Chapter Three

Later that day Qui-Gon Jinn found himself back in the Room of a Thousand Fountains after spending most of the morning meditating with his master and trying to figure out how to deal with what he had done and experienced. He had noticed Dooku's own mood and thoughts had changed during their meditation and it left the Padawan concerned for him. When he had left to find solitude here, his master had been on their balcony, watching the flow of Coruscant traffic, brooding.

Qui settled at his usual spot by the pond and small waterfall but did not feel like meditating again. He had done enough already to last him a life time anyway and more meditation would only set back things. He needed to think and watching the trickling water and listening to the sounds of the garden was the best way for him to think.

I am attached to my master, he thought once he was comfortable on the river stone. It is the only explanation for why I did what I did. He wondered if Dooku realized that and even appreciated the thought that someone cared enough for him. Qui knew his master preferred solitude over company and the few friends the man had allowed to get close were less than the number of years that he had been Dooku's student.

He wasn't sure what he should do about his attachment to his master. He knew Yoda would probably tell him to let go, but the very thought of distancing himself from Dooku seemed so wrong and alien to him.

Yet it caused me to kill in anger and fear, he sighed heavily. Maybe he could remain attached as long as he kept control of his feelings whenever Dooku was hurt. Qui could not bring himself to think of his master as dead or killed.

"Can't even accept such a possibility, how am I suppose to keep control of my emotions then?" he asked himself and glared at the waterfall in frustration.

"What possibility?" asked the voice of his friend, Tahl. Qui-Gon's glare faded and he smiled warmly at her as she approached. She stopped beside him and placed a fist on her hip and gave him a stern look. "You missed breakfast."

He blushed sheepishly, "Sorry, Tahl. I've been meditating with Master Dooku." She gave him a playful grin before plopping down beside him.

"It's alright. I kinda figured he snatched you since he was looking for you this morning. So was he able to help?"

Qui sighed heavily and ran a hand through his short cropped hair. "A little. I think I know what is wrong though."

She waited for him to elaborate.

"Attachment," he added finally. "I'm attached, I thought..."

"That they had killed him?" Tahl finished and he nodded. Qui looked away and felt his friend place a hand on his arm gently.

"He's my master, I was too slow in warning him about the rocket grenade and they managed to capture us both," he explained and blew out a heavy breath. "If I had just been quicker or if I had been stronger in preventing myself getting caught, I could have stopped them from hurting him and I wouldn't have..."

Qui cut himself off before he said what he had done. He did not want Tahl to know that he had brushed the Darkside of the Force. It was bad enough Master Yoda and his master knew, he did not need his friend to think that he had failed to stay in control.

The young girl wrapped her arms around him in a firm embrace and Qui-Gon happily returned it. "Quit beating yourself up over what if's, Qui. You did what you could and what any Padawan would have done for their master. Believe me I probably would have done the same thing if it was my master instead." Tahl drew back from him to meet his blue gaze with her own green-gold flecked one. "Just learn from this and know what to do next time it happens. Force knows you and Master Dooku get in enough scrapes as it is, I doubt this will be the last time either of you are pushed to the limits."

A tiny smile ghosted the corner of his lips, "No, it won't be the last time." He then frowned as he considered something that had been said that morning. "I asked Master Dooku earlier if he would do the same for me."

"What was his answer?" Tahl patiently waited for her friend to answer. Qui seemed to struggle over telling her what had been said and what he had felt from his master when the man answered.

"He said he'd bring justice to those who'd hurt me, but..." the tall Padawan paused and let his gaze flicker to the water slowly trickling into the pond from a wayward stream that had managed to break away from the main one. It reminded him of his master and how he often broke away from the orthodox ways of the Jedi Order in order to fulfill the will of the Force. It landed him into more trouble than Qui-Gon could count and he often found himself agreeing with his Master's decisions.

Most of the time.

Qui-Gon looked back at his friend and continued, "I don't think he quite believes what he told me, Tahl. I mean... yesterday he said he would go against the Council and continue the investigation."

"That's not unusual for him."

Qui-Gon shook his head at her. "No, but he usually is not embarrassed like he was this time. I think he wants to nurse his pride and that's why the Council took the mission away from us."

"You think he wants to get revenge against the people who um... returned you two to us?" Qui-Gon nodded.

"It would not be the first time he's wanted revenge," he whispered while studying the river rock he sat on. "I barely managed to keep him from going through with it the last time and..." Qui-Gon paused and released a heavy sigh. He flicked his gaze back to the trickling water. "I don't want him to avenge me or himself, Tahl. I fear what it might do to him if he does."

The young Padawan girl placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile. "As long as he has you beside him, he'll be fine. You are the type of person that won't let someone do something stupid."

"Even though I often do the stupid?" he asked skeptically.

"Exactly why." Tahl grinned. "Now, come on. I have an hour before I have to tend to my library duties. Let's spar a little."

Qui-Gon nodded with a soft grin before climbing to his feet and following his friend. A bit of exercise through practicing would do him good and take his mind off of yesterday and his concerns for his master.


Emerald light splashed off the walls and the single occupant of the darkened training salon as the lightsaber was forced through rapid successions of the dying saber form, Makashi. The slashes and ripostes were as sharp and angry as the expression that Knight Dooku wore, the viridian illumination twisting it into an almost sinister look.

He had spent the early hours of the morning brooding over what had happened to him and his Padawan before coming here, displeased with how a simple escort mission had gone horribly wrong and humiliating. His concern for Qui-Gon was dwarfed by his wounded pride and just knowing that he cared more about rectifying that injury to himself, only made him more angry.

His half naked body glistened with sweat as he forced it through a series of katas, spins and a finishing leap that had him kneeling on a knee with the green blade held over his head in a defensive guard. His chest heaved from the exertion and it was a minute before he gathered himself and climbed back to his feet. The lightsaber hung loosely at his side, humming quietly and soothing his thoughts as he focused on the sound.

Pushing back the memories of the mission and focusing on what was more important, Dooku knew why Qui-Gon had lashed out at the mercenaries and it warmed his heart that the boy cared enough to want to avenge him, but he knew such attachment was dangerous and not because of the potential for loss either. The sting of his childhood friend's betrayal was still a fresh wound in his heart, recently reopened not too long ago, and Dooku loved his Padawan just enough to want the young man to never feel that kind of pain. But how does one force a growing child to hold someone they love at arms length?

Dooku raised his lightsaber up into the traditional salute of his form before going through another series of maneuvers while he thought about the puzzle. A part of him wanted to get closer to the boy and let the boy get close to him, but the pain of the past betrayal was far too great for him to push past. He did not want Qui-Gon to feel what he had felt and as he slashed at the air in front of him, he realized that the young man would if he pushed the boy away.

Dooku blinked in the green illuminated darkness, his breath coming heavy, and simply stared at the lightsaber in front of him. The boy loved him and here he was plotting on how to distance that love so it wouldn't become the double-edged sword that the emotion could be. He would become Qui-Gon's Lorian Nod if he kept him at arms length.

The Jedi scowled and spun around to repeat the exercise, each swing growing more violent as he silently chided himself. As his thoughts grew angrier, his motions reflected his temperament.

He stabbed the air harshly. The boy loved him, that's why he touched the Darkside.

He blocked an imaginary strike from overhead before sliding the blade against the pain of his heart and riposting with a quick angry slash. Attachments were far too important to his Padawan, how could he force his pain and experience on the child?

He spun around and parried Lorian's gold lightsaber and snarled his anger and frustration. He could not bring himself to hurt the boy just so he could teach him that lesson.

His strikes were powerful and less fluid and graceful as he battered away at his hated friend's defenses. He would not hurt the boy!

His blade came down upon the source of his pain accompanied by an angry cry. He would not betray the boy!

He would not become Lorian!

Dooku panted and blinked the sweat from his eyes before he realized that his lightsaber had met resistance on that last strike. Once the haze of his fury against his imagination had faded from his sight, he stared in shock at where his weapon ended up in the mock fight with his childhood friend and his own internal struggle to trust and be trusted.

Before him, his felled opponent stood silently, cleaved from neck to torso, sparks sputtering where the blade was stuck and melting into the thin phrik casing. Horrified that he had allowed his fury to get the better of him and that the training droid could easily have been a person, Dooku yanked his weapon free and back peddled several feet before drowning himself in the darkness of the salon, emerald light fading into the hilt with a sucking hiss.

It had been a long time since he had ever allowed himself to let go like that, to let his passions rule his actions. Dooku closes his eyes as the ghost of his past rose up to remind him of how exactly he had allowed his anger to hurt someone. The pained cry of his former friend echoed in his ears after his gold training saber had landed harshly on the boy's back, that, he had to admit, if it had been a real lightsaber he would have murdered his friend that day with the cleaving blow meant to bisect an opponent. The fact he had allowed that old wound to open up again over the thought that he was becoming like Lorian to his Padawan unsettled him.

Dooku stared into the darkness at his unlit lightsaber, feeling its cold image of antiquity and curves, he was disgusted with himself. His weapon had been used in anger and fear and it had been by the grace of the Force that no one had been hurt during his furious practice. His own attachment to the boy had brought about the strong feelings and memories of the past.

With a heavy sigh, Dooku flicked the lights on with a gesture of a hand and walked over to the bench his affects were resting. He dropped the lightsaber onto his tunic and cloak as he picked up a towel and a water bottle. He took the time to dry himself of the sweat and quench his parched mouth to clear his thoughts and think about how he could help his Padawan deal with his attachments without giving in to the same anger he felt at hurting the boy.

Then again he was uncertain if he could while he wanted to give in to his feelings for the boy. How could he teach if he hasn't learned the lesson himself? Oh he knew what would become of it, eventual betrayal, but not how to handle the loss. He had not learned it as a Padawan so how could he teach it?

"I don't know what to do," he whispered quietly and allowed his shoulders to sag in defeat. He knew where he could get advice on the matter but also knew the answer the little troll would give and he had always been set against that philosophy. It had not helped him, rather it had simply allowed the wound to fester and explode into a furious rage to the point of nearly embracing the dark and committing murder. He had let go but the issue had not been resolved for him.

He had lost a friend and his childhood and he had, since then, been unable to open up to anyone else and trust again. Qui-Gon was the closest he's ever gotten to allowing himself to trust but it was limited. He did not confide in the boy his troubles though he often told himself it was because of a confidence a Padawan needed to have in his master. The truth be told, he could not bring himself to trust the boy with his secrets, his fears, his pain, or his desires. What Lorian had done to him had sealed that trusting side of himself into an inescapable vault and Dooku knew that if he was going to be able to teach his Padawan on how to handle attachment, he was going to have to learn himself.

Truly learn it.

And trust the boy like he had trusted a friend once.