Shadows in the Light
by Romania Black
Hey hey everyone! Here's Chapter Four! Hope all of you guys enjoy it! It takes a slightly deeper look into the develpmental relationship of Dooku and Qui-Gon as Master and Apprentice. Personally, I like Dooku, so this is a good chapter for me to show in my opinion how good of a Jedi he once was, in more ways than one.
Also, Qui-Gon is twelve now instead of eight, so yippee! Little Jinn's growing up! tear LOL, well,
I own nothing of Lucas Films or Star Wars except for my own Jedi, Jinx C'Ton, which I claim! LOL So here we go!
Chapter Four: Makashi and Ataro
"No, no," Dooku frowned with slight impatience as he turned the lightsaber slowly in my hand. "You must hold the saber with your left hand above your right. It helps to create a more fluid motion that way." He let go of my hand as I held it in the stance he had placed it in. Dooku backed away from me and held his lightsaber near his face. A red beam of light retracted from it immediately. He nodded to me with a notion that suggested he was ready to begin. I stepped forward, and swung my blade.
Time flies when you're having fun, but even more when you're constantly traveling and learning. It had been four years, which had gone by so fast, since I was reasigned to be trained by Master Dooku of Serenno. So different than my former Master, Dooku was a cosmopolitan icon of good taste in the Jedi Order. He was also one of the foremost best swordsman ever seen by any Jedi other than Mace Windu and Yoda, as well as an intellectual who could converse with the best of them and still maintain a sense of pride and integrity, which even though were not considered good traits of a Jedi exactly, were over overlooked in the case of Master Dooku. No one could argue, Master Dooku was one of the best in the Order. Period.
The green jet of light emitting from my lightsaber clashed loudly with that of Dooku's and for a second both of us stared at each other, saber's locked, but then Dooku swung his away and swiped it in a half circular motion that, had it been meant to hit me, would've sliced me in half. I flung myself backwards to avoid the blade in any case and parried a few more strokes with my Master. He blocked every single one of them. It was now his turn.
The lightsaber duel style Dooku used was called Makashi. It was an eleagant form of fighting that was not so much of raw power as it was of wit, grace, flexiblility, and strategic strength. Makashi was not meant for extreme head-to-head dueling, but was strong enough with its fluid motions that it could easily take on large amounts of foes at a time. It was also a very detailed style, that required serious detication, as well as much time to learn and master it. But once you did, it was a very aesthetic and strong style to use at anytime. I could not imagine how long it had taken Dooku to master it, but mastered it, he had.
"You're dodging is getting better every day, Qui-Gon," Dooku smiled curtiously as we I blocked and backed away from his assault. I felt a bump as my back hit the wall of the room. "But what happens when you are cornered, Padawan?" I saw that he was smiling at me with a triumphant look. He positioned the blade to point at my chest. I pressed the button, and my green blade disapppeared. I sighed as I shook my head and gazed back to my Master with a guilty look of failure.
"I'm sorry, Master, I wasn't thinking." I croaked out. My voice has been changing as of late, and it is often embarrassing to talk in front of others. But not Dooku. Master Dooku takes it all in a wink and makes no impressions to make be seem embarrassed.
"You are learning, Padawan," Dooku says with a gentle smile, turning from me and walking away. "That is important. But you will have to start using your head more often if you want to learn to duel properly." His voice hinted no scold, only advice. He was already out of the dueling area when I caught up with him.
I walked from the white walls of the dueling area, and into the magestic study room next to it with my Master. The lush green carpet was always kept dark and clean, the mahogany bookshelves containing dueling books and other important subjects were neatly arranged and polished, and the firm, soft seats were positioned in front of the large window that looked outward onto Coruscant. I looked out the window. The view had not changed in four years since I had arrived here that night I was taken from my former Master, Migdon Quailmorth.
"You look tired, Qui-Gon," Dooku said with slight gentleness as he motioned to a seat next to him. "Sit. I'll have one of the maids bring you some Johlish Tea if you'd like."
I sat in the seat next to him as he motioned to one of the maids to fetch us some tea. She nodded her head, but as she left I saw the weariness etched on her face. I smiled inwardly as she left the room and turned to my Master. "One of these days, Master, you shall have to get a droid to do the work around here. You're going to kill these maids, the work you've had them do the last few weeks, with rearranging all the study room furniture and all."
Dooku gave out a loud snort of disgust and turned to a book laying next to him. He picked it up as he turned to look at me. "A droid? Here? Come now, Qui-Gon, you know me better than that."
"I'm just saying, Master, think of all the things we could get done alot faster if we had one."
"Poppycock," Dooku flustered, as he thumbed to the next page in his book. "Those buckets of bolts you call 'droids' are completely useless. Disgusting, if I may say so. We have no need for one with living maids such as the ones we have."
"Everyone will eventually have a droid in their home," I mused, "And you will still have the same maids you've always had."
"Now I wouldn't say that," Dooku smiled slightly as he put the book down in his lap. "At some point, I'll have to replace the maids we have," He paused and smiled more. "With some new ones."
I let out a small chuckle as the maid with the tea, Lorisha, set the tray down in front of us on the tea table. Dooku smiled to her with appreciation as she poured him a cup. "Don't laugh, Padawan. You could not find more sophistication in a droid than you could Madam Lorisha and Telinya."
"Thank ye', Master Dooku," Lorisha blushed as she gave him his cup of Johlish Tea. Her Cockne' accent shown as she spoke. "Some tea, Master Jinn?"
"Of course, thank you," I nodded as she poured my drink, her bun of golden hair bobbing a bit.
She was the daughter of Dooku's maid, Telinya, whose husband Lomac had died shortly after Lorisha was born. It was then that Telinya had applied for the job of maid to Master Dooku. Dooku had treated her like family, even helping to raise Lorisha into a maid like her mother. My Master had offered to let Lorisha go and look for a job elsewhere, but she had said that she loved it here too much to leave. I still remember arriving here that day, to be lifted into the arms of Madam Telinya and embraced so tightly, Master Dooku had to pull her away from me to keep me from suffacating. Lorisha, who had been twelve at the time, merely smiled at me and shook my hand. Through the next four years she had called me everthing from 'runt' to 'munchkin' to 'wee one' all the way to Lorisha's recent tauntings of 'froggy', mainly due to my sratchy voice. But all in all, I could never find the will to say anything about it to Master Dooku. She was like a sister to me. And Dooku and Telinya were like parents to me. The one's I'd never had.
"Anytime, Master Jinn," She said curtiously, which I knew was only because Dooku was sitting next to me. Any other time, it would've been 'sure froggy' or something of the sort. She lifted the tea tray and walked behind Dooku's chair and vanished into the kitchen area where I assumed Telinya was as well.
"Good tea," I mumbled, sipping it quietly. Dooku nodded and sipped his silently.
"Indeed." There was a slight silence in the air, and it seemed awkward.
I was finally happy when his master broke the silence. "So," Dooku said lightly, "do you finally see what the style of Makashi has in store for you?" It was not a question that I had expected, or wanted to answer.
"Well," I sighed loudly, "I have given alot of thought into it, Master."
"And?" Dooku urged.
"I am not sure, my Master. Makashi offers a very...unique style of dueling that is quite...," I didn't want to be offensive to my master, "strong."
"There is no 'I'm not sure' in the Jedi world, my Padawan. There is only a 'yes' or 'no'. What is it?" Dooku sounded neither angry nor scolding, but spoke with a soft advising tone that made him very appreciated by all around him. He stared at his apprentice with an apprehensive look.
I could not summon an answer to his question. To be honest, I'd never found the art of Makashi my cup of tea, but to say that to my master would be to insult the very way of his life as a Jedi. And that, was not on my agenda of things to do.
"You do not have to learn Makashi, young one," Dooku reached a hand into the air as if sifting through the Force looking for answers. "You could learn other styles...," There was a hint of sarcastic laughter in his voice, "Such as Ataro perhaps."
"Master Dooku, I know you don't appreciate Ataro!" I said with a half-laugh. "You think it's merely--"
"Silly acrobatics and bouncing foolery," Dooku cut me off, "Yes I know. But it is not my decision on what style of Jedi dueling I use, is it? It is the sole decision of your heart, Qui-Gon, and no one else." Dooku said sharply. "No one else."
"Master, I know what my heart is telling me." It was saying not Makashi...but I couldn't decifer what then, it wanted me to do.
"Then follow it!" Dooku rasped with a slight scold in his voice. "My former master, Yoda, urged me to learn Ataro as he did. But did I? No. I chose the path I wanted! Granted, Yoda didn't take keenly to it, but I did it anyway. Now I offer you the choice that I had to struggle for."
I didn't answer my master at first. I let my head drop and stare at the floor and thought for a while, my head a drift in the Force. Dooku didn't stop my train of thought, merely stood by and let me think my decision out. Dooku was like that. He let you think things out for yourself, and didn't force decisions onto yourself. I ound myself staring at the dark green carpet as I let my mind be one with the Force, to let it flow over in my skull and whisper in my ear the choice that my lone heart could be satisfied with. A settling of plates on the small tea table next to me snapped my mind out of concentration.
"What's all this chatter about Makashies and Ataroos?" Lorisha had set two plates on the tea tray piled high with Danishian cookies. She smiled at the us as I picked up one of the cookies. It was a dark brown color, but sweeter than it looked. I glanced over to Dooku, who was still looking at me, but chewing on a Danishian at the same time.
"We were discussing which Jedi dueling style young Qui-Gon should choose for his lightsaber," Dooku said conversationally.
"Oh," Lorisha's voice suddenly dropped most of it's enthusiasm. She gave him a dull look. "I thought it'd be something interesting."
I had to laugh aloud at this, dropping my cookie at the same time. Dooku merely smiled at her with one eyebrow raised. "You don't find Jedi dueling styles interesting, Miss Lorisha?" My master mused.
"What I don't understand," She said, folding her hands on her chest, "is what the big deal about it all is. It's just a style of fighting, isn't it?"
I picked up my cookie from the carpet as my master surveyed her through his dark eyes. "It is more than just a fighting style, my lady. It is part of the Jedi himself. When the Jedi is ripened from his early training, and his weapon, the lightsaber is constructed fully, the Jedi must choose a style of dueling that he will use for the rest of his knighthood."
"A Jedi only uses one? For the rest of their lives?" Lorisha said with a curious look.
"In a sense," Dooku wavered his hand in the air. "A Jedi can use other styles to make it appear as their main one, but they are only covers. A Jedi absorbs himself in his main form combat and becomes one with it. Becomes the style itself, basically. It is much more than a mere strategic plan. It is an essential part of the Jedi training and of the Jedi himself." Dooku finished and sipped from his tea cup, then laid it down. I looked from him to Lorisha. The look on her face almost made me drop my Danishian again.
"I see," Lorisha said slowly in a sarcastic droll. "Well," She picked up the tea kettle on the tray and started off to the kitchen with it, "In my opinion, not that it matters, I believe Qui-Gon should go with that Ataroo-style or whatever you call it, Masters." Her voice trailed off into the kitchen.
Dooku's glance lingered from the kitchen door back to me. I had to smile as he raised a hand to his chin and took a deep breath. "So I suppose, my Padawan, that your decision will be Ataro?" The question was not hinted with anger of frustration, but with acceptance and slight amusement.
I had to let out a small chuckle as I sipped my tea. "Well, of course I have to now, Master." I shrugged my shoulders and smiled at my master. "Wouldn't want to let Lorisha down, would I?"
Dooku shook his head and took a bite of his Danishian, a small feeling of weariness settling into his features. "You base your choice on what a maid that has only just learned the importance of Jedi dueling styles tells you to choose?"
"Well master, really," I smiled even more broadly at him, "This wouldn't have happened if you had just got a droid to work around here!"
