Chapter 5
Shadows swallowed the high Council room as the rain clouds aligned themselves in the sky. The morning's brilliance was gone. Qui-gon and Master Yoda stood together at the large picture windows looking out over an endlessly busy Corcusant. Yoda smiled with self-congratulation at the request Qui-gon had just bequeathed.
"Remain here you would like, eh? A change that is. What reasons have you?"
"I'm still feeling a bit worn down. After my close call, perhaps it would be wise to slow down a bit. I don't want to push it." Yoda nodded calmly but was extremely delighted, if not surprised. Heeding my word you are. Rest, you should. Refused you did, and now wisely you act. Your purpose I know. The boy it is that keeps you
Qui-gon had no words of reproach, but simply turned his eyes to the floor with a small, defeated even, grin. Yoda gladly gave his consent and Qui-gon left for his quarters just as the first thunder broke the sky.
His claim to fatigue wasn't a total myth. He did feel a bit weak, as if he had just run a great distance. Giving himself time to heal was the right thing to do. But again, a few weeks ago, he wouldn't have given it a second thought. He would have been gone already. And, peculiar as it was, he was staying because of Obi wan's plea. "I'm acting as though I have an apprentice again," he thought.
An apprentice. That evening, Qui-gon sat in the silence of his apartment, sipping tea, and resting himself properly. His thoughts did mull over the possibility of playing the part of a parent again. It made him nervous. He was not by any stretch of the imagination comfortable with the idea, but not totally willing to rule it out. Qui-gon had to admit it: there was a bond between Obi-wan and himself. Xantos' actions were the will of the Force; therefore this connection was also the product of the Force. Who was he to deny it?
Qui-gon got up after a long thinking session, preparing to go to bed early. He would consider all angles of the situation again and make his decision based on what he felt he had to do. As he left the room, an awkward brown lump caught the corner of his eye on the chair by the door. It was Obi- wan's robe. The youngster had left without it that morning and would probably be wondering where it was by tomorrow. Qui-gon decided to walk it down to the nursery. He fed himself the excuse that he could stand to stretch his legs a bit, anyway.
At this hour, Qui-gon had expected to find a quiet, peaceful nursery, full of sleeping children and tired Healers. But what he found was nothing short of a massacre scene. The children were wide-awake, chasing each other around, laughing, some complaining because they had been pushed down, and none of them responding to the Healer's demands for quiet. Some of the Healer's were on comlinks, their free hand covering their other ear. Observing, Qui-gon got a sick, frantic feeling in his stomach. He ran up to one of the Healer's trying to round up the rowdy children. Without any question, or introduction, he blurted out:
"It's Obi-wan, isn't it?" The Healer turned with a surprised countenance.
"What's happened?" Qui-gon urged.
"He's run off again. We can't find him. He does this periodically, slips out and..." Qui-gon pushed the tiny brown robe into the woman's hands and retreated to the door. He looked down the long corridors, trying to get a signal. It took only moments: left. He took off in a jog, not even thinking about what he was doing. He was only concentrated on finding Obi-wan Kenobi.
Obi-wan stopped at a new intersection of hallways. He looked in all directions, before deciding to continue straight. He had now managed to get himself completely lost which was precisely what he had intended to accomplish. Obi knew that sneaking out was against the rules. It wasn't that he liked being disobedient, but in this case, breaking a rule to escape the other initiates wasn't worth a second thought.
It really didn't even involve him being picked on. But he felt so out of place. It was mainly because his Force sensitivity had begun to develop due to the bond that was growing between him and Qui-gon. Obi-wan was essentially different from the other kids, and not even sure of what made him odd, they sensed it, and often took to shunning him.
Of course the Healer's intervened, but that just made it worse. Forcing Obi-wan in with the others just put up bigger barriers. He felt so misunderstood. If only there was someone who could see where he was coming from, and to accept it. Yeah, if only...
At this point in his escape, Obi-wan came to doors leading outside. It was dark and still raining but it seemed a better hideout than anywhere inside. Obi-wan pushed open the heavy door, and stepped into the cold, driving shower.
Seven minutes. Qui-gon had been following Obi-wan's trail, jogging every length of hallway. Never once did he question what he was doing. Never once did he consider stopping and letting someone else handle it. And it wasn't even so much the Force guiding him as instinct. It was as though he had known the child all his life. He stopped at an intersection of corridors. This youngster sure had gone all over the place, clearly without a definite destination. Straight. Qui-gon began jogging again. Wait a minute, he thought. This passage just leads to... doors.
"Oh God," he winced. His heart started racing. If Obi-wan got outside, a million things could happen. If the boy got lost, Qui-gon would find him, no question. But before that, who knows. He could get hurt on the streets, pushed around by the constant, pulsing crowd, desperate for air. He could seek relief in an ally. A predator could slip out of a darkened doorway, grab him, and, well... Force knows what.
By now, Qui-gon was running though the down pour, confident of his direction, but definitely unhappy about it. He had been hoping the boy would stay in the Temple's huge grounds, but Obi-wan had taken off straight out of them, probably unknowingly. Depending on how far ahead Obi-wan was, he could have reached the streets by now. The city's lights were coming into view, as Qui-gon rounded a corner.
The Temple grounds ended, and it was as if Qui-gon had changed worlds. He hit the crowds, full force, swirling around him. It seemed as though they were deliberately trying to stop him from following his signal. Gridlock, in every direction. It seemed impossible, but with a deep breath, Qui-gon could resume. These weren't the worst of streets, not yet. He pushed his way through, still trying to keep a fast pace, and got to a corner on an intersection. Qui-gon felt the force throb through the fateful bond, and he knew he was right on top of Obi-wan.
With an amazing flare of luck, Qui-gon spotted Obi-wan walking on the block ahead. He shot through the traffic, but was crippled by the crowds, lost sight of Obi-wan. Then this corner came into sight and Qui-gon saw Obi-wan just about to step off the curb when he made a desperate effort, shoved through, and got his balance enough to throw his right arm totally around in front of the young boy, ending the relay at last. Obi-wan let out a minor shriek, but Qui-gon lifted the boy up and escaped into a threshold.
When they faced each other, both breathing hard, Obi-wan didn't even look surprised. He just collapsed against Qui-gon sobbing. Qui-gon didn't react for a minute. He had forgotten what this felt like, forgotten what to do. But he was becoming humanized again, and he held the boy, kneeling down to look him in the eyes. The boy looked scared and was shivering. Qui-gon rapped his own soaked cloak around the boy and held him again. He waited patiently, and a little weakly, waiting for Obi-wan to talk.
"I'm sorry, Master Jinn. I know I shouldn't do that...but I... I got so scared, and,"
"Obi-wan, I know. I do. I understand. You feel different, out of place. When I was as little as you, I felt that too. I know it's hard."
"You... (sniffles)... you did?"
"Yes. But eventually it went away. And I became a Padawan like everyone else. The same will happen for you."
"The others, they tease me. They say it won't. I just get upset. I know I shouldn't break the rules..."
"Obi-wan, you may be in trouble with the Healers, but I find very little fault with you. I'll see to it that you aren't punished. And, next time you get upset, you know what you could do? Instead of running out, maybe you can ask one of the Healers to let you come see me. How would that be?" Little Obi's face cleared and through tear-stained cheeks came that classic smile.
"Come here," Qui-gon said. And Obi-wan gave him the hardest hug he could fester. Qui-gon was swept away by himself, the child, and what this bond had become. And even so, the urge to fight it was dying, and somehow, he just knew it was right.
Shadows swallowed the high Council room as the rain clouds aligned themselves in the sky. The morning's brilliance was gone. Qui-gon and Master Yoda stood together at the large picture windows looking out over an endlessly busy Corcusant. Yoda smiled with self-congratulation at the request Qui-gon had just bequeathed.
"Remain here you would like, eh? A change that is. What reasons have you?"
"I'm still feeling a bit worn down. After my close call, perhaps it would be wise to slow down a bit. I don't want to push it." Yoda nodded calmly but was extremely delighted, if not surprised. Heeding my word you are. Rest, you should. Refused you did, and now wisely you act. Your purpose I know. The boy it is that keeps you
Qui-gon had no words of reproach, but simply turned his eyes to the floor with a small, defeated even, grin. Yoda gladly gave his consent and Qui-gon left for his quarters just as the first thunder broke the sky.
His claim to fatigue wasn't a total myth. He did feel a bit weak, as if he had just run a great distance. Giving himself time to heal was the right thing to do. But again, a few weeks ago, he wouldn't have given it a second thought. He would have been gone already. And, peculiar as it was, he was staying because of Obi wan's plea. "I'm acting as though I have an apprentice again," he thought.
An apprentice. That evening, Qui-gon sat in the silence of his apartment, sipping tea, and resting himself properly. His thoughts did mull over the possibility of playing the part of a parent again. It made him nervous. He was not by any stretch of the imagination comfortable with the idea, but not totally willing to rule it out. Qui-gon had to admit it: there was a bond between Obi-wan and himself. Xantos' actions were the will of the Force; therefore this connection was also the product of the Force. Who was he to deny it?
Qui-gon got up after a long thinking session, preparing to go to bed early. He would consider all angles of the situation again and make his decision based on what he felt he had to do. As he left the room, an awkward brown lump caught the corner of his eye on the chair by the door. It was Obi- wan's robe. The youngster had left without it that morning and would probably be wondering where it was by tomorrow. Qui-gon decided to walk it down to the nursery. He fed himself the excuse that he could stand to stretch his legs a bit, anyway.
At this hour, Qui-gon had expected to find a quiet, peaceful nursery, full of sleeping children and tired Healers. But what he found was nothing short of a massacre scene. The children were wide-awake, chasing each other around, laughing, some complaining because they had been pushed down, and none of them responding to the Healer's demands for quiet. Some of the Healer's were on comlinks, their free hand covering their other ear. Observing, Qui-gon got a sick, frantic feeling in his stomach. He ran up to one of the Healer's trying to round up the rowdy children. Without any question, or introduction, he blurted out:
"It's Obi-wan, isn't it?" The Healer turned with a surprised countenance.
"What's happened?" Qui-gon urged.
"He's run off again. We can't find him. He does this periodically, slips out and..." Qui-gon pushed the tiny brown robe into the woman's hands and retreated to the door. He looked down the long corridors, trying to get a signal. It took only moments: left. He took off in a jog, not even thinking about what he was doing. He was only concentrated on finding Obi-wan Kenobi.
Obi-wan stopped at a new intersection of hallways. He looked in all directions, before deciding to continue straight. He had now managed to get himself completely lost which was precisely what he had intended to accomplish. Obi knew that sneaking out was against the rules. It wasn't that he liked being disobedient, but in this case, breaking a rule to escape the other initiates wasn't worth a second thought.
It really didn't even involve him being picked on. But he felt so out of place. It was mainly because his Force sensitivity had begun to develop due to the bond that was growing between him and Qui-gon. Obi-wan was essentially different from the other kids, and not even sure of what made him odd, they sensed it, and often took to shunning him.
Of course the Healer's intervened, but that just made it worse. Forcing Obi-wan in with the others just put up bigger barriers. He felt so misunderstood. If only there was someone who could see where he was coming from, and to accept it. Yeah, if only...
At this point in his escape, Obi-wan came to doors leading outside. It was dark and still raining but it seemed a better hideout than anywhere inside. Obi-wan pushed open the heavy door, and stepped into the cold, driving shower.
Seven minutes. Qui-gon had been following Obi-wan's trail, jogging every length of hallway. Never once did he question what he was doing. Never once did he consider stopping and letting someone else handle it. And it wasn't even so much the Force guiding him as instinct. It was as though he had known the child all his life. He stopped at an intersection of corridors. This youngster sure had gone all over the place, clearly without a definite destination. Straight. Qui-gon began jogging again. Wait a minute, he thought. This passage just leads to... doors.
"Oh God," he winced. His heart started racing. If Obi-wan got outside, a million things could happen. If the boy got lost, Qui-gon would find him, no question. But before that, who knows. He could get hurt on the streets, pushed around by the constant, pulsing crowd, desperate for air. He could seek relief in an ally. A predator could slip out of a darkened doorway, grab him, and, well... Force knows what.
By now, Qui-gon was running though the down pour, confident of his direction, but definitely unhappy about it. He had been hoping the boy would stay in the Temple's huge grounds, but Obi-wan had taken off straight out of them, probably unknowingly. Depending on how far ahead Obi-wan was, he could have reached the streets by now. The city's lights were coming into view, as Qui-gon rounded a corner.
The Temple grounds ended, and it was as if Qui-gon had changed worlds. He hit the crowds, full force, swirling around him. It seemed as though they were deliberately trying to stop him from following his signal. Gridlock, in every direction. It seemed impossible, but with a deep breath, Qui-gon could resume. These weren't the worst of streets, not yet. He pushed his way through, still trying to keep a fast pace, and got to a corner on an intersection. Qui-gon felt the force throb through the fateful bond, and he knew he was right on top of Obi-wan.
With an amazing flare of luck, Qui-gon spotted Obi-wan walking on the block ahead. He shot through the traffic, but was crippled by the crowds, lost sight of Obi-wan. Then this corner came into sight and Qui-gon saw Obi-wan just about to step off the curb when he made a desperate effort, shoved through, and got his balance enough to throw his right arm totally around in front of the young boy, ending the relay at last. Obi-wan let out a minor shriek, but Qui-gon lifted the boy up and escaped into a threshold.
When they faced each other, both breathing hard, Obi-wan didn't even look surprised. He just collapsed against Qui-gon sobbing. Qui-gon didn't react for a minute. He had forgotten what this felt like, forgotten what to do. But he was becoming humanized again, and he held the boy, kneeling down to look him in the eyes. The boy looked scared and was shivering. Qui-gon rapped his own soaked cloak around the boy and held him again. He waited patiently, and a little weakly, waiting for Obi-wan to talk.
"I'm sorry, Master Jinn. I know I shouldn't do that...but I... I got so scared, and,"
"Obi-wan, I know. I do. I understand. You feel different, out of place. When I was as little as you, I felt that too. I know it's hard."
"You... (sniffles)... you did?"
"Yes. But eventually it went away. And I became a Padawan like everyone else. The same will happen for you."
"The others, they tease me. They say it won't. I just get upset. I know I shouldn't break the rules..."
"Obi-wan, you may be in trouble with the Healers, but I find very little fault with you. I'll see to it that you aren't punished. And, next time you get upset, you know what you could do? Instead of running out, maybe you can ask one of the Healers to let you come see me. How would that be?" Little Obi's face cleared and through tear-stained cheeks came that classic smile.
"Come here," Qui-gon said. And Obi-wan gave him the hardest hug he could fester. Qui-gon was swept away by himself, the child, and what this bond had become. And even so, the urge to fight it was dying, and somehow, he just knew it was right.