"Use the Force only when necessary, Padawan. I want our status as Jedi kept secret for as long as possible," Qui-Gon had whispered before they had started. Obi-Wan heartily agreed. It would do them no good to let that piece of information out; every person in the village would be asking for their help in some form or another.
And news travels fast, Obi-Wan thought. The entire planet would have us running back to Coruscant to plead some case or another before the Council and Senate.
So, with four pairs of hands helping – and a little judicious, yet ample amount of Force-help – Obi-Wan was pleased to note that it took a lot less time than he was anticipating. With the dust gone, the rooms seemed larger, more welcoming.
Qui-Gon and Elanor left the youngsters to go fetch some wood to build a fire, Elanor promising that she and Atariel had brought something good to share for a late meal.
Obi-Wan and Atariel sat on opposite sides of the pine coffee table in companionable silence. As they waited for the grown-ups to return, Atariel took the basket's cover and spread it over the table. Quickly, the table was set and she shared the contents of the basket with Obi-Wan.
"These are all native foods," Atariel explained, placing containers between them. "When word got around that the supply transport was bringing refugees, each family prepared a dish. The Millers made the lamb stew, and the McPherson's made the black-bread. The Innkeeper and his wife made the stuffed mushrooms. The Bailey's supplied the roasted beef and gravy. Elanor and I supplied dessert."
"And what is for dessert?" Obi-Wan asked, his mouth watering. He was still a growing boy and Force-be-damned if he wasn't starving now. You're always 'starving', a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like his master said.
"Ah, dessert is a secret." Atariel winked.
Qui-Gon and Elanor chose that moment to return, bearing enough wood to keep the Jedi for the night.
Once a fire was roaring nicely, Elanor heated up the stew and they all tucked in.
Obi-Wan lay happily in his bed, his thoughts much more sunny and hopeful. He didn't let himself think about what the morrow would bring as he finally took his Master's advice and lived in the moment.
Dessert had been a delectable affair. Something called Jell-o(tm) had been mixed with yogurt to make a thick, creamy substance that melted on one's tongue. Whipped cream and berries had topped it.
Now, with his tummy finally filled to suit even the most voracious of Padawans, Obi-Wan sank deeper into the large, king-sized bed. The soft snoring of his Master lying beside him lulled the youth into a deep and pleasant sleep.