Thank you, MacGordon93!
Chapter 4 - Health
Qui-Gon was about the same age as Master Ali-Alann, and it twisted his gut to see the man be torn a new one by Master Che.
Ali-Alann was a steady man with more compassion in his pinkie finger than most people could survive experiencing.
So Qui-Gon knew that what Ali-Alann was thinking of himself was far worse than anything Master Che could say.
Eating disorders were not common for younglings, though they occasionally happened for older Jedi who experienced violence or horrors.
For people like Sifo-Dyas, sometimes visions, but still, it was rare for younglings and to Ali-Alann's credit, nothing had appeared to be wrong with Obi-Wan aside from disrupted sleep.
When the elder twi'lek healer took a breath, Qui-Gon jumped in, "We can't change what happened. What we should be asking is why Obi-Wan developed these issues and what can we do moving forward?"
Che had to take a breath before saying, "I cannot find a cause."
Ali-Alann remained tense, "I assume visions but as far as I know, he hasn't confided in anyone. Quinlan Vos was his closest friend, they shared issues, and their gifts complemented each other."
"Complemented how?" Qui-Gon asked.
Ali-Alann sighed. "Quinlan is a powerful touch clairvoyant and Obi-Wan has always been gifted in shielding. They could share bed without bleeding into one another while still offering comfort. It's why Obi-Wan moved out of the main room of the creche earlier than the others. Quinlan's case has always been unusual, seeing as Tholme has been his Master and even began training him on his own homeworld. He was always an outsider in the creche, Obi-Wan too, for different reasons."
"For what reasons?" Qui-Gon asked.
Ali-Alann shrugged, "Obi-Wan has a habit for perfectionism. Anything taught to him he soaked up like a sponge and if he didn't understand something, he pursued Masters for help in understanding. He's always been rather unintimated by Yoda. To his agemates, they saw only his highmarks and what appeared as favouritism by the grandmaster."
"You sound sad," Che said softly, her anger from before fading.
Among the three of them in Che's office, silence filled the room as Ali-Alann gathered his thoughts.
Finally, the creche Master said, "Obi-Wan has always loved the Force, loved the Masters, loved Yoda, and though he is among our brightest lights in the Temple, that is not to say things come easily to him. He's a hard worker. Sometimes it seemed to me that he tries so hard because he fears the Order's love for him is conditional, that if he is less than perfect, he will be… unlovable."
Qui-Gon was taken aback by this. He often saw the younglings as too sheltered, but Obi-Wan's actions spoke of great trauma.
Could visions be the cause of this? Or something indicative of his past before the Order?
As if reading his thoughts, Ali-Alann said, "he was malnourished when he first came to the Temple. We don't actually know his birth date, but he was between the age of four and five."
"Possibly six or seven," Che said mildly.
Qui-Gon stared at her.
Xanatos had been four years old when he found him, it was considered too old.
Ali-Alann said, "I was never told that, but it would explain his intelligence as a youngling, but I fear what that meant for his health."
Che sighed, "I may have fibbed to the Council, but I couldn't allow him to be brought back to his world."
"Why not?" Qui-Gon asked.
"He's Stewjoni," Ali-Alann said.
Qui-Gon shook his head, "I only vaguely remember it but not as a system that even has a representative in the Senate."
"It doesn't," Che said hotly. "Because it is a part of Mandalore's system."
Qui-Gon paled.
His first Padawan, Feemor, had been a Seeker, and he had died leaving the Mandalore system.
He and the three younglings with him, one being no more than a babe, had been torn to pieces and sent back to Coruscant on his ship set to autopilot.
Knowing this, Che said softly, "I couldn't send him back to those people. I had no way of knowing if the neglect Obi-Wan had so clearly experienced was due to poverty or because of superstitious cruelty."
"You should have told me," Ali-Alann said.
Che shook her head but otherwise gave no reply.
Qui-Gon cleared his throat, "What can we do now?"
Che sighed, "You need to be sure he eats, and given your investigation, you should either be bringing food to your apartment or making meals there." She hesitated then.
So Qui-Gon prompted, "Just tell me what I can do."
She eyed him, "Get a smaller room assignment. It might not be as comfortable for either of you, it may mean you have to meditate on your beds or go elsewhere. However, the closeness will be good, his knowing and feeling that he isn't alone will be good. It will also give you the ability to keep an eye on him without being overtly intrusive. I normally would suggest counselling, but Obi-Wan hates the healer's wing."
"Why?"
"He doesn't like to admit when he's hurting," Ali-Alann said. "Like I said, he's a perfectionist. I also believe he has a number of visions about wars, not with the clarity and varsity of Master Sifo-Dyas. But enough that he's seen too much of war."
"His visions are centred on warfare?" Qui-Gon asked, voice sharp.
In no world was that a good thing.
Che actually chuckled at that.
"What's funny about that?"
"He did wish to be your Padawan. And I am well aware of your own health record, Knight Jinn. You have seen more warfare than most try on your assignments or did you expect that to change."
Qui-Gon hadn't actually thought about it from that perspective before.
Was he considered a Maverick because of his beliefs or because of his missions being tangibly different from others?
He had planned to go to Jedha before meeting Obi-Wan. Maybe he would still go with Obi-Wan in toe.
It would certainly be an educational retreat.
"Qui-Gon," Che said.
He caught her gaze, "Yes?"
"Be careful with this one, it will be up to you to set limits for him."
And wasn't that novel?
He nodded, "I will."
If what Che had said was true, then Obi-Wan was closer to being fifteen or sixteen years old. Which both explained the awkwardness of his growth spurt as well as spoke of near extreme malnutrition in his early life.
If Che had so easily been able to lie to the Council about the boy's age was bad, for in humans the difference between a three year old and a six year old could be exceedingly apparent.
It also meant that Obi-Wan remembered more of his past than he let on.
Or worse, perhaps, had been able to suppress those memories.
It was possible Obi-Wan could speak Mando'a, possibly he had cultural tendencies that he would have set aside in favour of embracing Jedi culture.
It also meant that while Qui-Gon would have to be careful of the boy's health, he could expect Obi-Wan to handle more mature philosophies.
A small part of Qui-Gon was pleased that he had become the Master of the oldest human Padawan in a few malinia.
After all, if Jedi customs and philosophies could survive practical application, age shouldn't matter.
Obi-Wan was disappointed when the healers shooed offthe Masters.
Mace had left with a backward glance, the first to realise how different his speech was to his elders.
He would have to be careful in the future.
Che allowed him to take a shower, but told him not to take off the bandages.
Obi-Wan palmed a fresh roll of wraps when her back was turned with the full intent of ignoring her.
He already felt that the wounds had closed up and he just didn't want to smell like the healing halls. He hadn't liked it when he was a kid.
He hated it now.
It reminded him of death, of the sensation of his troops and friends dying, their lights blown out within the Force, and there had been nothing he could do to prevent it, knowing it was his plans, his strategies that allowed it to happen.
So once he was in the shower, he used a liberal amount of soap. Pre-Clone Wars, the soaps were more diversified and he chose something that smelled of rain on tropical flowers. After which, he took off the wraps and gently scrubbed himself clean of the smell of bacta. Once he was dry, he wrapped his waist and his arm the way Kix and Helix had shown him when there wasn't enough bacta to spare.
Redressing, he came back to the room, resigning himself to not being able to sleep unless Che gave him some rather strong drugs.
But Che smiled at him and Obi-Wan half smiled back when he saw that Master Ali-Alann had returned.
The man offered him his hand, and Obi-Wan practically ran to him, clutching the Master's hand.
"You're letting me go?" he asked Che.
Che ruffled his head, "Go get some sleep, Ali-Alann will watch over you."
Obi-Wan didn't take it as a slight, he knew that for a youngling, he was worryingly not okay.
They, after all, hadn't lived through the Clone Wars yet.
"Thank you, Master Che."
She huffed, "Not thanking me for taking care of you, but for letting you go. Get out of here, you ungrateful Padawan."
Ali-Alann tugged on his hand and Obi-Wan waved goodbye, hurryingly.
Master Ali-Alann didn't say anything as they walked and Obi-Wan was relieved when they went to the creche Master's room and not Obi-Wan's empty one. The room was lit by a star map that served as a nightlight.
"Obi-Wan," the Master sighed, with nothing but the purest relief in his voice. A moment later, Obi-Wan was engulfed in a warm embrace. The familiar smell of the Master who had been mother, father, and safe harbour to him in his most fragile years allowed him to finally relax.
The sense of safety was enough to let the exhaustion wipe away the ache in his battered bones.
Ali-Alann carded his hand through Obi-Wan's hair and the last thing he heard was, "Sleep, my little starling, you're safe."
In Obi-Wan's haste to assume he had lost everyone who knew him by coming back in time, he had forgotten that those who loved him didn't need to know the turmoil of his thoughts to shelter him.
No matter how poorly he did in his classes, no matter how many mistakes he made, or what embassaments he underwent, Master Ali-Alann would always love him.
Even if darkness and danger had infiltrated the Temple, the Jedi would always be his home.
AN: Thoughts, snakes, or feedback pretty please?