TITLE: Sojourn Chronicles #1: Fateful Meeting

AUTHOR: Sentimental Star

FEEDBACK: Yes, please. Send to ecrivain16@yahoo.com or R&R at Fanfiction.net (pen-name: Sentimental Star)

ARCHIVES: JAFD, Fanfiction.net

WARNINGS: None

SPOILERS: Possible small ones for JA Series

SERIES: Yes, Sojourn Chronicles

RATING: G-PG

SUMMARY: Eighteen years Pre-TPM, Non-Slash: Seven-year-old initiate Obi- Wan Kenobi was brought to the Jedi Temple from Tatooine when he was three years old. He does not remember anything very significant from his life before Jedi-hood except for one very special Jedi Master whom he has not seen since then . . . . .

DISCLAIMER: Do you know how much I hate these things? ::sighs:: Anyway, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan aren't mine, nor are any other characters you recognize. They belong to George Lucas and Jude Watson.

NOTES: AU for Jedi Apprentice. Forgive me if these aren't very good, I haven't much experience in writing Star Wars or Jedi Apprentice fanfiction. There is a father/son relationship/friendship between Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, but even if you don't like that sort of thing, please read anyway. R&R!

Obi-Wan Kenobi had never liked being alone. He supposed it had something to do with the planet he had once called home—Tatooine. Far out on the Outer Rim, the desert planet and its twin suns could be very lonely indeed, especially when your family paid little attention to you.

He had been unwanted by his parents and brother. They had been only too happy to hand him over to the Jedi Masters staying with them once it was determined that he was Force-sensitive.

He no longer remembered anything about them now. There was only one person he really remembered from that day, being three at the time, and that was one of the Jedi Masters who had found him. When the tall, powerfully built man with kind, midnight blue eyes had picked him up, Obi-Wan had experienced a safety and a warmth he had never before felt with anyone else. He was wanted. And even though he had only been three, to him that had meant the world.

Somehow he knew Jedi Master had felt something very much the same. However, before anything else occurred, the boy had found himself pushed into what he now knew to be a Force-induced sleep. When he had woken up in a bed in the Temple's Crèche, the Jedi Master was gone.

Several years had passed since that day with no sign of the mysterious Jedi Master. Obi-Wan still thought of him from time to time, after all, that man had been the first to let the young initiate know that there were such things as love and friendship and trust, even if he didn't know it. Because of his early childhood, Obi-Wan had been badly scarred and he made it a point to reach out to anyone and everyone he could, not wanting them to experience what he had so early in his young life. He had made many casual friends and had several very close ones now, and he could not be happier.

At only seven years of age, he had learned a very important lesson that some people don't learn until they were in their thirties—to give love and be loved in turn was a gift more precious than the rarest treasure.

"Oof! Hey, watch where you're going, clumsy!" a voice sneered.

Uh OH! Obi-Wan thought. This was NOT the person he wanted to tangle with right now. He had not been watching where he was going, so involved in his thoughts was he, and he had collided with one of the meanest boys in his year—Bruck Chun. He and the other seven-year-old had clashed often in times past and Obi-Wan was not too keen on him, but he still tried to reach out to the bully, even if he did get beat up because of it.

"I'm sorry, Bruck, you're right," he apologized hurriedly, leaning down and offering his hand to the other boy, who was currently on the ground, scowling at him.

The scowl quickly turned into a contemptuous smirk. "That you're clumsy."

Obi-Wan's cheeks flushed scarlet. "No," he replied evenly, still holding his hand out, "that I wasn't watching where I was going."

Bruck remained on the floor, the disdain clearly evident on his face. "Always have had your head in the clouds, Obi-Wan Kenobi," he remarked scornfully. "You'll never become a Jedi Knight, never."

His face was now flushed nearly to the roots of his ginger hair, the hand Obi-Wan still held out wavered, then steadied. There was a glint of steel in his eyes and his voice as he replied, "There is nothing wrong with that. Without dreams I wouldn't be human. Now if you'd like to stay there on the floor, fine, I'll go to the Dining Hall and leave you alone. If not, let me help you up and we'll go there together. We're already late as it is."

"Not doing," Bruck retorted, "I already had my dinner and anyway, there is no WAY I am showing up with a loser like you in the Dining Hall."

While Bruck leaving the Dining Hall so early was an abnormality, Obi-Wan dismissed it for the time being and firmed his resolve not to explode at the other. "Fine, then at least let me help you."

Bruck's face darkened and his smirk turned wicked. "Sure, I'll let you help me, Obi . . . as a punching bag."

Before Obi-Wan could react or have time to prepare, Bruck surged to his feet and delivered a cruel uppercut to the smaller, slighter boy's jaw. Stars exploded in front of Obi-Wan's vivid blue eyes and his vision turned hazy as he was sent careening into one of the white walls of the corridor, striking the back of his head against it. Pain burst into full bloom in his mind.

Obi-Wan went to block the upcoming blow, but he had been stunned and was in serious pain from the first punch. The block came too late and the punch found its target—Obi-Wan's abdomen. With a grunt, he collapsed, doubling over in pain, the Force slipping just out of his grasp. Weakly, he battled to lift his head. His pain-filled eyes stared calmly into Bruck's glittering black ones. He may not be able to defend himself, but at the very least he would face the other boy's cruelty like he was taught, although never in his wildest imaginings would he have thought he would one day need to use it when facing a fellow initiate.

Bruck pulled back his fist to deliver another blow and Obi-Wan steeled himself for what would surely land him in the Healers' Ward. The other boy's fist seemed to come at him in slow motion and he was helpless to do anything about it. Suddenly, a large, dark hand shot out and grabbed Bruck's wrist and someone slipped an arm around Obi-Wan and drew him into their lap. The seven-year-old could just barely make out the voices of his rescuers:

"Now that's enough," came Master Mace Windu's stern order.

"Obi, Obi, are you all right?!" a soft voice that sounded suspiciously like his best friend, Bant Eerin, pressed worriedly.

And there was another, one that sparked a memory of the Jedi Master who had first let Obi-Wan know what caring for others meant. "Young one, how badly are you hurt?" His voice was gentle and deep with underlying warmth.

Even though it caused stars and streaks of color to dance across his vision and caused him excruciating pain, Obi-Wan snapped his head up . . . only to discover Bant and a Jedi Master with kind midnight blue eyes gazing down at him in deep concern. The big Jedi was holding him.

In that instant, that split-second when they met each other's gaze, the feeling of safety and familiarity Obi-Wan had encountered four years ago on Tatooine with this very same Master, returned tenfold. Then his eyes rolled back in his head and he was unconscious.

The last thing he heard before the blackness claimed him was the Jedi Master and Bant crying out simultaneously in worry and surprise.



TBC

A/N: So, how'd you like the first chapter of Sojourn Chronicles? Do you think I should continue this fic and this series? I know the first chapter was kinda short, but I hope to make other chapters longer. Please R&R!