Obi-Wan took the frosted container his master handed him. "Thank you, Master," he said again, noting happily that it was lemon. He wondered if knowing a person's favorite ice flavor was something all masters had to learn to do, or if it was simply a talent of Master Jinn's.
"You're welcome," his master said, and headed off towards the transport stop. Obi-Wan hung back a bit, looking at Knight Morai. She looked back, steadily, as though waiting for a challenge.
Obi-Wan drew a breath and centered himself more deeply. She might be his senior in the Line, but she was not his master and he was not going to spend his apprenticeship worrying about her opinion of him. Anyway, it wasn't as though anything he did at this point would make her think any worse of him than she already did.
"I'm not sure what you were hoping to gain with that little intimidation session," he said, his voice quiet but as firm as he could make it. "You weren't exactly subtle about it, which is only to be expected in someone who had to retake her Senior Diplomacy quals twice. Did you hope I would get angry at you, or go running to my Master in tears? I may be one of his pity cases, Knight Morai, but I am still a Jedi."
"I needed to see how you'd react," she said. "His life will depend on you."
He faced her squarely, drawing his shoulders back. "I appreciate the fact that you care for my master, but he doesn't need your protection, not from me. I am not Xanatos, Bellan Morai. I will not betray my master, and I will not Turn."
She looked at him for a long moment, her narrowed eyes still coolly appraising but no longer hostile. "See that you don't," she said, "and things will go well with you." She turned on her heel and strode off after Master Jinn.
Obi-Wan followed slowly, eating a bite of his ice. All in all, he thought, it had gone surprisingly well. He didn't like to think about what might have happened if Knight Morai had chosen to fight back.
He sank into his seat on the transport in relief, feeling as though he'd just run ten kilometers. He didn't know how he was going to do saber class in twenty minutes.
The transport ride back to the Temple was largely silent.
They arrived at the Temple with only a few minutes to spare. Obi-Wan shot his master an imploring look and received a nod in reply; he hurried off towards the training wing, not quite running but coming as close to it as Jedi dignity would allow.
"Beginning saber?" Bellan asked, inclining her head toward Obi-Wan's retreating figure.
"High Beginners, actually," Qui-Gon said.
"Isn't he a bit young for that?"
"Obi-Wan needed the challenge," Qui-Gon said. "I was going to observe him today; you're welcome to join me if you haven't anything else scheduled." He gave her a pointed look. "You may find the experience enlightening."
In other words, he was going to enjoy seeing her proved wrong about something. She looked in the direction Obi-Wan had gone. "Well, then," she said, "by all means let us go watch him."
All of the training rooms in the Temple were equipped for observation. Some, like the Grand Salle in the center of the Temple, had tiered seating enough for large numbers of spectators; most, however, had either a few rows of benches or a shielded observation gallery.
The High Beginners lightsaber class was the first one to introduce the aerial moves of the Fourth Form, and the last prerequisite for the first Standard Saber sequence. Bellan had been fifteen when she'd taken High Beginners; Obi-Wan was either quite advanced for his age or was being pushed by his Master into a class he wasn't ready for-- probably the former. Qui-Gon had his moments of spectacular blindness, but he was an excellent teacher.
Qui-Gon and Bellan took their seats in the elevated gallery that overlooked the floor, which was divided into twenty large squares, each of which was of adequate size for a pair of students to spar. The class had already begun, and the students were lined up in neat rows, doing a warm-up kata.
Obi-Wan was in the front row, easy to pick out; his form was very good, but he was easily head and shoulders smaller than most of the other students. She raised an amused eyebrow at Qui-Gon.
"I suppose after sparring with you, he's not intimidated by bigger children," she said wryly.
Qui-Gon grinned. "Size matters not," he said mildly.
"Ah, the enduring wisdom of the line of Yoda," she said, relaxing into the teasing conversation with relief.
"Just as well for you," he said. "You're still the same height you were when you were fourteen."
"And you were quite happy about that on Ledura V when someone had to crawl through seven kilometers of conduit," she said.
"The Force presents us with opportunities according to our gifts," he said. The class was breaking into pairs for their opening spar, where they would be expected to show the results of their practice since the last class. Qui-Gon leaned forward, watching as Obi-Wan made his way to his assigned square.
"We've been doing a lot of work on his low offense," he said.
"Not the high guard?" She remembered drilling her high guard for untold hours when she was in High Beginners.
"He gets plenty of work on his high guard," Qui-Gon said, as Obi-Wan saluted his opponent, a sturdily built Twi'lek boy.
"I imagine he does," Bellan said, eyeing the pair. "It seems like he'd spend all his spars running around the square while his opponent rains down blows from above."
"He does fairly well," Qui-Gon said. "He's got agility on his side."
The teaching Master gave the signal to begin, and the pairs began to spar. Obi-Wan surprised Bellan by taking the offensive almost from the first, fighting with a fierce energy. She watched carefully for signs of dangerous aggression, but found none. Obi-Wan was bold but not angry; his opponent would have been quickly defeated were it not for his superior strength and reach. He managed to drive Obi-Wan to the corner of the square, where it looked as though he would either have to take a hit or step out of the boundary, conceding the match, though he held his ground doggedly against his partner's attacks.
"He should concede," Bellan said. "No use wearing himself out." Obi-Wan would have an extended lesson in new techniques after the opening spar, and then one or more practice spars after that; he would need to conserve energy.
"Not yet," said Qui-Gon, just as Obi-Wan managed to execute a neat somersault over the other boy's head and tag him in the left shoulder.
"He also has determination on his side," Qui-Gon said, looking smug.
Bellan watched as Obi-Wan bowed respectfully to his opponent, and then said something to him; the other boy laughed and nudged Obi-Wan playfully.
"I must admit, I wouldn't have been such a good sport if I'd beaten someone that much larger than me at that age," she said, watching Obi-Wan smile sunnily up at the boy he'd just defeated.
"He and Jendril were in Mid Beginners together," Qui-Gon said. "They get paired fairly often, and have become friends." He shot her a look. "You, on the other hand, were always a bit too intense about your training to socialize with your sparring partners."
"Say what you mean, Qui-Gon," she said, watching as the students lined up for forms instruction. "I was a bad winner and a worse loser."
"I'm glad to see Master i'Purna's copious meditations on self-knowledge weren't wasted, at least," he said, his eyes tracking Obi-Wan's blue blade as he stepped through a deflection technique at one-eighth speed.
"I did eventually realize that it's quite unbecoming for a Jedi to gloat," she said wryly. "Which, I imagine, is why you pointedly aren't bringing up your Padawan's obvious fine qualities."
"Have you already given up the idea that I'm nurturing a viper at my breast?" he said, his voice sharpened a little. "I must admit, I find that surprising. You don't usually concede so easily."
"He's a persuasive boy," she said, sorry that she'd brought the subject up again. The students were up to half-speed now, forty blades flashing in measured, elegant arcs.
"More than I knew, apparently, if he's managed to change your mind about him in between the Plaza and the transport stop," Qui-Gon said. "What on earth did he say to you?"
She snorted a laugh. "He told me to go to hell."
Qui-Gon turned towards her, his face almost shocked. "He did what?"
"He did! Although he said it a bit more politely," she said. "He told me that my intimidation tactics were laughably obvious, although perhaps not surprising from someone who had to retake the SenDip quals twice, and that regardless of what sort of paranoid notions I had about him, he was not, in fact, Xanatos, and had no intention of Turning, or of betraying you, which he seems to regard as the greater crime."
"He's always been such a polite child," Qui-Gon murmured, staring down at where his apprentice was weaving a net of blue light around himself as he went through the pattern at full speed.
"Only to a point, apparently," Bellan said, "which makes me feel much better about him, to tell the truth. I don't trust anyone who's always polite to me." Xanatos, for instance, had always been unfailingly courteous when they met, and had never shown his true feelings until the day he'd raised his saber against his own Master.
Qui-Gon snorted. "Of that, I was aware," he said. "There's a reason you always did the information gathering while I was talking to the government officials."
"The Force never meant me for a diplomat," she agreed cheerfully. Although she would be well served by developing more of it, she had always loathed diplomacy.
"Yes, and you were always a bit too happy to admit it," he said.
"I am resigned to the Will of the Force," she said, keeping her mouth a prim little line.
He tugged her braid gently. "Bellan, you've never been resigned to anything."
"You know me well." She leaned back in her seat letting her arm brush Qui-Gon's as they watched the students drill. She had missed him a great deal.
She studied Obi-Wan without conscious thought, watching the patterns his movements made, and frowned a little. "His supporting leg is shaky," she said.
"Yes," said Qui-Gon. "He seems unusually tired today. I can't imagine why."
She recalled the exhausted slump Obi-Wan's shoulders had taken on in the transport back to the Temple and felt a wash of remorse. She kept her eyes fixed on the students as they paired up for their final spar, where they'd be expected to use the techniques they had just learned. Obi-Wan was lining up beside a slim human girl only a little taller than he was.
"Is she going to be an easier opponent," she said, "or a more difficult one?"
"Much more difficult," Qui-Gon said. "She's two years older than he is and every bit as fast. She'll give him trouble." He raised an eyebrow. "As I imagine you're quite well aware."
She grinned. "Everyone underestimates the little girl until she's got a saber to their balls," she said, and he laughed.
"Indeed," he said. "It's a lesson I think Obi-Wan is quickly going to take to heart."
They watched as the match began. It quickly became apparent that Obi-Wan was having considerable difficulty with his opponent, who was keeping him busy defending against a barrage of attacks. Twice he managed to avoid what looked like a sure hit, but was never able to regain his momentum enough to go on the offensive for long. Still, he fought doggedly. He'd obviously spent most of his training defending against larger opponents; she wondered if Qui-Gon had gotten him sparring partners of his own size in tutorial.
Below them, Obi-Wan dodged a blow, and while his opponent was overextended he jumped, flying over her head in an attempt to catch her off-guard as he'd done to Jendril earlier. But he'd misjudged his timing and came out of the flip too late, staggering on his landing and throwing his arms wide to regain his balance. While he was open, his opponent pivoted neatly and tagged him in the middle of the chest.
Bellan sighed, and then turned to glare at Qui-Gon when he chuckled, feeling sheepish; she'd hoped that Obi-Wan would win. At least then she wouldn't have had to feel bad about wearing him out with interrogation over his lunch.
"Engaging, isn't it?" he said mildly.
"I've always loved a good saber match," she said.
"You and Obi-Wan have that in common, then," Qui-Gon said. "I sometimes think he spends all his rest allotments watching the Knights and Masters spar."
She laughed. "He's probably trying to pick up ideas," she said.
"I remember when you tried to do a Yandrip Feint in tutorial and almost cut off your own head," he said. "I should hope that Obi-Wan would have more sense than to attempt techniques he isn't ready for."
"I just didn't realize you kicked off the near leg," she said. "I almost had it, and I would have beaten you if I'd gotten it right."
"And that's worth a scorched neck?"
"Beating you would have been," she said. "I had a standing bet with Toril Narr that if I ever got you two falls out of three, he'd buy me a three-course meal off-Temple." Bellan watched as the class filed into the locker rooms. "Do you have tutorial with Obi-Wan today?"
"I do tutorial with him every day he has classes," Qui-Gon said, rising and gesturing for her to follow.
"Why so often?"
"Older initiate classes are different from the Padawan classes, and Obi-Wan got more advanced in some areas than others," Qui-Gon said. "He's ahead in maths and sciences but behind in cultures and fine arts, and right on track for his age in history and philosophy. I'm doing some external work with him so he can start Intermediate Astronavigation next cycle and the Cultural Surveys sequence the cycle after that."
She shuddered at the memory of Cultural Surveys, a series of courses on the cultures of major Republic worlds. "I hated Cultural Surveys," she said.
"Well, the information is a bit shallow," Qui-Gon said, "but they do well enough considering the time constraints they're under, and I can always supplement later."
"I'm going to remember you said that," she said, "and then when Obi-Wan is doing the unit on Krutuni shriek-choirs, I'm going to come over when you have a headache and laugh."
"You would, too. You have no respect for your poor old Master."
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, the fifteen eternal years that separate us make you a truly ancient being." They walked in companionable silence for a bit.
"Qui-Gon," she said at last, "have you thought about having Obi-Wan spar with someone closer to his size in tutorial? He fights as though his opponents are much bigger than he is, regardless of their size-- I think with a few adaptations to his technique he would have won both his matches today."
"We haven't spent much time on-Temple since I took Obi-Wan as my Padawan," he said, looking pleased, "but I had intended to recruit someone to do that within the next cycle or two, as scheduling permits."
"I could show him a little," she offered. "Nothing too advanced, since I don't know when I'll be sent out again, but at least a few foundational techniques, some tricks I've picked up on missions, that sort of thing. If you think he'd be able to forgive me enough to work with me, that is."
Qui-Gon beamed. "If he hadn't forgiven you before, Bellan, he certainly would do so at an offer like that. Lightsaber is his favorite discipline."
"Perhaps early next week, then?" she suggested. "I should still be in-Temple then."
"I'll send you a message," he said, and smiled at her.