Chapter: Two. Winning the Bet
Author: Taulaes
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars or any of the associated characters. The characters in this fanfic that are my own creation are Naedre Onga and Carro Monor(even if Carro was only mentioned by name). I am not George Lucas and I do not profit from this fanfic.
A/N: 'insert text' denotes Obi-Wan's thoughts
-insert text- denotes Obi-Wan talking to Qui-Gon through the bond
/insert text/ denotes Qui-Gon talking to Obi-Wan through the bond
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The Master and the Padawan, both grinning like fools, walked down the nearly empty corridors of the Jedi Temple. Both believed they would win the bet, but one was wrong in their thinking. They had walked down three hallways and still hadn't found any other Padawans. "Looks like I won the bet by default, Master. We haven't found anyone for you to ask. I win. Let's just go to the clothes' fitters, then later you can hold up your end of the deal," Obi-Wan said.
"Ah, but in our deal, you never mentioned a specific time frame in which this bet had to be completed. Therefore, who have not won and I do not have to hold up my end of our deal," Qui-Gon stated.
The Padawan let out a sigh when his hopes of easily winning this bet vanished. With luck, they wouldn't see any other Padawans and Qui-Gon wouldn't go off searching for one. Slowly, they made their way to the clothes' fitters. About half way there, the two saw a group of Padawans. "Well, there you go, Master, choose one of them and ask. They won't know the size, I can tell you that much," Obi-Wan said.
"The Padawan whom I ask shall be of my choosing. Though those may be Padawans, they are not the ones I will be asking about sizes," Qui-Gon responded.
"That's not fair, Master. You'll just go and find the Padawan that looks the smartest. Or, though not bright, the one that looks to have fashion sense," Obi-Wan complained.
"Of course, it's fair, my Padawan, for I am the Master. And don't be so whinny or I may have to send you off to some desert planet. You know, very well, that the Jedi training clearly forbids complaints. 'A Jedi shall not know fear. Nor hate. Nor love. Nor shall they complain.' That last bit is often left out, but is still no less important," Qui-Gon explained.
Quietly, they continued on their way. At least ten minutes passed and they still hadn't reached the clothes' fitters.
'How far away is the clothes' fitters, anyway? It's taking forever to get there!'
Obi-Wan would have continued his thought process, if Qui-Gon didn't motion for him to stop. "There," ---Qui-Gon pointed to a female Padawan who looked a little older than Obi-Wan--- "She's the one I will be asking. Now, you must remain here. And please, don't do anything stupid," Qui-Gon said.
'Why is he asking a girl?'
The Padawan would have stopped his Master, if Qui-Gon hadn't already reached the young girl. Obi-Wan was out of earshot. He wanted to hear, but he also didn't want to upset Qui-Gon by leaving the spot he was instructed to stay in. With a sigh, Obi-Wan plopped down onto the floor and waited for his Master to be finished; and to admit his loss.
Back over with Qui-Gon, he had started a conversation with the Padawan. "Hello," Qui-Gon said and offered his hand for a hand shake, "My name is Qui-Gon Jinn. I am the Jedi Master of Obi-Wan Kenobi. Do you know him and what is your name?"
The girl gave Qui-Gon an odd look that seemed to say, 'What do you want? And why are you talking to me?' Qui-Gon didn't see this though. "I don't personally know him. If he walked into the quarters my Master and I share, I'd know it was him. I know that he's that Padawan over there, sitting on the floor. My name is Naedre Onga; my Master is Carro Monor."
/Padawan! Why are you sitting on the floor? I thought I told you to try not to do anything stupid./
-Well, you see, Master, I can only stand up for so long with nothing to do before my knees start to hurt.-
/What am I going to do with you/
-Not send me to the Agri-Corp, I hope. I don't want to escape from that job again.-
"Well, Naedre, my Padawan and I have a little wager going. I won't go into the details of it, but I will tell you some vital information you will need to know," Qui-Gon said.
Obi-Wan saw the two talking and wondered what was going on. What could his Master possibly be talking about with her for so long? Then a startling thought entered Obi-Wan's mind.
-Master!-
/What Obi-Wan? Are you okay? Why do you sound panicked/
-You don't want to be my Master anymore, do you?-
/What gave you that idea/
-Well, you've been talking to that girl for so long... You want her to be your new Padawan. You're going to send me off to the Agri-Corp!-
/Don't be silly. I'm coming back over now. So stand up and have some dignity. Naedre, the girl, she's coming over with me too, okay? No need to be alarmed when you see her following me./
With a sigh of relief, Obi-Wan looked up and saw Qui-Gon striding over with Naedre behind him. Even though his Master had told him, Obi-Wan was still alarmed to see her. He knew her! They had sparred once when they were still both initiates. And she had won, leaving Obi-Wan mocked for ages for being beaten by a girl. But this was no time to start a rivalry, he had to be calm; he had a bet to win! "Hi, Obi-Wan! I remember you! We sparred and I beat you! You were mocked for ages. Quite sad actually," Naedre said.
Obi-Wan knew that if he had nothing nice to say, it was better to just say nothing at all. He practiced his deep breathing techniques that he learned from doing yoga with Yoda.
/Padawan, your eye is twitching. It's your left one. Please excuse me if I start to laugh./
-Just get this over with.-
"So, Naedre. Let's put the past behind us, shall we? We have a few questions to ask..." Obi-Wan was cut off by Qui-Gon.
"Actually, Naedre, I have a few questions to ask you. My Padawan shall remain quiet. No matter how much he wishes to speak," Qui-Gon said with a glare at Obi-Wan.
"Okay. Ask away. Well, unless this is some weird survey the Council has sent out. Then, I plead the Fifth," Naedre said.
"Ok, first, how many new robes does my Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi need?" Qui-Gon asked.
Obi-Wan was absolutely shocked, no, appalled by that question. That is not at all what he meant when he challenge his Master to a bet. "He needs at least three new sets of Padawan robes. Mostly just for special occasions," Naedre responded.
"Very good. You are correct. Next question. How many robes does my Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi, have? This is including the ones that are not necessarily wearable in public," Qui-Gon explained.
"He owns twelve sets. But only three are wearable in public. And even the third pair is a bit boarder line," Naedre responded.
"Once again, correct. And, finally, the last question. What size does my Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi, wear?" Qui-Gon had a smug look on his face.
"He wears a size three for Padawan robes and size nine for initiate robes," Naedre said.
"Very good. You may leave. Thank you for your time," Qui-Gon thanked her.
With a wave to Obi-Wan, who's jaw almost reached the floor, and a laugh, Naedre skipped off. "Well, I believe you need to be making chocolate cheesecake and repairing those twelve sets of robes, Padawan," Qui-Gon said nonchalantly.
"What? How? Why?" Obi-Wan's eye got all twitchy again, "GAH! I'm not going to bother to ask!"
Obi-Wan threw his hands into the air and stormed off in the direction that he believed the clothes' fitters to be in. Once again, he was beaten by a girl, who this time, was in cahoots with his own Master; and it was the same girl! His own Master had been manipulative, cunning, and sly. Obi-Wan wanted to be just like him.
Looking back on the years to come, Obi-Wan would realize that his Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, always did have a gambling problem.
END OF CHAPTER TWO