Obi-Wan put the kettle on and began gathering dishes and food. He and Master Jinn usually had tea and a snack during Obi-Wan's afternoon tutorial and then ate a light meal late in the evening, but tonight they were going to have sandwiches and a late tea with Knight Morai. Obviously, it was the Will of the Force that he learn to maintain his serenity under all circumstances.

He sliced vegetables and arranged them on plates while he waited for the water to boil, and cleared his datapads off the table to make room for the dishes. He'd thought they could have a nice light meal, with sandwiches and cakes at tea. His master had been very pleased at the suggestion.

"Knight Morai," he said politely, "do you take your tea the way Master Jinn takes his?"

"Skies, no," she said, laughing. "I'd sooner drink mud. I like mine about half that strong, with sugar. You needn't make two pots, though, I can just dilute mine with hot water."

"You ruin the flavor that way," Master Jinn said. "Might as well be drinking sweetened hot water and forego the tea altogether."

"There's no flavor to ruin in that Dagobahn swamp water you call tea," Knight Morai retorted, and Obi-Wan went back to the kitchen, wondering how his Master and Knight Morai had ever been effective in the field arguing as much as they did. Of course, his master acted much the same way when he was talking to Master Yoda, with every evidence of enjoyment. Perhaps the Line selected for argumentativeness. It might explain all the essays.

The kettle boiled, and Obi-Wan poured water into two pots; he'd make one strong for his master and one normal strength for himself and Knight Morai. While the tea steeped, he pulled out the stasis dish he'd put in the cabinet and removed the lid. He'd tried to make Thyferran pepper cakes, which his master had mentioned were Knight Morai's favorite. He was tempted not to serve them at all; she'd probably hate them anyway, and Force knew she didn't need any further reason to hate him, even if Master Jinn did seem to be making her be nice now. His master had seen him trying to ice the Sith-accursed things the night before, and if Obi-Wan failed to produce them at tea he might ask about them, and then Obi-Wan would have to explain himself in front of Knight Morai, who already thought he was a failure waiting to happen. Bad enough that she thought he couldn't even do his work without falling asleep like a child; he wasn't about to give her any room for criticism of his master's hospitality.

He set his jaw, and started transferring the tiny square cakes to a serving platter, picking them up with the sugar tongs. He had no idea if they had turned out properly; the icing had to cure after it was applied and the cakes had only been ready that afternoon. He hesitated. Thyferran pepper cakes were spicier than he liked, but Madame Denarre had encouraged him to try one when he'd gone to her for advice on making them. "It doesn't matter whether you like the flavor, child," she'd said. "You just need to be able to recongnize it, so you'll know when you've got it right."

His tongue has burned for the rest of the afternoon, but he knew what a properly made pepper cake was supposed to taste like.

The cakes were a favored delicacy on their planet of origin, eaten to celebrate a religious festival in honor of the gods of fire and ice. The cakes and the icing each contained a different native spice; when combined in the presence of moisture, the two compounds produced an endothermic chemical reaction, cooling the mouth of the being eating the cake. The novelty of the combination of spicy cake and cooling sweet icing was responsible for the dish's great popularity on other planets, where the cakes were customarily decorated with stylized blue and scarlet flames.

Obi-Wan had ruined five cakes before he'd given up on the flame pattern; even with the aid of the Force, there was only so much one could learn to do in a limited time. He'd settled for tinting the frosting scarlet and blue, and piping on scrollwork designs in contrasting colors.

He picked up the first cake he'd done, the one where the icing was tinted the wrong color, and popped it into his mouth. As he chewed, he felt the cake cool the inside of his mouth until he felt like he'd been eating ices, while at the same time his tongue burned. The cakes might look amateurish, but they tasted right; Madame Denarre would be pleased that he'd managed to do it properly.

He arranged everything on the table and eyed it. It looked good, he thought. Even the most unreasonable of guests would be hard-pressed to find something to criticize.

"Master, tea is ready," he said, when his master and Knight Morai had reached a lull in their conversation.

"Thank you, Padawan," his master said, rising.

"It looks lovely, Obi-Wan," Knight Morai said, taking her seat. He felt a flash of annoyance at her; the least she could do was at least be consistently hateful. Of course, he thought glumly, she had probably seen him drooling on himself on the couch, and decided he was too incompetent to do any damage.

"Thank you, Knight Morai," he said, bowing.

Bellan watched Obi-Wan pour the tea. His manners and composure were flawless, and ever since the incident at lunch he'd been treating her to an icily perfect courtesy and adamantine shielding. She sighed. She obviously needed to work on her tactics; there was probably a way to have reassured herself of the boy's suitability without having made an enemy of him.

She set her jaw. Well, then. She'd just have to do things the hard way. She'd won the trust of crime lords, slavers, corrupt princes, even minor Republic bureaucrats. Surely she could manage one defensive Jedi Padawan with hurt feelings.

She eyed the plate of pepper cakes dubiously, hoping that they tasted all right; she'd have to be appreciative of them regardless, and badly made pepper cakes could be horrifyingly disgusting, as she knew from her own failed attempts at them.

She noticed that Obi-Wan was drinking the weaker tea she favored, rather than Qui-Gon's swamp mud. Good. Maybe they could bond over how horrible the stuff was-- although she'd have to be careful not to seem to be disparaging Qui-Gon; the kid had been downright frosty when she'd been teasing his master before.

Face facts, Morai, she thought. The kid obviously thinks the moons rise at Qui-Gon's will; Xanatos, may his balls rot in the ninth hell, thought that the galaxy was organized for his own convenience. Qui-Gon couldn't have picked a more loyal apprentice if he'd devoted all his time for a year to the search. And Kenobi would have probably transferred a part of that loyalty to you out of respect for his Master if you hadn't come in like a Grand Inquisitor and fucked it up.

She sighed. There was going to be meditation on arrogance in her future. Her knees twinged in anticipation.

She finished her sandwich and reached for a cake, taking tight hold of her control. If it was bad, she could absolutely not make a face.

Stars, he'd even iced them. The scrollwork decorations were a little crooked, but the colors were beautifully vivid.

"Thank you for these, Obi-Wan," she said. "This is my favorite dessert, and you don't find them much outside the big cities, especially not out on the Rim where I've been."

"You're quite welcome, Knight Morai," he said. "I was glad to be able to provide them."

The kid would make one hell of a diplomat when he grew up. It took most people years to master the ability to convey dislike without saying a single thing anyone could find offensive.

She bit into the cake and nearly dropped it in surprise as the cooling reaction burst over her tongue. Cool sweetness and tingling spice: the kid had somehow managed to get the perfect balance.

"Damn, Obi-Wan!" she said, reaching for another cake. "Those are fantastic. How on earth did you manage to get the icing to react properly?"

Obi-Wan went a bit pink, the remnants of the couch lines on his face standing out. "I asked Madame Denarre," he said. "She told me that you have to make sure that the Thyfer spice is powdered, not just ground."

"They taste perfect," she said. "I'm very impressed." She put two more cakes on her plate. They were small, after all, and she'd had a long day.

She definitely needed to get the kid on her side.