It is perhaps the most unusual pairing that the Jedi order has ever produced. For one, there are very few who believed the tall, dark man would even become master to a padawan. All of them knew he would eventually attain the rank of 'master'; that had never been in question.
But the hip-high, lanky boy tottering along at his side presents the picture of a rogue star that has attached itself to a most unwilling planet, bringing light where light had never been welcomed. Little flipper-befooted Qui-gon is a bright contradiction to his ever stern-faced mentor. When his overgrown feet rush ahead of the rest of him, the boy trips and throws out a soft, wrinkle free hand, grasping at the nearest anchor point, fingers curling into the folds of a dark robe that had ventured to numerous mad worlds that would surely have smothered this child to death within seconds of his arrival.
Surprisingly, impossibly, a scarred, calloused, aged hand flicks out and deftly captures the young miscreant by the scruff of his tunic and straightens him once more. "Patience, boy. How many times must I repeat myself?"
The words are clipped, bordering on a soft growl for all the warmth that's in them (there really isn't much), but the child only offers a sheepish grin in return. "Sorry, master."
The stern master merely looks away, glowering.
It is not an unfamiliar sight, Cin muses as he studies his old clan-mate. Even so… there is something slightly off about Yan Dooku. Something off in the glower.
"Master Dooku, Qui-gon!" he greets when they get closer. "How are the two of you this fine morning?"
Yan's expression merely flattens into one of resignation. He answers with a whispered sigh and a subtle nod.
Qui-gon is fairly bursting with excitement. "Hello, Master Drallig! We're going to the dojo!"
Cin smiles at the boy's enthusiasm and then raises a brow at the dark figure beside him. "A little early for a training bout, isn't it? The sun's barely woken up."
A single, dark, imperious brow ticks up in return as Cin is faced with the Sentinel's signature half-smirk, half-condescending smile. "Nonsense, Cin. You of all people should hardly be arguing the proper time to get in a good hour of training. Besides…" Here the normally eloquent master pauses and his face twitches into a longsuffering, puckered expression. "The boy has already assured me that he has eaten what can only be described as a small feast and will be just fine."
"Already eaten…" Cin frowns, wondering exactly when the child had the time to scarf down so much food in the quarters of a master who regularly awoke in the wee hours of the morning. Yan Dooku would not be one to allow his apprentice such free reign in the kitchen.
But Qui-gon puts his doubts to rest when he leans forward and whispers loudly, "Master drank his special tea last night, so I was able to get up before him."
"Special tea?" Cin echoes, smiling wryly at the scowling master. "Indeed. I see. Well. I suppose I shall leave you two to it, then." After all, any Jedi worth his salt knows when to retreat. "Enjoy your morning."
But the other master lands the parting blow as he pins Cin with his dark, glinting eyes. "Not a word, Cin," he mutters, too quiet for his padawan to hear.
But Cin's smile only grows. "Your boy's a keeper, my friend. Do well by him."
The glower he receives is expected, but there is still something off about it. He doesn't know what that something is until the master turns back towards his apprentice and the two amble off down the hallway in the direction of the dojo, the taller of the two chastising the other in his honey-smooth, edgy baritone.
"I see a lesson in respect is in order."
"Yes, master."
"I warned you, boy."
"I won't tell next time."
"You're missing the point entirely."
"… but Master Drallig won't tell."
"Qui-gon."
And the boy falls silent, because he does understand what Yan is telling him, and Yan knows this and Cin, standing still and watching their retreating backs, knows this as well. And while he is thoroughly amused by the conversation, his attention is focused elsewhere.
He is watching them more than listening to them. Yan moves in a straight, purposeful line in graceful, silent steps as if he owns every square inch of floor that he walks on, but his padawan is all over the place. Young Qui-gon seems to know where a padawan should walk, but he remains two steps behind and to Yan's left for all of a few seconds before he is wandering somewhere new to look at a painting on a wall or stare out of a window, all the while replying to his master's rebukes in a distracted, lighthearted tone. They make an odd pair: a master who clearly knows his place and an apprentice who seems intent on discovering every place but his own.
Cin notices why Yan's glower is different the moment more Jedi appear. Qui-gon, having been a full seven feet to Yan's left and two strides in front of him (and why does Yan, of all people, allow that?) immediately takes note of the new visitors and drifts back to his master, returning to a padawan's proper position. A wandering star returning to its anchor-point.
Or not. Cin blinks, eyes widening just a touch. No…
Yan is no anchor-point, not in the traditional Jedi sense since he is most certainly not a traditional sort of Jedi. Though most would look at his mannerisms and speech patterns and commend him for his noble Jedi traditionalism. The man is a master at putting on an act and always has been.
No, this is not a star looking for a planet to attach itself to. Cin has a feeling Qui-gon isn't the type to remain in one place for long. He is, instead, a youthful bright spark that has breathed life into a simmering, yet dying, ember. Both of these Jedi, one very young and one older than he looks, are outliers of sorts. Their fire is different. Yan's has always been different, Qui-gon's is different, and so Yan allows the haphazard wandering because he knows what it is. His glower had held a spark of mischief, and that mischief had been light. A foreign, yet not entirely unwelcome, light. Qui-gon's light.
Cin frowns at that. This is one rogue star, dimly lit, encouraging a much younger and brighter rogue star to follow it.
The Council might frown upon it too.
Cin isn't sure what to do with it, but true to Qui-gon's words, he keeps his thoughts to himself.