Chapter Two

It was a rare day when Qui-Gon Jinn finds time or reason to visit the Jedi temple on Coruscant. Yoda even halted a Form I training session midway through to meet with the man; he and Mace Windu wait for Qui-Gon as he stepped out of his landing ship. Striding with his usual level of nonchalance towards the mismatched pair, his traveling robes and cloak fluttered in the cool mid-morning breeze.

"Master Yoda," Qui-Gon addressed him, voice soft and low. Yoda bowed his head slightly in greeting. "Master Windu."

"I trust your visit to Metellos was uneventful?" Mace asked.

"Extremely. It is… good to be back."

The trio began the walk back to the temple itself, pace slow to keep up with Yoda, who lumbered with his cane. "Unfortunate," Yoda began, "are the circumstances surrounding your return. Weighs heavily on him, his capture does."

"You don't miss a trick, do you?" Qui-Gon smiled, but underneath it were traces of weariness and anxiety; it was his suggestion that sent Anakin to Bandomeer after Xanatos, and now it was similarly his fault Anakin was still recovering from the beatings and exhaustion of working in the mines. Truth be told, Anakin's smarting ego was the worst of it. Still, the seriousness of the situation couldn't be ignored. The Jedi Order was fortunate Anakin was the one sent to Bandomeer; his skill as a Knight was unequaled, especially for a human. Had another Knight been sent to the planet it was doubtful they would have returned alive.

"Whatever the reason, it is good to have you back among us," Mace said.

Qui-Gon nodded thoughtfully. "May I see him?" he asked, priorities obvious.

"Yes. But linger, do not. Many things have we to discuss."

---

Anakin, still pained and weary, could scarcely get around. He pushed himself up to his elbows and kicked the covers of his bedding aside when Qui-Gon entered his chambers. It was evident that much movement taxed him; he gasped around a bruised rib and struggled to get comfortable, hair already matted with sweat.

"Qui-Gon. I thought I felt your presence. You should have told me you were coming; I would have dressed up." He grinned, sarcastic to the last, and gestured his former master closer.

"Anakin. Passive as always, I'm glad to see." He drew a chair over from a small table and sat, making sure Anakin would have to take no pains to see him. "How are you feeling?"

"Awful, but I'll live."

"I'm sure you will."

There was a lull in conversation as both men regarded each other. Anakin tried to move up his pillows but pain spiked through his side, making him hiss and fall back against the mattress. Immediately Qui-Gon moved forward and helped him shift position.

"Concentrate," he instructed calmly, although if Anakin were in more of a frame of mind to pay attention, he would have noticed the lines of worry creasing Qui-Gon's brow. "If you concentrate on the Force, the pain is lessened."

"Oh, it—sounds simplistic," Anakin panted, leaning on his friend's arm for support. Once they managed to prop him up in a pose that didn't seem to overly aggravate his ribs and back, Qui-Gon took his seat again. "I've been in bed for days, I'm going out of my head. You're the only—stimulating company I've had so far."

"What about the pain?" Qui-Gon asked, so used to ignoring Anakin's grumblings by this point he hardly even heard them. "Haven't the droids given you—"

"I started refusing them last night; they made it difficult to focus."

"That's rather the point, I think."

"I can't afford to—"

"Yes, you can. You're safe here."

Anakin might have scowled at him; it was too dark in the room to tell, even at such close range. He hated being questioned or told off, and usually it was one of his normal idiosyncrasies, except it made it difficult to discuss things. But not often.

"Why are you here, anyway?" he asked dourly, not quite ungrateful but definitely deflated.

"I sensed I needed to be."

Anakin eyed him. "Really."

"And, of course, I was worried about you."

"You needn't have bothered. I'm fine. Or at least I will be."

"And I'm glad to hear of it," Qui-Gon sighed, sensing Anakin's tenacious bad humor wasn't going to go away with idle conversation. "You should be asleep."

"I'm perfectly—"

"You should sleep. I must speak with Yoda, but I will be back."

"Why—"

"Still asking too many questions, I see." Qui-Gon smiled fondly and stood from the chair. "Rest."

---

I was going to wait until chapter three was written to accompany this, as the chapter is short and not at all satisfying (to me personally). However, I'll be gone for three or four days and probably without net access, so letting this sit isn't on my agenda.