Chapter 4: The Force (users) sleep(s)
The walk to the dormitories was subdued, the younglings drained after their afternoon run. Beldorion expected, however, that his fellows would find new energy once there, away from the eyes of the instructors. The dormitories were large, yet utilitarian, he appreciated. There were bunk beds next to the walls, the square room lined everywhere with beds except for one exit on the back (that'll be the bathrooms), and the entrance they had arrived from. Turning back to look at the rest of the younglings, he realized the reality of his (mild) concerns, seeing how he was approached as soon as the doors closed behind them, with the children forming a loose circle, curious faces itching to continue their education, in a more relaxed setting. Some, however, seemed to be anticipating a confrontation, if he was not mistaken. First to step forward were the two oldest children he had noticed during the run, side by side. These two are friends, and concerned about me, their smaller friends, or their standing here. Let's see how this plays out then, he thought as he turned towards them, with a pleasant expression.
"Well, if it isn't the oldest youngling in a few cycles." Well, alright then, I would have liked a friendlier opening, but it could have been worse, Bel thought, resigned. "Friend Ta'gen," he replied, "you are my senior, and you know so much about the Temple, please don't be mean about my age. I may be one or two cycles older, but inside I am younger, and your experience is far above mine!" Oh no, that may have been too simpering, he might think I'm making fun of him now... Having the script flipped, however, seemed to throw Ta'gen Blok off for a moment, until he realized he was being complimented (and in an honest manner too). Quickly changing tack, he continued. "Yeah, well, just follow our lead and that'll be just astral." He rubbed the back of his head (looks like a standard Corellian male, Bel thought), seemingly at a loss to know how to continue. His apparent friend snickered at the 180 turn (doesn't sound malicious, or like he figured me out at least), and added "Hi, he's Ta'gen and I'm Bink Jorda. Guess it's true you are more like 6 than 12 standard?" Nice save, thought Beldorion. They really are friends, concerned I'll be making trouble it seems.
The introduction made, the floodgates opened, and Bel explained that yes, he was born 12 years ago, but since Hutts matured slower, he was thereabouts a 6 year old human, he would get bigger with age, and whatever other question they came up with (and nobody asked about the Rawwks and the bees, he praised the Force), while he mostly tried to get to know the future padawans. As it turned out, manipulating them was both easier, and much more morally repugnant than expected, so he opted to remain open, friendly, and in the case of the more experienced Initiates, somewhat deferential. A smashing success compared to some visions, he considered, they almost feel too friendly. Then again, I guess Jedi are all about compassion and understanding. Giving a mental shrug, he began asking questions about them, and the Temple. They gushed about lightsaber classes, complained about history and languages ("but Master Beq sometimes tells good stories!", piped Bolb Sentia, a perky 5 year old), and explained their daily routine, with some humorous asides from Bink, and "sagely" advice from Ta'gen. That one did take his role as an older brother very seriously, while Bink tried to stop him becoming too serious.
By the time the lights out announcement came, he had been reintroduced to everyone, played a few Dejarik games (being terrible at it, and no, not on purpose), had the lightsaber forms (poorly) explained to him multiple times ("that is not how you do it, chipbrain"), listened to the same anecdotes about Master Yoda in the words of the three different witnesses, as well as those of five unrelated younglings who still thought it had happened either "more wizard," or alternatively, "wasn't even possible, poodoo-head!", so that was a lively discussion. In exchange, he told them tales about Nal Hutta, his genitors (not as relatable for them since they didn't have any), and some visions framed as Jedi legends he had "heard somewhere". In the end, they seemed to have provisionally accepted his presence, even if the jury was still out on a final veredict. Pretty good, and it's only been a day. Bel considered, pleased. I am just one more of the younglings, again, and a tired one at that, he mused, as he prepared for sleep.
Right before he begged to retire, one of the younger kids (is she the actual youngest? At the very least she's the tiniest) broached another, critical topic. "You look like a huge pillow Beldo (that's a new nickname, let's see if it catches on), are you soft like one too?" Ta'gen, Bel noticed, had a tiny smile while Bink snickered. "Eh... (Force damn it, flustered by a literal baby) I don't think I am, friend... Icia?" He looked at Ta'gen, who nodded. "Hutt flesh is like every..." And she is already prodding me. Taking advantage of his immobility, Icia Vos (One of them Kiffar, I think), had already sat down and reclined against him, directly testing his softness. With a grunt, he was apparently deemed acceptable. Nobody else tried, however, opting to remain cautious. Of course, it was not like he was big enough yet to serve as pillow to many of them, in any case. The conversation continued, as the lights were turned out, until the voices died down, their owners falling asleep, like younglings everywhere do. Around the Temple, the city remained awake. Around the planet, the Force shifted and flowed, connected to all, beholden to none.
Author's note:
The dorms at boarding schools are always full of gossip! I assume. That, or maybe orphanage schools? Dunno