Part 3
Exhaustion dogged Qui-Gon's steps as he made his way back from the Council debriefing. The mission to Bandomeer had tested him severely. Both physically and emotionally.
Who'd have thought that that unlikely backwater planet could have changed his life so completely. In so short a time it had forced him to confront his own bitter past and finally face up to the approaching future.
And now all he wanted to do was retire, reflect and… sleep.
But no, he had one more duty to perform. A most important ceremony.
Silently he glanced over his shoulder at the young boy following softly in his footsteps. His senses told him that his new Padawan was also having trouble fighting sleep's siren call, even as he carried his small bag of belongings to his new home and life in Qui-Gon's quarters. The mission had been no easier on Obi-Wan than it had been on him. Maybe harder, due in no small part to himself.
Letting the shame for his behaviour wash through him, Qui-Gon promised himself that he would try his hardest to set things right for this boy. Starting this instant. By the time he was finished this evening Obi-Wan Kenobi would no longer have any doubts as to where he belonged. He had to hope for that with all his heart.
The pair reached the Master's quarters and Qui-Gon palmed the door open. He had not stayed in these rooms for a long time and was not surprised when he was greeting by a cool, impersonal atmosphere. The homely feel that the place had enjoyed in years past was gone.
A bit like himself in recent years, he supposed. There hadn't been a young soul and life in here since…
Obi-Wan shifted uneasily beside him, clearly uncomfortable with being in Qui-Gon's private living space. Qui-Gon frowned. He suddenly realised that as of yet he and the boy were still virtual strangers to one another. For all the hardships they had faced together on Bandomeer, they hadn't really had the chance to get to know one another properly. At least not enough to be comfortable in silence. Which was stretching now.
Quickly attempting to ease Obi-Wan's sudden shyness, Qui-Gon stepped forward placing a warm had on the boy's slim shoulder. "Welcome home, Obi-Wan," he said gently. The boy gave him a shy smile and Qui-Gon squeezed his arm in response. Stepping away he pointed to a doorway on the left side of the living space. "Now, that door there leads to the Padawan's room. It is yours now, Obi-Wan. Everything you need you will find in there." He pointed ahead. "Through there lies the kitchen. A place that, unless I'm very much mistaken, will now need constant restocking."
Obi-Wan flushed and Qui-Gon smiled. As a growing thirteen-year-old boy it was no secret that Obi-Wan was a living food vacuum. "And finally that door to the right leads to my room. This is the living space and I hope you will find it comfortable." Finishing his brief tour, Qui-Gon turned to Obi-Wan. "Now why don't you go and unpack. Make the place your own and then have a wash. Pay special attention to your hair."
Obi-Wan looked baffled and not a little hurt by that last statement. Does he think I'm dirty? Qui-Gon didn't need their fledgling bond to read that thought. He smiled slightly. "No, Obi-Wan, but it is rather important for what I'm about to do. Now go on, you have half an hour then I want to see you back in here, please."
Obi-Wan still looked a little confused but nevertheless moved quickly to obey his new Master, walking awkwardly across the living space.
In completely the wrong direction.
"The other left, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon redirected gently.
Flushing right up to the roots of his hair Obi-Wan quickly changed direction and vanished into the Padawan's room.
Qui-Gon hid his amusement behind shields of iron, knowing full well that at this stage in their relationship it would only hurt and embarrass Obi-Wan further. The boy must be truly overwhelmed by all of this to have made a mistake like that.
Shrugging it off Qui-Gon moved into his own room--the one on the right.
He was pleased to note that everything was as he had left it. The cleaning droids had long ago learned not to rearrange his belongings when he was gone.
Going to a high shelf on the far wall Qui-Gon lifted down an ancient leather case. The supple leather was folded three times like a large wallet and bound carefully by a simple leather thong.
Qui-Gon ran his hand reverently over the dark surface, feeling the polished leather beneath his fingertips, leather smooth by countless work-worn hands. It's continued existance was testament to the craftsman long gone and the care of its multiple owners. Even the beautiful tool work was still visible to a certain extent.
The Master tilted his head. The case would be of little worth on the Coruscant market, but to Qui-Gon it was one of the most valuable things he owned. Absently he started tracing his fingers along the fading patterns, thinking of how Master Dooku had bequeathed it to him on his Knighting day, even as his Master's Master had passed it on to Dooku before that. This simple leather case had travelled down a whole line of Jedi, and Qui-Gon would one day be proud to hand it on to his own Padawan, continuing the distinguished chain.
Smiling wistfully Qui-Gon turned and carried his prize back into the living area.
Glancing at the chrono on the wall he saw that he had about fifteen minutes left before Obi-Wan was due back. Plenty of time to prepare.
Placing his folded case on the low living room table Qui-Gon returned to his room. This time he pulled out a long, little used board. Carrying it back into the next room the Master placed it in the middle of the floor and flipped the board over to reveal a full length mirror.
Two meditation mats laid before the mirror finished the effect, one placed in front of the other.
Task complete, Qui-Gon lowered himself to kneel on the rear mat and waited. Slowly he began to gather the Force to him, centring himself in its serene flow in preparation for what was to come. He would need it.
He did not have to wait long. Obi-Wan appeared five minutes before time as Qui-Gon had half expected. The boy hovered nervously in his doorway, wet hair engulfed in a large towel as he waited on his next instruction
He appeared so young and vulnerable standing there. Nothing like the strong, bold, sometimes impatient boy he had met on Bandomeer.
"Come here, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon instructed him gently.
The boy walked across the room towards him taking in the mirror and the mats upon which Qui-Gon waited.
"Kneel before me, Padawan."
Obi-Wan did so, settling on the mat directly in front of Qui-Gon. He knelt there with his hands clasped on his knees, eyes lowered away from the mirror.
They shot up again when Qui-Gon took hold of the towel and began to properly dry his hair. "Master, please, you don't have to…"
"Quiet, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon told him without pause and Obi-Wan fell silent, eyes returning to the floor, chastised.
Regretting the brusqueness of his order Qui-Gon added in a softer tone. "I know I don't have to, Padawan. But I want to. Please just indulge me for a moment."
He was rewarded when the tension in Obi-Wan's shoulders eased slightly and he allowed Qui-Gon to continue his ministrations, trusting in whatever the Master wished to do.
Gladdened, Qui-Gon carried on with his task until finally he was satisfied that the hair was dry enough for his needs. Setting the damp towel aside he reached for his leather case and placed it at their sides. He caught Obi-Wan giving it a curious glance in the mirror, perhaps wondering what secrets his new Master kept hidden within the leather folds. Qui-Gon suppressed a smile, leaving the case folded and tied. The boy's curiosity could wait a little longer. Instead he reached for a nearby comb and began to brush out the short auburn locks.
Obi-Wan tensed again and Qui-Gon half-expected another protest, but the boy wisely held his silence. Qui-Gon did not pause and by and by the boy relaxed completely under his sure hands, even leaning now and then into the hypnotic rhythm that he created, enjoying the first intimate touch he must have known in a long time. His young soul seemed to cave it. The Force whispered between them, soothing them both.
It was with some regret that Qui-Gon finally laid the brush aside.
Carefully he ran a finger behind Obi-Wan's right ear teasing the remnants of his initiate braid, severed when the boy had been sent to the Agri Corps. Qui-Gon felt the echo of shame and hurt flare to life as his finger brushed over the loose strands.
He squeezed Obi-Wan's shoulder reassuringly with his free hand. "I think it's time we corrected this, don't you, Padawan?" he said giving the hair a slight tug.
A flicker of hope. "Master?"
Qui-Gon smiled, it was not a necessary act that he braid his Padawan's hair, many species of Jedi did not grow any at all, but for Qui-Gon it was an important, iconic symbol between a human Master and his Padawan. He suspected Obi-Wan felt the same.
"I would be honoured to give you your Padawan braid, Obi-Wan Kenobi," he said and the happiness that flowed from Obi-Wan at those words was all the answer he needed to continue.
"Well then, first I'm going to have to do something about this," the Master tugged again on the short remnants of Obi-Wan's previous, unmarked braid.
He reached for his leather case and started to untie the thong binding it closed. But as he did he was quickly and unwillingly overcome by memories of the last time he had done this. So full of hope and pride as he had woven Xanatos' hair for the first time. Sadness tainted the present moment as he thought of how close Xanatos had come to braking this sacred line.
Was he about to make the same mistake again?
Obi-Wan shifted uncomfortably, sensing Qui-Gon's sudden reserve.
For the boy's sake he pushed his doubts aside and unfolded the case. He had promised to make things right for this boy. Obi-Wan was very different from Xanatos. He would not let him down.
He watched as the young man's eyes ran over the revealed contents of the precious wallet. Tucked into one side was an ancient pair of scissors. Woven designs criss-crossed blades that still gleamed silver and sharp. Qui-Gon would not be needing those today. Obi-Wan's hair hadn't yet had chance to grow out of the short Padawan cut. Which was a relief. Xanatos had never thought much of his hairdressing skills and he was badly out of practice.
Beside those ancient silver relics were fixed rows upon rows of tiny beads. Faint reds, blues and greens glinted dully up at him, each one a symbol for a level passed. And today one of them would finally be brought back into service.
Moving beyond the beads, his eyes lighted on the far end of the unfurled case where a closed pocket lay waiting.
It was for this pocket that Qui-Gon reached first. With a faint smile adorning his face, he opened the seal and pulled forth a long dark coil of woven hair. Leather bands tied it off at either end, one feathered, the other clean cut.
His very own Padawan braid.
Obi-Wan seemed to have drawn the same conclusion, because the boy was staring at the braid in something close to awe.
Without a word Qui-Gon drew the old braid from its resting place. Holding it reverently between his hands he rolled the last tie up along the smooth, thin rope until a hand's length hung loose. Then without the slightest hesitation Qui-Gon took up the silver scissors and severed the hair just below the tie.
"Hold this for me, Obi-Wan," he asked and placed the piece he had cut into the boy's shaking hand. Quickly he coiled the rest of the braid and placed it safely back into its pocket, closing it with care.
"Now we are ready," he said and held out his hand. Obi-Wan handed back the strands of hair that he guarded so reverently and waited, his young body filled with tense anticipation. He seemed to have guessed what Qui-Gon planned to do.
Qui-Gon absorbed the boy's emotions then let them flow over him as he drew on the power of the Force. Silently he placed the ends of his old Padawan braid against the tips of Obi-Wan's living hair.
Qui-Gon breathed deep. He would need every ounce of concentration for this. Rarely practiced, except when a braid was lost through mishap or misfortune, this act took phenomenal precision and control of the Force.
Still holding their hair together, Qui-Gon let out his breath and began to channel the power he had gathered through his hand.
Gently and oh so very carefully, he began to join the strands.
Which was when the Force suddenly and inexplicably decided to rip control away from him.
Startled and dismayed, he fought desperately to regain it. He couldn't afford for this to go wrong. But his flailing will was overwhelmed and overruled by a power greater than the universe itself.
Consciousness melted away as the power of life took over and he was caught up in the flow, Obi-Wan drawn right along with him. In the Force their signatures met and mingled. Stretching out before them their bond could be seen like twin lines of light. The Force danced around it, binding the lines together, round and round, until they grew and strengthened, becoming infinitely more powerful. The old became young, the young became old, past and future connected, and for a few precious seconds they were one. The Force blessed it.
It seemed forever had passed before Qui-Gon drew breath and slowly returned to himself. Shakily he lifted his forehead from where it had come to rest on the top of Obi-Wan's head even as the boy opened his eyes with a gasp.
"What was that?"
Feeling the last of the Force drift away Qui-Gon found he couldn't answer. Whatever he said would be a lie. He just knew deep down that whatever had happened it had been a sacred and unique event.
Slowly he lifted his trembling hand to look and there in his palm, reflecting the lines of their bond in the Force, lay the joined strands of their hair, seamless and unbroken, auburn flowing like water into the dark brown.
Qui-Gon swallowed, finding voice enough to speak. No, he couldn't say what had happened back there but one thing he did know for certain. He held the tail of hair out between them. "Now, I am part of you, Obi-Wan," he said softly. "Even as you will always be a part of me."
Wasting no time, he separated the strands into three and began weaving them into a braid. Two inches down he paused and pulled free a red bead from his case, the symbol of a Padawan, and carefully wove it into Obi-Wan's hair. That done he continued, each weave binding them ever closer together as Master and Padawan. When he finished the Force sang its approval.
Qui-Gon drew a breath and let it out slowly before dropping the finished braid to Obi-Wan's shoulder and speaking the ritual words. "It is complete. May you wear this braid as a symbol of the commitment we have made to each other--from now until the day of your Knighting--upon which I will be proud to sever it and welcome you to my side, not as my student, but as my trusted equal and beloved brother." Qui-Gon dropped his hands to Obi-Wan's shoulders and squeezed them gently as he spoke the last.
For a moment Obi-Wan remained still, moved beyond words. His left hand came up, reverently touching the completed braid and the bead that was set there. His fingers brushed Qui-Gon's and he looked up meeting Qui-Gon's eyes in the mirror.
The emotion reflected there tightened Qui-Gon's throat even as it flooded their completed bond with quiet joy. He squeezed Obi-Wan's fingers.
"I welcome you now as my Padawan Learner, Obi-Wan Kenobi," he murmured. And may you be so for many years to come.
After tonight he didn't think the Force would have it any other way.
The thought served to drown all the remaining shadows from Qui-Gon's mind even as his soul overflowed with happiness.
He could finally begin to live again.
Cause you'll be in my heart
Yes, you'll be in my heart
From this day on
Now and forever more. . .
Always