. He isn't disappointed.

"I think that's why I like them the most. They don't have time to lie about anything. They only have time to live and sing for a day."

Hu Shiik picks that moment to shout briefly that it's time to head to the cafeteria for lunch. Both of them stand up and begin walking back through the dense shrubbery they came through. Yoda stops before they clear it and winks at the boy. "See me, he must not. Protective, he is."

Qui-gon smiles and giggles a little. "But you're older than he is, and much stronger."

Yoda smiles. "Thank you, young one, for showing me your flowers."

Qui-gon nods and murmurs a shy 'you're welcome' before stepping into the clearing and making his way towards the rest of his clan. He turns and runs back after a slight hesitation. "Master, you felt mad when I told you I liked your song…" he starts.

Yoda cocks his head. "Mad, I was not. Asked you a difficult question, I did."

"It didn't seem very hard." Qui-gon studies the grass as he continues. "I like thunderstorms now, too. Once you understand them, they're not so bad."

Yoda blinks, wincing a bit at the implication. He is too young to imply something like that isn't he? "True," he concedes. So why hadn't he been able to sleep that night? Qui-gon didn't need to know that even the Grandmaster of the Order was kept up by a mere storm.

"The tree we were by before sings too, but it's a lying tree. Lying is bad, but sometimes I think that the older something gets the sadder it gets and then it has to lie. I asked Master Hu why it has to lie. He said it's to spare others pain." Qui-gon looks up from his study of the ground. His eyes are bright, bluer than ever, and glinting with something that Yoda knows he himself lost when he got old. "I told him that someone who hasn't felt as much pain could probably take some of it away for them."

Yoda is staring at this boy as if he's grown five more heads. No. Take this from me, you will not, young one! Qui-gon would be ruined. His joy would turn to sorrow much too fast and that glint in his eyes would be snuffed out of existence. "Do too much, you must not."

"Come along, Qui-gon." The deep, rough-edged voice belongs to Hu Shiik. Yoda finds him leaning against a tree a few yards away. They had been too engrossed in their conversation to notice him. Hu straightens and approaches them, unhurried but obviously intent in his purpose. His wild, dark hair shifts and waves as he walks. The only outward signs that he is anything other than human are his two extra fingers on each hand and his striking green eyes that are just a touch darker than Yoda's but no less vivid. They are wild eyes, but their intensity is a comfort rather than a cause of fear.

Qui-gon spares Hu a glance before looking at Yoda one last time before he turns to go. His eyes are still glinting, still bluer than blue, but they've hardened a touch. There is a resolve there that Yoda marvels at. "You can't stop me," he murmurs, too quiet for Hu to hear, but plenty loud for Yoda. He gifts the ancient Jedi with one last brilliant smile and then allows Hu to gently steer him towards the exit. Hu nods in respect, but there is even a glint in the clan master's eyes that tells Yoda that he knows just what sort of an effect Qui-gon is having. Maybe the clan master did hear.

"Good day, master," he says in his rumbling tenor.

"And to you," Yoda responds, still staring at the back of this boy with two left feet. Do too much, you do, little Jinn.

Thanks for reading! I already have another chapter written that I'll post next week sometime. Let me know what you think! :)