Chapter Eleven: Eeth

Eeth looked around the crowded dining hall, searching for his padawan. Lok was not here yet. Eeth was just about to make his way to the lunch queue when someone thumped him on the back from behind. He turned and stared in bewilderment at a small figure that nearly disappeared in a mass of long, entangled curls and a beard that was even longer, if that was at all possible. Only the fact that that person, who was beaming up at him, only reached up to his chest clued him in on who he might be.

"Lakhri," he said faintly. "You look… changed."

"It's the latest fashion on Bar Natefl," said his former padawan cheerfully. "More importantly, no opportunity for a shave or a haircut for ages, and that means ages. Great to see you."

"When did you come back?" asked Eeth. "And where is Flynt?"

Lakhri chortled. "Having a shave and a haircut, as it might please you to hear. We just came back this morning. I was hungry, so I decided to postpone my own haircut and have lunch first."
"How surprising," Eeth replied drily. In his experience, Lakhri was nearly always hungry.

Lakhri just laughed.

"Wanna sit with me?" he asked.

"Yes," replied Eeth. "But I am expecting someone. My new padawan, in actual fact. He is…" He glanced at his chrono and frowned. "… two minutes late already," he completed the sentence.

"Poor him," said Lakhri automatically, then frowned as well. "Wait a moment," he said slowly. "You've got a new padawan? What? Who? Since when? How?"
Eeth raised his eyebrows.

"Why don't you sit back down before your lunch gets cold," he said calmly, "and let me get mine. I am sure my padawan will show up at some point and join us, before or after I have answered your many questions."

Lakhri rolled his eyes.

"Always so reasonable and organised," he said wryly. "Alright. Get your lunch. I'll exercise some patience, then."

Eeth sat with Lakhri five minutes later, depositing a tray with a plate of spicy stir-fried grains and a piece of fruit opposite his former padawan. There was still no sign of Lok.

"He is usually punctual," he told Lakhri, checking his chrono again.

"Well, that's one thing he's better at than Raven and me, then," replied Lakhri. "Good for him. Now will you please satisfy my curiosity?"

Eeth took a bite of stir-fry, chewed and swallowed it. He drank some water, with Lakhri watching impatiently, and finally acquiesced.

"Alright. His name is Lok," he said. "He is a Zabrak, he is thirteen years old and he has been my padawan for about four weeks. His former master, Jerad Delapar, had died of a virus and the Council had asked me to look after Lok. I did, and it turned out that we are a good match. Does that about answer your questions?"

Lakhri blinked.

"Overload," he said faintly. "So his former master died? Is he…"

His eyes widening slightly, he paused for a moment.

"Is he, by any chance, the young man with the split lip who's coming up behind you?" he finished the sentence.

Eeth turned and raised his eyebrows at the state of his padawan.

"Lok," he said evenly, and it did not sound altogether pleased. "You look as if you have been in a fight. Meet my former padawan Lakhri."

"Who has not had a shave or a haircut in at least a year," said Lakhri. "If Raven could join us now sporting blue hair and a nose-piercing, Eeth might just die of embarrassment to have raised such a scruffy bunch of padawans."

He grinned at Lok. "Hi, Lok," he said. "Nice to meet you. And don't worry. I don't usually look like this. I've just returned from a long-term mission."

Lok returned the grin, but it looked as if even the attempt was painful.

"Nice to meet you, too," he said, putting his tray onto the table and sitting down next to Eeth whom he gave a slightly wary look.

"You're right, I've been in a fight," he said. "I'm supposed to tell you all about it. Master Covenin was going to send you a message to make sure I do."

"I can hardly wait," said Eeth drily. He dunked a paper napkin into his glass of water, let it soak up the cool liquid and gently held it against Lok's bloody lip. Lok flinched back a little at the unexpected move, but then he seemed to realise that Eeth was actually using the Force to heal the cut, or at least the worst of it, and that was rather welcome.

"Thank you, master," he said, and he meant it.

"You're welcome," said Eeth. "And I think we will not have that talk in the dining hall, let alone with Lakhri present. It can wait until we are home."
"That's nice of you," said Lakhri innocently, "considering how sensitive I am."

"I'm sure Flynt would disagree," Eeth replied in a deadpan tone that had Lakhri chuckle.

"Anyway, Lok," said Lakhri, starting on his second dessert. "I'm one of the two people who have survived living with this tyrant. Tell me old age has got to him and he at least lets you sleep until six thirty."

Lok sighed. "No, unfortunately not," he replied. Being a morning person, he did not mind all that much, especially since his own master had not usually woken him up much later than that, but the comment still had him grin.

"Ah well," said Lakhri, giving the impression of being slightly disappointed. "At least he lets you eat your lunch in peace and gives you some privacy for those moments in which he's tearing you into pieces. He didn't have any qualms about spanking me in front of hundreds of people."
Eeth raised his eyebrows.

"That only ever happened once, and that was after you had yelled at me in front of hundreds of people," he said rather unhumorously. "Why is it that every time I have a new padawan, you find tremendous joy in digging up stories from my past?"

"Aww, c'mon, it only ever happened twice," Lakhri said carelessly, winking at Lok. Lok chortled into his soup. He could see that Lakhri was fun to be with.

Eeth just glared at Lakhri and continued to eat.

"No, seriously, Lok," said Lakhri to the Zabrak boy, "if you ever need a break from Eeth, just give me a call."

"Thank you," said Lok, a little surprised, "and I'll be happy to give you a call any time, but I don't need a break from him."

Lakhri stared at him. " You don't?" he asked incredulously.

"Err, no," Lok replied, a little taken aback. "Should I?"

Eeth raised his eyebrows at the stunned look on Lakhri's face.

"You might feel that I have been a horrible master to you," he said, "but you are not being very polite about it. And as you might or might not have noticed, I am seriously trying to improve."

"You have not been a horrible master," Lakhri protested. "Just a tad… overbearing, maybe. And outrageously strict. And lacking a sense of humor. But not horrible."

"He's not horrible at all," said Lok quietly. "And he does have a sense of humor, even if he's trying not to make it too obvious."
"Yes, I know that now," said Lakhri, "but when I was a padawan, it took me years to find that out. I'm impressed."
"What, with my master or me?" asked Lok.

"Both," said Lakhri. "Sorry, Eeth. I meant no offense. Err… how would the two of you feel about some Careenian food? Like, tonight? Can I invite Flynt and myself for dinner, provided you haven't eaten your padawan by that point?"

"Yes," replied Eeth, stony-faced, "provided you have had a shave and a haircut by then."

Lakhri laughed and rose from his chair. "Sure thing," he said. "If it makes you happy. It will certainly make me happy, anyway. See you then, Lok."

"I didn't expect him to be so cool!" said Lok as soon as Lakhri was gone. He opened his mouth as if to say something more, but closed it again quickly.

"What?" asked Eeth.

"Nothing," said Lok innocently.
"He does not get it from me, does he?" asked Eeth in amusement, quite certain that this was exactly what Lok had wanted to say.

Lok blushed and was intensely busy with his food for a minute.

When he finally looked up, it was with another question for Eeth.

"Were you really that bad or was Lakhri that difficult?" he asked.
"He was no more difficult than other padawans his age," Eeth replied a little stiffly. "But I was harder on him than I ought to have been, and a lot more distant than I am with you."

He paused a little, then added, more softly: "I am glad that he holds no grudge. He has become a very accomplished Jedi, and I am truly proud of him."

Ten minutes later, they made their way back to their quarters, Eeth walking in his usual long strides while an entirely unenthusiastic Lok was dragging his feet. Eeth could sense that he was feeling guilty, which was unsurprising; in his experience, padawans who got into fights usually had reason to feel guilty.

"So," sat Eeth, pointing Lok to a chair at their dining table and sitting down opposite him. "What happened to give you a split lip?"
Lok shrugged sullenly. "Fern happened," he said curtly. "A classmate."

There was a moment's silence. Then, Eeth said a tad coolly: "I do not appreciate having to drag it out of you, padawan."

Lok sighed. "Well, what shall I say?" he asked. "Classes were out, we were leaving the classroom and I overheard Fern saying that I should stop grabbing for attention. I asked him what that was supposed to mean, we got into an argument, then I, uhm, socked him one. Then he socked me one. And then Master Covenin, who was just coming out of the classroom next to ours, separated us and gave us a lecture and said she'd notify our masters. She talked so much that I ended up being late for lunch. That about sums it up, I think."
He looked at Eeth in a mixture of resignation and defiance.

Eeth raised his eyebrows.

"Were you grabbing for attention?" he asked.

"What?" Lok exclaimed indignantly. "Of course not!"
"Why would he have said you should stop to, then?" Eeth inquired. He could sense that there was more to the story than Lok was letting on, and that would not do.

"How should I know?" Lok asked, clearly irritated. "Maybe he hates my guts."

Eeth's eyes narrowed. "I'm sure that if you think long and hard, you can come up with something better than that," he said sternly.

Lok pursed his lips. "Are you suggesting I'm lying?" he snapped.

"No," said Eeth, "I am suggesting you are leaving out relevant information. That is unacceptable, as you very well know."

Lok folded his arms across his chest and silently glared at Eeth. That was the point at which Eeth decided that enough was enough. He rose, crossed over to where Lok was sitting, pulled the boy up by the ear, sat down on the chair himself, flung Lok across his lap, pulled out his paddle and brought it down onto the boy's trouser-clad bottom with as much force as he could, which was saying something. And he did all that in about ten seconds.

"OUCH!" yelled Lok. "What the– OWWW! Stoppit! YEOOWWW!"

Eeth did not reply. Instead, he focussed on giving his padawan a very good incentive to respond to his master's questions in appropriate ways. He paddled hard, fast and furiously, and Lok was soon howling, squirming and kicking.

After a good two dozen swats, Eeth paused, but did not let Lok up.

"Any new insights, padawan?" he asked, showing no signs of exertion.
Lok drew in a ragged breath. "That I was wrong when I told Lakhri you're not horrible?" he retorted, trying hard to get his voice under control.

Eeth refused to rise to that challenge.

"Oh, I can be very horrible indeed when you give me reason to," he said grimly. "Are you going to give me an appropriate answer, or would you prefer to bring me the strap, pull down your pants and leave this discussion unable to sit before we have even started talking about your actual punishment for fighting?"

There was a moment's pause. Eeth could tell that Lok was searching for a way out, but failing to find one. He tapped the paddle onto the upturned bottom over his lap sharply to speed up the thought process.

Lok flinched and hissed.

"Alrighhhhht…" he said reluctantly. "But you're not going to like it."

Eeth yanked him up from his lap.

"I would not like it any more if I had to spank it out of you first," he said firmly. "Out with it."

"Werlllll…" Lok started, even more reluctantly. "It's like, I mean… I dunno, I, umm… OUCH!"
He might have been standing, but that had not prevented Eeth from swatting his bottom with the paddle.

"Out with it," Eeth said grimly. "Now."
"I might have given my teachers cheek a few times," Lok ground out, rubbing his bottom furiously. "Or talked back. Or, like made some remarks on what they were telling us. I dunno, I was kind of restless in class and – Force, I wasn't trying to grab for attention, I was just trying to make people laugh!"

"And did they?" Eeth asked coolly, not believing for one moment that this was about a desire to be humorous.

Lok shrugged. "Sometimes," he said.

"And at other times they were thinking you were grabbing for attention?" Eeth inquired.

Lok scowled.

"Fern was, but he's a git," he said with conviction.

"That might or might not be the case," Eeth said sharply, "but I am not interested in Fern, I am interested in you. What were you trying to accomplish by being rude to your teachers?"
"I wasn't rude!" Lok protested. "I mean… not rude rude."

Eeth just raised his eyebrows and gave him a look.

"Well, maybe I was a little rude," Lok conceded in a slightly more polite voice. "And I have no idea what you want to hear from me."
"Oh?" said Eeth, entirely unimpressed. "So you consider it normal to be 'a little rude' to your teachers? No reason to give me an explanation?"
"No, of course not," said Lok, raising his hands in frustration. "What shall I say to that? You're impossible, really!"

"Maybe so," said Eeth calmly, "but I did not get into a fight, you did."

"Yes, and you may feel free to just punish me for it and get it over with," snapped Lok, "but I don't see what this interrogation has to do with it."

Eeth's mouth tightened into a firm line. He was not going to indulge this futile discussion a second longer. The paddling had obviously not been sufficient, so he needed to up the ante. Rising from his chair, he pushed Lok over the table and divested him of his trousers. The boy tried to wriggle free, but after Eeth had slapped the backs of his thighs twice, hard, he thought better of it. Eeth opened the clasp of his belt, deftly removed the appendages, pulled it out of its loops, doubled it over and brought it down onto Lok's bottom with medium force.

"OWW!" yelled Lok, reflexively clenching and unclenching his bottom.
"This," said Eeth sternly, "is not your punishment for getting into a fight. It is what you get for refusing to give satisfactory answers to my questions. I want to know how you came to act up in class in a manner that was annoying enough to irk some of your classmates, and I am going to keep at this until you have given the matter some thought and provided me with an explanation."

He raised the belt and brought it down again, slightly increasing the force behind the blow. Considering that Lok's bottom had already been quite soundly paddled, this hurt undoubtedly. But Lok was free to end this any time he liked, as far as Eeth was concerned.

"I don't know why I did it!" Lok yelped in frustration. "Ouch! Stop this!"
"No," Eeth said grimly. "You do know. Or you could if you thought about it."

He gave Lok a third stroke.

"Think," he ordered.

"OWW! I can't if you keep hitting me!" Lok all but shouted.

"Then you need to learn," Eeth said, completely unfazed, and brought the belt down onto the lower part of Lok's bottom.

Lok literally started to wail. Apparently, he realized that he needed to come up with something fast.

"I-I was fed up with everyone and everything!" he blurted out, trying to angle his hips out of harm's way. "I just w-wanted them to stop being so–" His voice was hitching and he was trying hard to suppress his sobs as he gasped for breath.

Eeth had raised the belt again, but now paused. He could sense that Lok was finally being truthful and he did not want to discourage that.

"What were they being?" he asked insistently.
"They–they were all pitying me," Lok brought out desperately, obviously very intent on keeping Eeth from hitting him again. "They were so – so damn nice, even when I didn't deserve it. They let me get away with everything. I wanted things to be normal and they treated me like I would break."
"And so you were pushing for a reaction," said Eeth, understanding dawning on him. "You were behaving in a way that would have ordinarily earned you punishment."
"It would have earned anyone punishment," Lok complained bitterly. "But not me, apparently."
"That can easily be remedied," Eeth said darkly. "Get up."

Lok gingerly straightened himself up, making a brief attempt to rub his bottom and wincing as his fingers touched the welts that Eeth's belt had raised. Granted, it had only been four strokes and they had not been as hard as they might have been, but they had been plenty bad enough.

"It was not you I was pushing for a reaction, you know," he pointed out, his voice still a little unsteady.

"Oh, I know," Eeth replied calmly while reattaching his belt. "But as you well know, breaking the rules will still reliably earn you one. Now. I will call your teachers and make sure they know not to tolerate any more nonsense from you. Cutting you slack is obviously not a good strategy, so they will have to stop doing that. I will ask them to punish you for your misbehavior in class as they see fit. I think your defiance has already sufficiently been dealt with, so that leaves the matter of fighting. And you know that is simply unacceptable."

Lok did not look too happy with all this, but he did not protest either.

"So, what's my verdict?" he asked a tad sullenly.

Eeth considered him for a moment.

"I will have to think about it," he finally said. "Go and do your homework. When you are done – and needless to say, I expect you to do a good job –, come back and see me."

Lok groaned. He opened his mouth to say something, took one look at Eeth's face and closed his mouth again. Grumbling under his breath, he retreated to his room.

Eeth went to the kitchen to make some tea, deep in thought. He did not feel entirely comfortable with the rate at which he was handing out corporal punishment. He was also aware that it was rather out of character for him to feel that way. Both Lakhri and Raven had found themselves over his knee for one thing or another fairly frequently in the early days of their padawanhood, and he had never had any qualms about that. Maybe it was because Lok had so recently lost his master, or maybe he himself had changed? Pondering this would not help him make a decision, however. Lok had quite clearly demonstrated that, despite his loss, he did not want special treatment. Nor did Eeth have the feeling that special treatment was doing the boy any good. From what Lok had told him, he knew that Jerad had firmly and consistently punished his padawan him for transgressing his boundaries; and that seemed to be exactly what the boy needed in order to function.

So, what alternatives to corporal punishment did he have? Lok was still struggling with completing his homework and catching up on what he had missed out on; and he had not completed his mandatory tutoring of creche children either. Assigning him further chores, tasks or meditation might be more than Lok could cope with right now. Grounding him would have no effect whatsoever since the boy still pretty much refused to leave their quarters unless he was forced to. Of course, Lok was usually very much on his dignity (which uncannily reminded Eeth of himself at that age). That thought, combined with the fact that starting a fight was considered a serious offense, settled things for Eeth.

Lok reappeared in the common room a considerable while later, data pads in hand, for Eeth had insisted on checking his homework ever since that fateful day on which it had turned out that Lok had systematically neglected to do most of it since the start of the cycle.

"Thank you," Eeth said, accepting the data pads and putting them aside. "You may hand me your lightsaber as well." He held out a hand.

The look on Lok's face told him that his padawan was instantly aware what he was asking for and why and that he did not like it one bit.

"You honestly want to take my saber away for… for…" he asked in a rather accusatory tone of voice, his hand hovering protectively over the hilt of his weapon.

"I honestly want to take your saber away for punching a fellow padawan into the face, yes," Eeth replied, stony-faced. "And I think you are entirely aware what a serious transgression this is, so there is really no need for debate. I will keep your saber for one week, and any further protests will add to that time."

He kept holding out his hand while he spoke.

Lok glared at him for a moment; then, he slowly and reluctantly unclipped his saber from his belt and gave it to Eeth.

Eeth accepted it wordlessly and clipped it to his own belt. Then he said: "Second, you will apologize to Fern in person."

Lok's glare intensified. "He will never stop gloating if I do that!" he snapped. "Even you must know that much!"
"Whether or not he will gloat is entirely irrelevant," Eeth said sternly. "You are going to apologize, period. I'm not going to entertain any objections about that."

Lok looked as if he would have dearly loved to object, but knew exactly that if he did, Eeth would probably bend him right back over the table, so he bit back his retort.

"And you are going to do it now," Eeth went on. "Fern is home, I checked with his master. We can continue this discussion when you are back."
Lok snorted. "I don't know if you know the meaning of the word 'discussion'," he said, "but a discussion is not what we're having. It's you telling me off and giving me orders."
Eeth's eyes narrowed.

"So you think that this is a good moment to be smart?" he asked coolly. "Very well. Your point is taken. When you are back, I will refrain from having a discussion of any kind with you and immediately proceed with the rest of your punishment. That should put your concerns to rest. Now go. Fern and his master live in apartment 5246 in the south wing."

From his phone call with Fern's master, Eeth knew that she was acutely aware of her padawan's part in the affair and had punished him accordingly, which meant that Fern would not have much reason to gloat about Lok's apology or his lack of a saber. But Lok could find that out for himself. Eeth had also told Fern's master to notify him immediately if Lok's apology left anything to be desired. If that was the case, he would simply add to the boy's punishment.

Lok was very obviously not pleased with his instructions, but after already having received a dose of the paddle and the belt for refusing to comply with his orders, he would have had to be very stupid to disobey again. He stomped off in bad grace. Eeth was half-expecting a comm call by Fern's master, but it did not come. Lok returned half an hour later, appearing much more composed and resigned to his fate than before.

"Alright, so I apologized," he said with a sigh. "What next?"

Eeth studied him for a moment, then opened his arms and said gently: "Come here."
Lok practically fell into his hug; Eeth sensed gratitude, but also a certain amount of confusion through their bond.

"I know how hard it was for you to make that apology," he told Lok softly. "I am all the more glad that you did so – and managed to get your temper under control as well. That cannot have been an easy feat. Your punishment is not quite over, but that does not change the fact that I am proud of you."

"Thank you," said Lok quietly, leaning against his shoulder and relaxing. A moment later, though, he asked: "Master? Are you like, going easy on me? I mean… for Force's sake, I started a fight! I know that's a total no-go! What would you have done if Lakhri had done this?"

Eeth supposed the question had had to come up, at some point. He gripped Lok's shoulders and held him off at arm's length, forcing him to look into his face.

"If you mean to ask whether I hugged Lakhri when he might have needed me to, the answer is no, and I sincerely regret that now," he said solemnly. "If you mean to ask whether your punishment is going to be any lighter than Lakhri's would have been when he started a fight, the answer is no as well."
Lok sighed. "Don't you think my bottom is sore enough already?" he asked rhetorically.

"Your bottom would not be sore at all if you had answered my questions exhaustively and respectfully," Eeth replied calmly. "What you received had nothing to do with your punishment for fighting and you know it. Now go and fetch me the cane. The normal one, not the thick one in the back."

The decision to use the cane had been a spur-of-the-moment one, maybe because Lok's question had reminded him of how he had used to deal with Lakhri and Raven when they had done something like this. More importantly, Lok very obviously needed to be shown that he was not being treated with pity on account of his special situation. He wanted his life to return back to normal, and that meant that punching another padawan into the face was a serious case of misconduct and was going to be punished severely.

To Eeth's relief, Lok did not raise a fuss; he merely swallowed and gave a brief nod. Eeth released him, folded his arms across his chest and watched as the boy slowly made his way to the cupboard and opened the door. Upon spotting the cane, he hesitated, but not for long; he took it and brought it back to Eeth. Eeth accepted it and pulled out one of the high-backed chairs at the dining table. They had just the right height for Lok who was rather tall.

"Bare your bottom and bend over," he instructed.

Lok pulled a face, but he obeyed. Eeth got the impression that he had used up his potential for defiance for today, which was all for the better. He waited until Lok was in position, stood behind him and brought the cane down onto his bottom in a swift, well-practiced motion.

Twelve firm strokes of the cane later, Lok was a sobbing mess, but he had not resisted his punishment. Eeth sensed acceptance in him and even a certain degree of relief; and he suddenly felt a strong surge of affection for his padawan. He allowed the boy some time to regain his composure and then gently helped him up, offering him another hug. Lok fell into the embrace gratefully.

"What a mess of a day," he mumbled into Eeth's robes, his breath hitching.

"I will do my best to make sure that your teachers provide you with more… structure than they have had so far," Eeth replied wryly. "That might reduce the chances of a repeat occurrence."

Lok gave a tearful laugh.

"I don't know why I'm like that," he said a little more calmly, "but you're right, I do need to know where the limits are and that they won't change. I get out of control when that doesn't happen. My master… Jerad… he recognized it, and you do, too."
Looking up at Eeth with rather red and puffy eyes, he said solemnly: "Thanks."
"You're welcome," said Eeth quietly. "No more fighting, please."

Lok shook his head.

"There won't be," he promised. And Eeth could tell that he meant it.