Obi-Wan stopped at a public terminal after Modern Republic History and checked his schedule. He had daily tutorials with his master in the afternoons, but they were always in a different place; he never knew whether he'd be told to report to the library, a training room, or one of the Temple gardens. Today, he was to meet his master in their quarters. He felt a little relieved; days when they met at home were generally less strenuous, given to review sessions or discussions of concepts Obi-Wan was covering in his readings.

He arrived promptly and began setting his study materials out on the table.

"Good, you're home," said his master, coming out of the kitchen with a glass in his hand. "Would you like some juice?"

"Yes, Master, thank you," Obi-Wan said, accepting the cool glass.

"How was history?" Master Jinn asked, going back into the kitchen and returning with his own glass.

"It was interesting," he said. "We talked about the Nintari uprisings."

His master nodded. "I thought you'd probably be getting there soon. Tell me, what do you think about Ambassador Kiron's position?"

Obi-Wan thought about it. The ambassador in question had been one of the early negotiators sent by the Senate, and had spent the better part of six months making strident but ineffectual attempts to cajole the parties into agreement. He'd been discussed in the background readings, but largely passed over in classroom discussion in favor of the later efforts of Jedi Master Ulom, who had succeeded in drafting a peace agreement acceptable to all parties in the dispute.

"He seemed genuine in his desire for a peaceful resolution," he said. "But his efforts were ineffective because he failed to take into account the role of the Cheneshi religion in the hostilities."

"You are not the first to say so," said his master. "However, how does your theory explain the behavior of Nardelle Jen? She was not a practitioner of Chenesh, nor were any of her family or close friends."

Obi-Wan was quiet for a moment, recalling what he knew about the senator from Nintarrn. "She wasn't Cheneshi," he said finally, "but she was brought up in the Handra province and seems to have adopted Jen'Handra values. Since she was elected to be the representative of her people, to have acted in a way contrary to their religion would have violated her oath and shamed her family."

His master smiled at him. "An insightful analysis," he said.

Obi-Wan wanted to ask if it was the correct one, but stopped himself. If he asked, Master Jinn would just say something about there being no one right answer in diplomacy and give him three opposing viewpoints to read, and an essay.

"Have I overlooked anything important?" he asked instead.

"I think you have a good grasp of the fundamentals," his master replied. "Especially given your current knowledge of the situation. I'm going to assign you some further background reading, and next week you can tell me if you've refined your theory further. Don't read any scholarly analysis of the situation until I tell you otherwise; I want to hear your thoughts on the matter."

At least it wasn't an essay. Yet.

Obi-Wan nodded respectfully. "Yes, Master."

"You've had a busy day," his master continued. "I think we can cut the tutorial a bit short this time. Perhaps you could sleep a little before dinner."

Obi-Wan felt himself blushing. He thought he'd been hiding his fatigue rather well; he shored up his shielding just in case. "I can finish the lesson, Master."

Master Jinn sighed a little and brushed a hand over his hair, ruffling it. "Of course you can, Padawan, but there's no need. You've worked ahead of schedule lately; you can afford a little time off."

"Thank you, Master," Obi-Wan said, "but really, I'm fine to work." He looked at his master suspiciously; he'd never been told to take a nap before, unless he was ill. Perhaps Master Jinn had something else to do?

"I can just work by myself, Master, if you need to be doing something else," he offered.

"You are, of course, welcome to read, Obi-Wan, but there's no shame in resting when you're given the chance," said Master Jinn. "Even Master Yoda naps from time to time. Remember, he fell asleep the last time we were over to tea."

"Master!" Obi-Wan regarded him with shock. "Master Yoda was meditating."

His Master laughed. "Even Master Yoda doesn't snore when he meditates, Padawan. He was sleeping. Just as we meditate to refresh our minds, we must sleep to refresh our bodies, so as to be ready for whatever use the Force has for us."

"Yes, Master."

Master Jinn raised an eyebrow. "But you don't feel the need for any additional rest today?"

"No, thank you, Master. I've got a lot of work to do."

"At least come sit on the couch while you work," his master said. "Keep me company while I'm going through my messages. Maybe you could work on your reading-- didn't you tell me you still had philosophy to get through?"

"Yes, Master," he said, and took his datapads with him to the couch. He stretched out on his side as he liked to do when he had the couch to himself, carefully making sure the soles of his boots didn't touch the upholstery, and leaned his head on the padded arm. He opened the file to the place he'd left off and started to read. The serenity of the Jedi is the serenity of wholeness, of completion, the perfect point of stillness that results when opposing forces are balanced in totality...

Bellan arrived at Qui-Gon's quarters, and the door slid open as she was reaching for the chime.

"Even if you can sense your guests at the door, Qui-Gon, it's generally considered polite to let them ring the chime before you open it," she said.

Qui-Gon shushed her. "I didn't want you to wake Obi-Wan," he said quietly.

"He admitted to needing a nap?" she said. "I must admit I'm surprised."

"Oh, no, he said flat out that he did not require any additional rest today, thank you Master," Qui-Gon said. "But he agreed to lie on the couch to read his philosophy assignment."

"What unit are they covering?"

"Serenity through balance."

She grinned. In her year, they'd called that unit Serenity Through Snoozing. "You're a sneaky one."

"He needs his rest," Qui-Gon said. "I think he's about to have a growth spurt, he's been eating like a starved rancor lately."

"He's a thirteen-year-old boy, Qui-Gon, he practically is a starved rancor," she said. "And speaking of starving, are you planning to let me in tonight or will I be eating in the hall?"

He stood aside. "I suppose I could accommodate you at the table."

"You have ever been generous, my Master," she said teasingly.

They'd been speaking softly, but as she walked into the common room to sit down Obi-Wan startled awake, dropping the datapad he'd had propped on his chest. He sat up, blinking, and looked down at the blanket covering him with a puzzled look. His hair was flattened on one side and his braid was fuzzy.

"Knight Morai," he said, kicking the blanket aside awkwardly and standing to greet her. "I apologize for my appearance," he said formally. There were lines on his cheek from the seams of the couch.

"It's all right, Padawan Kenobi," she said gently, wishing he hadn't woken so soon. "No harm done."

"Please excuse me," he said, and headed off towards the fresher when she nodded.

Qui-Gon came in and handed her a glass of water.

"So," she said, taking a drink. "Where are my pepper cakes?"

"Shhh," he said, looking over his shoulder towards the freshers. "They're in my room, I'll give them to you later."

She blinked at him, puzzled. "Is Obi-Wan not supposed to know you give me sweets?"

"It's not that. It's just that he made you a batch himself when he found out you were coming."

"He baked?" Pepper cakes were notoriously difficult to make. She'd had several spectacular failures at it herself before finally deciding that she'd just have to buy them when she had a craving.

"I came home last night and found him in the kitchen, covered with icing." He looked at her levelly. "He had heard me speak of you often and was anxious to make a good impression."

She flushed. Really, it wasn't fair that Qui-Gon could still make her writhe with that I'm So Disappointed In You, Padawan look. "I did apologize for that."

Obi-Wan emerged from the fresher, damp and a bit pink but impeccably neat, and bowed again. "I'm afraid I fell asleep over my reading," he said. "I'm very sorry for my poor manners, Knight Morai."

"It's fine," she said. "I can't count the number of times I did the same thing when I was your age."

Qui-Gon laughed. "That's an understatement," he said. "You slept constantly at that age. I know for a fact that Master i'Purna wanted the healers to test you for narcolepsy, but they told him you were just growing."

"He did not," she said.

"Perhaps it was thyroid deficiency," Qui-Gon said thoughtfully. She swatted his arm. "He must drive you mad," she said to Obi-Wan, who was watching with wide eyes.

"No, ma'am," Obi-Wan said, his voice managing to be perfectly cordial while still suggesting that it would be disrespectful and un-Jedi-like to be driven mad by one's master. "Shall I prepare the tea, Master?"

"Go ahead, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said. "Thank you."

Obi-Wan smiled at his master and vanished into the kitchen.