Entry IX

Knightly Walks

I hadn't been walking long when the astromech droid that had first saved the ship crossed my path. Despite a furrowed brow, I found myself smiling at the little droid. R2-D2 was strolling through the hallways, whistling softly to himself. He gave an upbeat chirp as he passed me, and if I hadn't known any better, I could have sworn he nodded his head in acknowledgement of my presence—if he had a head and neck in which to do so, of course. How odd, I thought to myself, resuming my wandering. A droid with personality.

Eventually, the soft chiming of the dinner bell—and my nose—led me towards the kitchen. Surprisingly, the queen and her handmaidens were gracing us with their presences in the dining hall, albeit secluded in a corner. By the looks of the highly-stacked plates, a sort of feast had been prepared; no doubt in celebration of our successful departure from that horrid desert planet.

Rounding the corner to the serving line, I nearly collided with the boy Anakin as he came out on the wrong side. He gathered his bearings quickly, passing me a rather embarrassed and shaky half-grin, and then scurried away as fast as his short legs could carry him; the faint echoes of a murmured "Excuse me" wafted back to my ears. I watched him briefly over my shoulder as he navigated carefully through the throng of people, tables, and chairs that littered the dining hall, a plate heaped full of steaming delights clutched fervently in those two small hands. Scanning the room quickly, I found Qui-Gon to be nowhere in the vicinity. Somehow, I knew not to be surprised. I quite nearly shrugged as I let the concern and implications of it all float free of my already raging mind.

The dinner turned out to be marvelous indeed. In a pathetic attempt to distract myself, I sat with Jono and a few of the other pilots and crewman, including a mechanic that was just recuperating from a blaster wound he had sustained during our initial escape from the Theed Palace hanger bay. The mechanic—Satru, I believe was his name—explained to us everything he had learned from the memory bank of the witty R2 unit I had crossed paths with earlier. It turned out that, amongst other happenings, Anakin was a freed slave (freed by Qui-Gon, no less) whom had left his mother behind to pursue a future career as a Jedi.

Well wasn't that interesting...

As careful as I was to try and hide my bewilderment, it still didn't prevent my brow from furrowing further.

What exactly was Qui-Gon up to? Truly? There was obviously more to this than met the eye.

Suddenly finding my food to be rather bland, I left the table with my trash and, on a whim, proceeded back to the serving line. Behind me, the mechanic was talking animatedly about some protocol droid that the boy had supposedly constructed from scratch.

Or so said the silver and blue astromech.

The serving line was empty when I came back through it. Unperturbed, I called out. "Hello? Is anyone still back there?"

A somewhat heavy-set man poked his bent nose around a corner, his chef's hat hanging crooked over his head. "The main meal is over," he said. "Cold snacks are in the cupboard as always. No more service from the galley staff until tomorrow's breakfast. Unless it's for the queen," he added quickly, stepping away from the wall when he noticed I hadn't left yet. He squinted slightly, as though trying to see better, then straightened considerably. "Master Jedi! Ah—may I help you? Were you displeased by your dinner?"

He sounded unnerved to have me back in his station for a second time.

"The dinner was superb, Master Chef," I said, inclining my head in respect. "I came back to inquire if it would be at all possible for me to take a plate back to my master, Qui-Gon Jinn."

"Jedi Jinn, you say?" He squinted again, as though he expected to see the older man somewhere behind me. "Ah—that would be, ah—well…ah, if you don't mind me asking—how much does he eat exactly?"

"What?" Somehow I got the impression that there was more to that innocent question than what could be seen on the surface.

"Ah—well—not to be nosy, you see, but, ah—well, he did get a heaping plateful earlier."

"You mean he's already been in here to eat?" I thought I had gotten here relatively on time. Had he managed to slip in and back out before I arrived? How did I miss him?

"Well, no. It was, ah—it was…what's his name? Ama? Aha…? Ana—"

"Anakin?" I ventured to guess, just barely—barely—restraining a roll of my eyes.

"Yes, yes," he agreed enthusiastically. "I believe he, ah—left with a plate for your master Jedi just before you arrived."

For the briefest of seconds, I pinched the bridge of my nose, hoping to stop a headache before it began that I knew was bound to spring up sooner or later. I much preferred the option of it coming later. Much, much later… "Of course," I said to the chef when I noticed I was making him nervous. "Thank you." Bowing, my hands tucked resolutely in the wide sleeves of my cloak, I turned and left the dining hall.

What a day, I thought. It was quite nearly as bad as that time during initiate training when Garen and Reeft had dared me to stick my head between the railings of a banister on a seldom-used stairway. Bant had been against it the whole time, of course, so when my head became stuck, she was the one who stayed behind to help; Garen and Reeft had taken off. It was only after Bant had started using my training saber to slowly burn through the supports pinning me that we realized what they had gone to do: Garen and Reeft returned just a short while later with two of the youngling masters. I'm not sure who was more embarrassed that day—myself for getting stuck, or Garen and Reeft when they were ratted out by faithful Bant. Those two trouble makers were given punishment for a week; I got off easy: the masters thought getting my head stuck was enough punishment in itself.

Surprisingly, by the time I pulled out from my reminiscing, I was standing just short of Qui-Gon's cabin. The door was just slightly ajar, allowing soft voices to float out. I sensed only two presences; by the sound of the voices and the words spoken, it was easy to confirm that neither Ric nor Panaka were one of the cabin's occupants.

"Are you okay now?"

"Yes, sir." A sniffle.

"You are a brave young man, Ani. Your mother is very proud of you."

"Thank you, sir." Another sniffle. "I'm sorry; I just really miss Mom."

"I understand."

The muted sound of a hand patting clothing touched my ears. I could easily picture the large, calloused palm as it rubbed circles on that small back.

"Master Qui-Gon, sir?"

Was that a twitch? I think I just twitched…

"Yes, Ani?"

"Who is the other Jedi Knight? Are you partners?"

"He is not a Knight. He is only a student who is learning under me."

And partners? Are we not partners, Qui-Gon?

Yes, that was definitely another twitch that captured my right eye.

"So he is your student? Isn't he a little…old? Did he fail a course or something? A couple of courses?" The boy asked this latter question in a much softer voice, but I had already tuned him out.

Old! Failed! Why that little—

"Obi-Wan has been my apprentice for over a decade now. He is an apt student. He will be taking his trials soon to be knighted and I will no longer be his master. He has done much to be proud of."

Was that wistfulness I heard in his voice? Sorrow? Regret? Why wouldn't Qui-Gon just let me in!

Slowly and quietly so as not to alert them, I placed my hot forehead against the cool durasteel wall and laid my palms on either side. There is no emotion, there is peace; there is no emotion, there is peace; there is—

Noise. Shuffling. Footsteps.

I backed away from the wall in time to see Panaka stroll around a distant corner, headed towards the cabin he shared with Ric and my master. A friendly smile stole onto his stoic features when eye contact was initiated. I nodded in both greeting and farewell, then turned in the opposite direction to head towards my own cabin. I could just make out a soft sigh of appreciation as I fell out of hearing range.

"Thank you, Ani. Dinner was delicious."

I couldn't sleep. Calm meditation was just as elusive. I needed to be moving.

Because when I closed my eyes, he was there: the horned beast.

At this hour of the night, the only lights tended to be from the guiding lamps. These small lights were usually placed on the edge of the floor—or sometimes along the tops of walls—and followed whatever trajectory was taken. They lit the pathway just enough to keep the walker from running into things, but were no good for practically everything else. So when a light at the end of the hallway caught my eye, I also let it catch my path and soon found myself peering into the bridge. Standing before a console, still in her bright orange robe, was handmaiden Padmé; she was deeply engaged by the hologram of Sio Bibble as it continuously played, re-looping every few seconds. I cleared my throat softly, not wanting to startle her too terribly bad. For some odd reason, I felt like being a little more sociable at this odd time of the night than I usually was during reasonable day-light hours. More proof, I guessed, for why I was a night person and not a morning one. Now, if only ­Qui-Gon would come to accept it.

"Jedi Kenobi!" the handmaiden exclaimed when she saw me standing in the doorway. I watched her turn away, trying to conceal what I already knew. I said nothing as she attempted to hide the tears that were obviously there, giving her the benefit of the doubt. Before turning back, she cut the hologram's looping and cast a glance over her shoulder at a sleeping Anakin (who, I discovered, had taken refuge here for the night). Was it just me, or was there something in the way she looked at the boy?

Swiftly covering the few steps it took to where I was, she re-dimmed the lights on the bridge and began walking, expecting me to fall into step. Suddenly, I found that I wasn't sure of what I should say. Luckily, she was.

"I've heard that the Jedi have unparalleled stamina, but I didn't expect to find them roaming the halls of a ship deep in slumber at ungodly hours of the night."

Heat rose up from my neck to my cheeks; thankfully, I didn't think she could see this is the dim lighting. There were a couple of ways that statement could be interpreted…but it was best not to think about that.

"And I never expected to find a diligent, loyal handmaiden walking the hallways at night, either, when her queen might request her full attention and service the following day."

Oh…was that a reprimand? Good move, Oafy!

I waited for the sarcastic comment that I was sure would come, but received instead a—somewhat—withering glare. Either she was being nice or she was in actuality too tired to care. I thought the benefit of the doubt was indeed the best way to go again….

Inclining my head slightly, I averted my eyes in apology.

We rounded a corner and kept walking; our pace was a comfortable stroll, as though we had been friends for years instead of beings that had only recently met and spoken perhaps only half a dozen words to one another up until that moment.

"Master Jinn trusts his instincts devotedly."

Was that a touch of sarcasm I caught?

One corner of my mouth twitched in amusement. If she only knew...

"Qui-Gon has always been…a mite unorthodox in his endeavors. His habits can be…taxing at times to one's patience, but more often than not he turns out to be correct in his assumptions. My master is one of the Jedi Order's greatest."

Despite all my training, despite all our recent problems, bragging about Qui-Gon Jinn was still one of my favorite pastimes. (Of course, complaining about him seemed to rank pretty high on the list as well.) "You'll find he grows on you," I added to my earlier thoughts, and looked down to see the handmaiden raise an eyebrow and give a quirky grin that I hadn't seen on her serene features before.

"I'm afraid he already has," Padmé laughed quietly. We turned down the left side of a forked hallway, in the direction of the droid storage compartment (which was now empty because R2-D2 stayed in the queen's company and the rest of the astromechs had been destroyed at our journey's onset). "He is a very compassionate man," Padmé continued, almost somewhat forced as though she didn't want to reveal what was happening inside her head. "I imagine most Jedi are."

From the corner of my eye, I just caught the look she passed me. Unsure of how to respond to that, I kept my mouth closed and gave a subtle nod of my head.

"Master Jinn and Shmi—"

"Shmi?"

"Anakin's mother." Something under her surfaced bristled, as though she wasn't used to being interrupted.

"Oh."

"Master Jinn and Shmi seemed connected on some deep level, if you don't mind me saying so."

"No, not at all. Please, continue." Yes, continue. Because I have no idea what you are talking about...

"I'm not sure I would call it love—"

"Love is forbidden for the Jedi."

No bristle that time. Instead, only surprise.

"Really?" Padmé stopped short to stare at me. "All love? Even between two Jedi? How lonely!"

"Well—" How to explain it? The answer was 'yes' and 'no'. I loved my master, yet like him, I was not allowed to love another—I could not love Siri; he could not have loved Tahl when she was alive. Yet we both had broken the rules at one point. Like Master, like Padawan as the old saying goes, I guess. It was, in actuality, compassion that we really felt…or at least that's what I'd been taught.

Padmé must have seen the multitude of thoughts racing across my eyes and face, because she waved a hand in dismissal and began walking again. "That's okay; forget that I asked." She turned in the direction of the queen's personal cabins and I realized our talk would soon be over.

"No, it was not love between your master and Anakin's mother, but perhaps it was a mutual understanding. It is why I stated that he is a compassionate man—to be able to connect like that with a complete stranger. Shmi is a brave woman to let her only child go off with a man she just met to pursue a life that is wholly foreign to the both of them. Especially considering that she is now alone and still a slave to that awful Watto. Master Jinn must know how if feels to give your heart away to someone and then lose them."

"Never give your heart away completely to anyone, Obi-Wan. It only ends in devastating pain."

The realization hit me like a durasteel brick. In some way, Qui-Gon must have been reminded of Tahl by Shmi's own heart-wrenching goodbye…which lent some renewed hope to the idea that this rift between my master and I would be healed in due time.

"Jedi Kenobi?"

"Pardon?" Padmé was standing just inside a doorway, a worried expression etched onto her face. I realized she'd been trying to garner my attention for a while now.

"I said, 'Thank you for keeping me company.' Kind dreams to you, Jedi Kenobi."

"I wish you the same, milady." I bowed and swept off to my quarters. By the time morning came, I was still searching for those "kind dreams".

I was stuck in the seemingly never-ending world of my least favorite part of every mission: Waiting. Whether it was waiting for action, waiting for news, waiting for a meeting, or any other numerous numbers of things, I absolutely abhorred it. 12 years of apprenticeship to the endlessly calm Qui-Gon Jinn had helped somewhat, but not to the extent needed to fill my bottomless pit of impatience. Qui-Gon had told me many times that all it required was time…but didn't time also require patience? What irony! And what luck….

Sleep had remained a rare commodity for me the past few days. Mainly for one reason alone—

The beast from Tatooine had started coming much more rapidly and consistently. To keep him from my mind's eye, I paced the ship at night (Padmé and I did not run into each other a second time) and meditated throughout much of the day to keep my strength up. This helped calm me somewhat and refocused my attention back on the mission. It also provided a valid excuse to squirt the curious, prying eyes of both Qui-Gon and Anakin. And really anyone else for that matter.

On my walks throughout the ship, however, I came to realize where my visions of the horned beast were coming from: Qui-Gon. Still as protective as ever, I visited his cabin at least once a night to send Force-enhanced suggestions of sleep and calm to his weary, raging mind. I was always careful—careful to be quiet so as not to wake the cabin's three slumbering occupants—and careful that my master never discovered my late night retreats to his room. I did my best not to make contact with anything but the floor; to do so would be to leave my Force-signature behind for Qui-Gon to read. I was sure, however, that if he really just took the time to clear his mind and focus, my personal insignia would rise up from the highly-polished durasteel floors and stab him blatantly—mercilessly—in the gut.

Sithspit…What a choice of words to have…I could have kicked myself for thinking such thoughts.

But oh, Force…What a choice...

Many, many thanks to the wonderful reviews of The Jedi Princess, Lady Larken, AAvatar,Jade Rhade, Vespa, and Katieelessar (especially you Katieelessar for reminding me to get on the ball! LOL). For those who are curious, the Obi/Qui angst is definitely brewing, especially considering they'll be arriving on Coruscant soon as we all know what happened there. I've already written up to Entry XII (the group is just getting back to Naboo in that entry), but because I don't know how long it will take me to write the Duel of the Fates scene, I've decided to take my time posting up to that point. I will probably post one more time before I leave to go out of town on the 28th of this month. I start my first year of college around mid/late August, so my biggest goal is to complete the writing part of this story before then. I managed to write the Council scene fairly quickly with results that--personally--turned out very satisfactory in my opinion, so I'm hoping the DotF will be just as easy. (Though I doubnt it!) Anyway, I'll stop yacking my jaw now. I hoped ya'll enjoyed this entry. As always, please let me know what you think and MTFBWY!

--Marie K.