A/N: The first part of what will probably be a two or three-parter regarding Huei's nonexistent coping with Obi-Wan's disappearance in Chapter 35 of The Silent Song.

Music: Sounds from Scattered Seashells, Obfusc

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Home is the Sailor (Part 1)


Two weeks after Qui-Gon Jinn departs on his search for his padawan, Feemor Ner'iah comes to a decision regarding Huei Tori.

"This will not stand," he whispers to himself.

Huei's bedroom door closes, its occupant having said no more to Feemor than a quiet, "Goodnight, Master," after yet another day at his Senate apprenticeship.

Feemor closes his eyes, briefly. Chancellor Valorum has nothing but praise in his reports. Huei's conduct has been impeccable, his work brilliant and indispensable. To the casual observer, Huei remains completely, perfectly functional, despite the loss of his closest friend to an unknown fate at the hands of slave traders.

It is perhaps what might be expected from a young, exceptional Jedi.

It is not what is expected from a fifteen-year-old young Nautolan who has very recently, and possibly permanently, lost his best friend to slavery.

Ezhno had wept, when Feemor told the two of them. Huei had not, nor has he since. There is something steel-lined and beskar-etched about this version of Feemor's padawan – an echo back to his days under Dooku's teaching. Masked. Emotionless. Distant.

Not the boy who loves to cook, and read volumes of raised Aurebesh late into the night – works his former master forbid him to read, of far-off lands and fanciful imagination.

And so, late in the evening as it is, Feemor goes to find the Council.

"Master Ner'iah," Mace says. "The hour grows late. Why have you convened us so?" His voice is not a sigh, but it is very close to one.

Looking into Mace's grave eyes, Feemor notes with a tug of his heartstrings that Ezhno's brash voice has been rather less present in the Temple in the last fortnight. Mace, too, has been noted by many to spend more time in his quarters than was his wont before. It is not difficult to see the connection.

Even Ezhno must find a safe place to weep.

It would seem Mace knows the deeper effects of the loss of Obi-Wan Kenobi just as well as Feemor.

"Masters," Feemor says, inclining his head, "I wish to acquire two weeks' leave for my Padawan and I."

"Not necessary to convene the Council it was, for this," Yoda harrumphs, green eyes sharp under deceptively heavy eyelids.

"It is necessary because of where I intend to take him," Feemor answers. "With your permission, masters, I would take Huei to Glee Anselm."

A beat, in which more than one member of the Council's Force-signatures fluctuate in surprise. One member in particular is examining Feemor with such intensity that Feemor finds himself hard-pressed to ignore it.

He blinks slowly, and does not return Dooku's gaze. He keeps his eyes trained dead ahead, instead.

Mace's fingers tap his knee with ponderous gravity. "I see," he says. "I trust you have a reason?"

"In the wake of Obi-Wan's disappearance, Huei has not been himself," Feemor says. "I feel that he has…regressed."

"Regressed?" Yoda says, a frown further wrinkling his brow.

Feemor pauses. Dooku's gaze is still heavy upon him.

He chooses his words with care. "I have not seen him in such a state since our earliest days as Master and Padawan. He is…withdrawn. Cold. He functions as well as he ever has, but Huei has always had an affinity for adaptation. Unfortunately, it seems that in this particular instance he inadvertently protected himself by not responding at all."

A new voice interjects. "Then what is the purpose of bringing him to the place of his birth?" Dooku says, voice like sharpened silk. "We all saw how Padawan Kenobi's sudden encounter with his estranged family unbalanced him."

"I don't quite think that is the right word," Feemor replies, unable to completely hide the bite in his tone despite his best efforts. He is returning his grandmaster's stare now, unwaveringly. "And I would ask you not to apply the same reasoning to Huei."

"I find myself unable to ascertain your meaning," Dooku replies, eyes narrowing dangerously.

Feemor's eyes flash. "Huei is my padawan, and I am bringing what I see as our shared best course of action before the Council."

His emphasis on the word my does not go unnoticed.

Yoda's stick connects with the marble floor in a sharp crack.

Feemor tears his gaze away from the spark of anger in Dooku's.

"Withdraw and wait, Master Ner'iah," Yoda says. "Confer, the Council must."

Feemor inclines his head and deliberately refuses to meet Dooku's eyes again on the way out.

The five-minute wait seems longer than usual, but soon he is back before the half-circle of twelve seats.

"Grant you a fortnight's leave, we do," Yoda harrumphs. "But carefully tread you must, Master Ner'iah."

"Thank you, masters," Feemor says, inclining his head. As he does so, he sneaks a glance at his grand-master between the long columns of hair on either side of his chin.

Dooku's face is as empty and unreadable as a seamless mask.

Mace remains silent, but he is watching Feemor with the same expression he sometimes gives Qui-Gon; the one Feemor knows translates to I-sure-hope-you-know-what-you're-blasted-doing.

Feemor takes his leave, strides slowly through the quieting halls of the Temple, and carefully slides open Huei's bedroom door when he returns to quarters.

Huei is asleep, his headtresses spread in a navy fan across his pillow, the silver-white of his padawan braid glimmering like pearls in a frozen sea. Still in slumber like this, the slow sharpening of his jaw and the gradual lengthening of his headtresses is all the more prominent; the slow wiping away of childhood.

Feemor knows his padawan is too much of a light sleeper to risk running a gentle hand over those still headtresses, but he crosses to the window to ensure that there is just enough of a breeze to keep the room cool. Huei has taken to sleeping with the blinds up since he lost his sight; the ever-present lights of Coruscant washes the chamber in an undulating pattern of soft yellow-white light, like sunlight on the ocean floor.

Feemor closes the door softly behind him. He will wake Huei in the morning.

There is time, yet.


I'll try to have part 2 up sometime soon, but since my new and final year of medical school starts this Saturday (Yes, June 2, and a Saturday to boot. I've gotten used to how abnormal my university schedule is by now) I won't have as much time as I've had these past three weeks. I did have a lovely time in Hokkaido last week, though.

After we finish this short three-parter, we'll have one more chapter featuring Ezhno and then begin Arc 5 of The Silent Song.