A/N: Thanks so much to all you guys for the reviews. I know I've been tardy – but blame DRL. :D But I have written a lot more, and I'll post as regularly as I can.
XII
"...tell me. How many missions have you undertaken? How many blasters have you faced? How many trained and skilful assassins have tried to hack you, and how many politicians, Emperors, Princes, and traders have you protected?"
Her eyes had lost none of their defiance - but it occurred to him that it was now more a show of maintaining dignity, rather than any real wish to defy him.
"I have been on missions outside the Temple."
"Thrice, since your knighting, which took place six years ago. One of which was to Alderaan, as one of three Jedi meant to communicate classified information to Senator Wan'a - a mission which was not endangered, in any way - "
"And I was more than well aware of the dangers that accompanied my mission - "
His voice cut in, sharp as the slice of a sabre. "You will not interrupt while I speak, Madame—surely that is not too much to ask from such a learned one?"
She capitulated—he almost caught the slight flick of surprise at her decision to do so. Then, a certain smug look entered her tightly drawn face, violet eyes shining like gems. He had to admit that her control was impeccable. "I beg pardon," she answered, her voice steady, and he was aware of her intention to do battle, even across the distance. "Kindly proceed, Master Jinn."
He stared at her, knowing that his eyes reflected none of what he truly felt, and that his face remained calm and serene. "Certainly, Archivist T'shar. Six weeks ago - "
As the rumble of thunder echoed its way through the horizon, Qui-Gon felt the first stirrings of wakefulness from Obi-Wan, and opened his eyes. He was aware of the training bond sparking to slow life; bits and pieces of images and conversation spinning through their connection.
"Explosion?" he felt Obi-Wan's bright blue-green eyes staring him, wide and uncertain, and felt his body tense. "Where's the explosion?"
He looked down, then, and smiled. "There is no explosion, padawan," he said, bringing a hand to brush his cloak from the apprentice's eyes. "Merely a storm. And a magnificent one, at that."
Obi-Wan frowned, and the master could feel the faint confusion and grogginess that always followed an abrupt return to the waking world. "Storm?" murmured the padawan, twisting himself slightly to look around him—and became aware of his surroundings. "What..." he began, as he felt himself wrapped in cloaks and tunics, and suddenly understood why the 'dub'bing noise he had heard in his sleep sounded so familiar—Qui-Gon's heartbeat.
"Oh," he breathed, feeling a sudden twinge of embarrassment. "Master, I..." he began, and then stopped. "What...where?"
"You collapsed outside the Dining Chambers...and I carried you here." He noted a second embarrassed twinge, and the smile grew. "You were exhausted, padawan."
Obi-Wan appeared to rouse himself more, though his eyes were still heavy with sleep. He squirmed, trying to sit up; Qui-Gon assisted him in his efforts until the padawan was shifted, somewhat awkwardly, it must be admitted - and arranged him alongside him, back resting on the stone wall. The air had grown cooler, and he tightened the clasp of his own cloak around the apprentice. He himself felt little but welcome relief from the air; Obi-wan was not so inclined to such coolness, he knew.
His knowledge of Obi-Wan's likes and dislikes was re-confirmed as the padawan drew closer to Qui-Gon involuntarily. "Why here, and not our own Chambers?"
"For one thing, our Chambers are more than three floors above, and I was not inclined to offer tiresome explanations about why I was carrying you, what your ailment, if any, was - and for another..." His voice trailed away.
Obi-Wan smiled slightly, embarrassment fast vanishing. "You couldn't stay away from the storm, could you?"
"...had you but known your apprentice well, Master Jinn, you would have foreseen..."
"You know me well, padawan. No, I could not resist it." He threw a glance at the form huddled up beside him. "If you wish, however, we can go back - "
Obi-Wan shook his head. "No, I would like to stay here," he spoke, as they watched the trees straggling widely in the dark sky. "It's been a long time since I saw a storm, anyway. Coruscant..." he paused. "Coruscant does not allow such discrepancies, as the Weather Control is inclined to call it." He finished, eyes gleaming.
Qui-Gon smiled, in turn. "They prefer an orderly existence, and that's not very surprising." He paused. "You're not cold, are you?"
"I'm comfortable enough. In fact, I would've melted in sweltering heat, were it not for the winds," Obi-Wan chuckled. Qui-Gon noted, with some relief, that the apprentice's mind seemed relaxed—he appeared to have derived some benefit from the few hours of rest.
"Good."
Silence reigned for a few moments, as another flash of lightning cut through the air, and Qui-Gon sensed his apprentice squeeze his eyes shut, preparing himself mentally for the thunder that would follow. When it did, it rolled through the skies as though the heavens had fallen.
"Well," he heard a murmur. "That was...loud."
Qui-Gon chuckled. "A spectacular understatement, that." He turned to look at Obi-Wan again. "Are you comfortable, padawan?"
The padawan stretched his legs out, still wrapped in the cloak. "I am, master."
"Excellent. Because..." He drew a deep breath. "I have thought for hours, and am yet to understand..."
Beside him, he sensed Obi-Wan grow still.
"...While serenity and calmness define a Jedi, remember, Madame, that warriors need skills; skills that require accomplishment and finesse—without these, we are lost. Lost to ourselves and to others who might expect our aid..."
"...why it was that T'shar exerted as much influence as she did, over you."
Obi-Wan bit his lips. He had been expecting this for hours already, and had prepared the answers he would give; he had anticipated the question and the censure that might follow. What he had not expected was the tone in which the question was asked, the sadness that seemed to linger in it...
What have I done?
He rubbed his fingers over the bridge of his nose, wishing desperately for enough control over the Force, that he would be able to reverse time and undo all the damage of the past weeks. Now that he had calmed his mind reasonably, he was much more receptive to Qui-Gon's own emotions; kept in check they might be, but they had known each other far too long to find any necessity to keep up shields for long periods of time.
He sent faint tendrils of Force now, towards the tall figure sitting beside him—even in the half-light, he could sense that the master was not relaxed...and had not been, for quite a while.
It unnerved him. More so, because he sensed not the result of uncertainty during missions—this time, the reason for the disturbance was himself. There was also the fact that Qui-Gon was letting him sense it...
"Obi-Wan?"
He drew a deep breath, and pursed his lips. "Yes?"
"How many years does your apprenticeship span?"
"Ten standard years, master."
"In all these years, young one, I have made my share of mistakes—I shall not deny that." Force, this was worse. Obi-Wan understood the tone of the conversation, and a brief prickling of foreboding shot through him as he guessed how it would end. "On the other hand, I have always tried to be what a master must be. I have taught you—and still do teach you all I can, about what you will need to know as a Knight of the Order." He felt Qui-Gon look at him. "Hitherto, I have thought, the occasional slips and falls aside, we have managed to do rather well...particularly as far as the Force and the Code were concerned."
Obi-wan's fingers clenched themselves, before relaxing.
"I sense that your internal conflict is now considerably cleared. Correct?"
"Yes, master."
"Are you now resolved in your mind, about what a Jedi knight's duty is, and how we may best equip ourselves to carry it out?"
"Yes, master. I understand."
"I have never yet known you to lie to me, young one - it is, I have often thought, one of your more redeeming qualities." He could almost feel Qui-Gon's faint smile. "Search your mind, padawan. Think back to our...duel, and remember what it was that the Force told you. Do not be influenced by what I say, or the Council, or anyone else, for that matter. Your own heart must lead you to the answer...and I hope it has." He paused. "Tell me. What did the Force say?"
"It said that I needed to follow nothing but its voice," Obi-Wan's voice was steady. "That my duty was to serve others - and that my skills were given to me for that purpose. That if I did not feel pride and happiness in what I was destined to do, I would lose faith in my destiny...and my work will be ruined." He shook his head slightly. "I don't know - I don't know how I lost sight of it all."
"You faced a formidable opponent, padawan."
Obi-wan raised his head, at that. "I did?"
"Yes. Even so...you must have been able to defeat her arguments. You have been able to do so since an early age, padawan - analysis was one of your strong points, I recall. I'm yet to understand how T'shar managed to sway you in the manner she did."
Qui-Gon's voice grew soft—and it occurred to Obi-Wan that the master was not really confused at all, but was rather waiting to hear his explanation.
He felt Qui-Gon's fingers reach for his own, and clasp them gently. "My padawan, did my arguments about the Force, over the years, mean nothing to you? Are T'shar's theories which you've heard for a month, much more to you than what we've learnt together for almost ten standard years?"
Obi-Wan felt his breath quicken as Qui-Gon's voice sank lower, assuming a lower timbre. "Where have I erred in teaching you, Obi-Wan?"
(tbc...)