Title: Postcard 1
Series: Postcards
Author: Padawan Li'Ann (padawan_liann@hotmail.com)
Rating: G. Non-slash, JA style.
Summary: Some downtime set in the JA universe.
Archive: M&A certainly, Early Years, Padawan Journals if wanted. I'd be flattered if anyone else wants it, but please ask first, ok?
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. Who does? Why George Lucas, of course! Also
kudos to Dave Wolverton and Jude Watson for the JA universe, which I adore.
Acknowledgements: Special thanks to Pumpkin for the terrific beta, the great
title, and the encouragement to try to make this into a series!
-------------------------------
"But, Master!" Obi-Wan leaned over and whispered, not all that quietly,
"It's just slight of hand. He's not even using the Force!"
Qui-Gon winced as a few members of the audience seated closest to them glanced over disapprovingly and bounced their wide-eyed children on their knees to distract them from the skeptical young man's outburst.
"Padawan," he admonished in a quiet growl, "Just sit and watch, and *try* to enjoy yourself."
Qui-Gon didn't need to look at his apprentice to know the expression that would be on Obi-Wan's face. The boy was scowling, his Jedi abilities easily allowing him to track the so-called magician's movements. Using the perceptions of the Force made it easy for the Jedi padawan to discern that there was no true "magic" involved. Qui-Gon knew that, at 14, Obi-Wan would never admit to believing in magic. Nevertheless, the boy had seemed a bit excited when he and his master had been invited to attend the show.
Now Obi-Wan seemed profoundly disappointed, as though his expectations had not been met. What these expectations had been, Qui-Gon was unsure of.
The boy remained quiet throughout the rest of the show, until finally Qui-Gon felt a jolt of surprise resonate along their bond. The master turned to his apprentice questioningly.
"How'd he do *that*?" Obi-Wan whispered, his tone incredulous.
"What?" Qui-Gon asked deliberately, although he already knew to what the boy was referring.
"THAT," Obi-Wan emphasized, gesturing toward the stage where the magician was igniting small bits of fabric and throwing them skyward.
Mid-air, as the fabric flared and instantly disintegrated, a small white bird would appear in its stead, taking graceful flight.
Qui-Gon smiled at the awed look on the boy's face. In that moment, he appeared just as young and innocent as the children who had sat enraptured throughout the entire performance.
"That, my padawan," Qui-Gon whispered back, "is why they call it magic."
--End 1--
Qui-Gon Jinn leaned against the white railing overlooking the swimming pool
at the influential Dryssan family's estate. He and his apprentice had been
invited as representatives for the Republic to attend the wedding of Elis
and Veda Dryssan's eldest son. A decent cover story, at any rate. Truth be
told, Qui-Gon was a long time friend of Veda and her husband, and the
motivation behind his invitation had been purely social. The ceremony had
been yesterday, but the transport scheduled to return the Jedi to Coruscant
had been delayed. They would be spending at least an additional day on the
planet Thyferra.
Not that either of them were complaining. The planet was beautiful despite its rather oppressive humidity, and the estate was serene. It was rare for the Jedi to have such quiet time for relaxation.
Obi-Wan's idea of relaxation, or "down-time" as he tended to refer to it, always seemed to involve activity. It was difficult for Qui-Gon's energetic and restless young padawan to sit still for long, despite his Jedi training. As soon as Obi-Wan had heard they would be staying longer, he'd wanted to spend the morning swimming. He'd accompanied the younger Dryssan sons into the pool after finishing his breakfast and the morning meditation his Master had insisted upon.
Qui-Gon leaned farther over the railing as he saw his padawan begin to ascend one of the pool's taller diving towers.
The boy stopped at the tower's apex to compose himself. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, seeming to be reveling in his connection to the Living Force around him. He was the perfect picture of tranquility to the untrained eye, but Qui-Gon knew his padawan and his accompanying Force signature well enough to detect the small amount of apprehension that tensed the smooth muscles of the boy's back. The tower was quite high, and Qui-Gon could not recall ever seeing Obi-Wan dive from such a height.
He was about to call out to the boy, to remind him to remain focused, or perhaps to convince him that he needn't complete the dive if he was uncertain of his ability. But suddenly it was too late. Qui-Gon watched as the young, lithe body dove from the tower, perfect in its descent. Obi-Wan sliced into the deep water with barely a splash to announce his entry.
The sunlight glistened off the faint ripples of the pool for long moments measured in heart beats. Qui-Gon was just beginning to become worried when the boy finally broke surface. In a quiet rush, the Jedi Master let out the breath he had been holding.
Obi-Wan shook his head like a wet Selonian, and water droplets went flying in multifaceted prisms of light. He grinned as he caught sight of his master and waved a quick salutation. He began to swim toward the pool exit when one of the young Dryssan boys stopped him, dunking him under. The younger boy splashed water at him as Obi-Wan reemerged, then took off in the other direction.
Obi-Wan looked up at his master, seeking permission before remaining in the water for something so self-gratifying as simple play. Diving could remotely be considered training, and swimming was surely exercise. But if he followed the other boy, it was purely play-time; a luxury the Jedi did not usually indulge in when away from the confines of the Temple.
Qui-Gon smiled briefly at the questioning but hopeful expression his padawan wore and then nodded his approval. The boys' face broke into a breath-taking smile and he nodded back in thanks before rejoining his friends. Qui-Gon continued to watch for a few more moments, enjoying the sight of his apprentice's joy, as well as the way the feeling resonated through the bond they shared.
His padawan was a promising young Jedi, but Qui-Gon often despaired at Obi-Wan's sometimes emotional isolation and detachment from others besides his master. That in mind, it was wonderful to see him like this; giving freely of himself and remaining open to the Living Force.
Qui-Gon found himself relaxing in the warm sunlight, the sounds of the pool's cascading waterfall and of the young people playing soothing his mind and spirit.
//Live in the moment// he'd often reminded his padawan. Today was an example of how that focus could be such a glorious connection to the Living Force; a pathway to living life to its fullest. It was obvious that today, at least, Obi-Wan was embracing his master's point of view. For that Qui-Gon was grateful. It was best to focus on the moment, as one could never know what the future might bring.
--End 2--
Obi-Wan snatched his plate away with a growl as Bant tried to sneak yet
another piece of food from it.
"Stingy!" Bant accused with as much of a pout as a Calamarian could manage.
"Get your own," Obi-Wan complained. "For Sith's sake, Bant, the food's right over there." He gestured to a large circular table where fruits, cheeses, and desserts of all kinds were located. The food was plentiful but practical, since this was, after all, a holiday held within the Jedi Temple itself.
"There's even enough food for Reeft at Solstice-time," Obi-Wan scowled, waving his hand at the Dresselian seated across from him. "So why is it that *you*, Bant Eerin, always have to take stuff from my plate?"
Bant huffed cutely. "Oh, Obi, you're taking the fun right out of it. What's with you, anyway? I think you've been hanging around Master Jinn too long."
Obi-Wan eyed her over the plate he was guarding and looked plaintively at his tablemates, Reeft and Garen Muln, who purposely avoided his gaze. "What's *that* supposed to mean?"
"Oh, nothing," Bant said sweetly, her attention suddenly diverted to brushing a few crumbs off her tunic. "But it seems like ever since you became his padawan you've been acting more and more like him."
"And what's wrong with that?" Obi-Wan demanded, beginning to become annoyed with his friend.
Bant sighed. "Can we drop this for now, Obi-Wan? I'm sorry I said anything."
She got up from her seat at the initiates' table where Obi-Wan had joined her and the others. She paused and looked down at him. "I'm going to get my own plate. Maybe you should go sit at the padawans' table, *Padawan* Kenobi."
Obi-Wan stared after her as she made her way through the crowded room. He was confused and somewhat irritated by her behavior.
Garen Muln pushed his food around his plate absently while Reeft eyed both boys' food with a hopeful expression.
"I don't mean to sound greedy, but are you going to finish that?" Reeft finally asked.
No longer hungry, Obi-Wan pushed his plate over to the Dresselian.
"What's with her?" he asked as Reeft dug into the food gratefully.
"Who?" Reeft asked between mouthfuls.
"Bant, of course," Obi-Wan grated, biting down on his annoyance.
Garen sighed. "Don't mind her, Obi-Wan," he said as he gave Reeft the rest of his plate, also. "I think she just misses you, that's all."
"Misses me?" Obi-Wan looked bewildered.
Garen shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Well, you know... since you became a padawan you've been away quite a bit and we never see you anymore. And besides that, Master Jinn doesn't seem to let you visit with us much when you actually *are* at the Temple. I'm surprised to even see you here celebrating Solstice. And well... I think Bant resents all of that a little."
Obi-Wan stared at him open-mouthed for a few moments. Finally he regained his composure. "But that's what happens when you become a padawan. I mean...I..."
Garen interrupted him. "Other masters and padawans are at the Temple a lot more often. Everyone knows that Master Jinn prefers field duty, but that means you're away a lot." He shook his head a little sadly. "Don't get me wrong, Obi-Wan. We're all happy you were chosen and that things have worked out between you and your Master. But, well... we all miss you. Bant, especially so."
Obi-Wan looked past the crowd to where the Calamarian was conversing with an older Padawan.
"You should go talk to her, Obi-Wan," Reeft prompted as he finished the last of Garen's cake. "And while you're at it, could you pick me up some more dessert?"
Obi-Wan got up from his chair a little uncertainly. What could he possibly say to Bant that would make her feel better? As he began to step forward, searching his imagination for ideas, a large hand suddenly squeezed his shoulder from behind.
Obi-Wan would know that presence anywhere, turning around was purely out of respect, not for identification.
"Master," he acknowledged as he faced the larger Jedi.
"There you are, Padawan," Qui-Gon said warmly. He glanced at Garen and Reeft apologetically. "I'm sorry to take you away from your friends, Obi-Wan, but we've been called away. There's a crisis on Garos IV."
Obi-Wan nodded, his heart sinking at Qui-Gon's words. "Alright, Master. I... just need to say goodbye to someone."
Qui-Gon shook his head sternly, but sadly. "*Now*, Padawan. Our bags are already on the transport. I spared you as much time as I could."
Obi-Wan cast a sorrowful glance in Bant's direction. She had her back to him and would have no idea he was leaving. With one last look at his friend, he turned back to Garen and Reeft.
"Please tell her I said goodbye," he requested of them quietly, and then followed his master out of the room.
--End 3--
Notes: Yes, you read it right. This one is postcard 5. I haven't posted
number 4 yet, because it's still a little rough around the edges. For the
sake of my saved files and for the sake of keeping them straight in my head,
I decided not to re-number them. Sorry for any confusion or archiving woes.
:(
--------------------------------
Obi-Wan Kenobi hated farming.
Well, the padawan rationalized, perhaps the word "hate" was a little harsh. After all, Jedi didn't hold on to such negative emotions. Or so Obi-Wan told himself over and over as he lay sprawled face-down in the mud.
Groaning, the boy rolled over onto his back and stared up at the clear, blue sky. Despite the bright sunlight, the twin moons of Cerus V were still faintly visible. From his peripheral vision, Obi-Wan could see the flock of loreng he had been trying to feed. When they'd spotted the bucket of grain he'd been carrying, they'd rushed at him and he'd tripped. The knee-high birds were now happily devouring the spilled grain, apparently harboring no guilt over their benefactor's predicament.
A low chuckle from his approaching Master brought Obi-Wan up into a sitting position. The boy let out a disgusted sigh and brushed his muddy hands against his equally muddy tunic, managing to clean neither.
"Lying down on the job, Padawan?" Qui-Gon asked, not bothering to conceal his amusement.
"Very funny, Master," Obi-Wan replied with a scowl.
Still smiling, Qui-Gon extended a hand to his filthy apprentice.
Obi-Wan accepted the assistance and rose to his feet with as much grace as the situation allowed.
Qui-Gon shook his head as he got a better look at the extent of his padawan's grime. "Looks like the poultry got the better of you," he commented smugly. "You need to be more open to the Living Force, my padawan."
Obi-Wan's mood was bordering upon foul, and, for a moment, his temper slipped loose. "Living Force?" he exclaimed loudly. "I've been inundated with the Living Force since we arrived here, Master! I'm sick of tending to these ungrateful, pathetic lifeforms. What's happened to us? Did the council decide to send me to Agri-Corps afterall, and this is my initiation? I liked it better when we were running from those soldiers in the city! I think the only reason that old farmer let us hide here until the transport arrives was because he couldn't find anyone else to take care of these stupid creatures."
Obi-Wan continued on and Qui-Gon patiently crossed his arms to watch the tirade play itself out. This had been long in coming, and the Jedi Master had no intention of interrupting. The anger had been building inside his restless apprentice during the last several days and had been easy to feel through their bond. Qui-Gon was glad to see it finally surface, so that the padawan could release it into the Force at long last.
Obi-Wan's outburst was finally ending. His voice decreased in volume gradually until it finally tapered to a halt. He glared at his silent Master petulantly.
"Are you even listening to me?"
Qui-Gon's expression was stoical. "Are you finished?"
Obi-Wan pouted. "Yes."
"And how do you feel now?"
With a long sigh, the boy looked away, his face flushing a little. "Stupid."
Qui-Gon nodded. "Good. We'll meditate upon the merits of releasing anger into the Force later. Right now we'll make use of all that restless energy of yours. You can come help me finish cleaning the barn, my padawan. And if you're still not tired enough after that, there's a tybis harness that is in need of a good scrubbing."
Obi-Wan groaned inwardly, then looked up at the elder Jedi suspiciously. "Why do I get the feeling you're enjoying all this, Master?"
Qui-Gon's face was impassive. "The Living Force is our ally, padawan. You must learn to commune with that which surrounds you."
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan sighed heavily and trudged toward the waking nightmare which was the barn.
If he had turned around, he would have caught the smug grin that had quickly spread across his taciturn Master's face.
---End 5---
"Alone in the dark a padawan should not be.
Obi-Wan jumped, startled, even as he recognized the speaker. "M-Master Yoda," he stammered, quickly rising to bow in deference to the ancient Jedi.
Yoda chuckled. "Sit, young one," he instructed, waving his hand in the general direction of the bench the padawan had been seated upon. "Sneak up on you I did. So formal you need not be."
Obi-Wan smiled a little, despite his melancholy mood. "I guess not," he replied as he sat back down. He'd always liked Master Yoda, and even now he could feel warm affection for the ancient Jedi seep through.
Master Yoda tapped him with his gimer stick. "More room I need," he instructed as he struggled up onto the bench.
Obi-Wan obliged and then resumed staring out into the relative darkness of the meditation garden as if he were still alone.
They sat in the evening silence for several long moments.
"Better you are?" Yoda finally asked gently.
Obi-Wan sighed and straightened a little. "The healers said I'll be fine. No strenuous exercises for a while, but the injuries are healing well. Master Qui-Gon is working with the healers to come up with a training schedule for me. They don't seem to think I'll fall too far behind."
Master Yoda shook his head. "Asked that, I did not."
Obi-Wan didn't reply. He felt awkward discussing this with Master Yoda. He'd already given his report to the Council as soon as he'd been able. What more could the Jedi master wish to know?
Master Yoda leaned forward and traced patterns in the dirt with his gimer stick. "Miss your braid, you do?"
Obi-Wan started. How had he known that? It was such a silly thing; a thought so unbefitting a 15 year-old padawan that Obi-Wan had kept it tightly shielded, even from Qui-Gon.
"I..." Obi-Wan stammered a little. He couldn't lie. "Yes, Master Yoda," he replied quietly. "I know it's stupid, " he sighed, "I know I should be happy that I'm healing well and that I can return to training so soon." He paused for a long moment and then continued haltingly. "It's just that... when they cut my braid... it... I felt like they cut my ties to my master, I guess. Like they'd taken something I never thought I could lose."
Obi-Wan closed his eyes for a moment, remembering. He'd despaired when the dampening collar the slavers had fitted him with cut him off from the Force, but when his braid had been cut... He squeezed his eyes shut tighter as if to banish the memory.
"Always with you, your master is," Yoda replied confidently. "As padawan grows in the ways of the Force, so grows again his braid."
Obi-Wan sighed a little. "Yes, Master Yoda."
It was just that it had taken him so long to actually become a padawan. He had been through so much with Qui-Gon before he'd even been allowed to wear the braid. It hurt to lose that symbol of their hard-won bond. He knew his hair would grow again. But it would not be part of him that had been there through his struggle to become padawan to the great Qui-Gon Jinn. He didn't expect anyone to understand. Not even Qui-Gon. It was why he had kept the feeling shielded tightly inside himself.
But leave it to Master Yoda to see right through him.
Master Yoda tapped Obi-Wan's leg with the gimer stick again. "Qui-Gon's padawan you are," he stated evenly. "Changed that has not."
Obi-Wan nodded. "I know."
"Lucky we were to get you back. Risked everything, he did."
Obi-Wan closed his eyes in acceptance. "I know that also, Master Yoda," he replied. His inner mind was plagued by memories. He had given in to his fear during his captivity, even if it had only been briefly. There was a small part of him left from his Agri-Corp days that still doubted his self-worth. That part of himself had been afraid Qui-Gon would not come for him.
Master Yoda made a small sound that Obi-Wan knew from long experience meant the ancient Jedi had seen through him yet again. "Qui-Gon did not want another padawan, that much is true," Yoda confirmed. "But when the Force brought you into his life, even one as stubborn as he could not refuse. Good for him, you have been, and he for you. Grow in the Force together, you have."
This time Master Yoda reached the gimer stick up higher so he could poke Obi-Wan in the ribs with it. "Grow more you will," he observed as the boy flinched away, "but not if hiding from the light. Good for growth, darkness is not."
Obi-Wan managed a smile. Somehow talking to the little master was always helpful, even when he didn't consciously want any help. "Yes, Master Yoda," he replied, letting the smile widen a little.
Master Yoda's expression was warm and kind, and his eyes slid half-closed as if he were listening to something. "Always knows when I'm talking about him, your master does," he muttered as he scooted down off the bench.
Just then, Obi-Wan felt Qui-Gon's presence before he saw him coming down the darkened garden path.
"There you are, Padawan," Qui-Gon greeted as he approached, looking somewhat relieved. He turned and bowed slightly to Yoda. "Good evening, Master Yoda," he greeted politely.
The elder Jedi nodded in acknowledgement and then squinted up at him. "Cut your hair you should," he observed with a sad shake of his head. "Look like a shaggy bantha you do." With that, he abruptly began to make his way down the path leading back into the Temple.
Qui-Gon stared after him for a moment, then turned back to his padawan who was trying desperately to hide his amused smile. Any annoyance Qui-Gon had felt immediately faded away as he caught sight of that expression. It was the first he'd seen his padawan smile since he'd rescued Obi-Wan from that Sith-spawned slaver's ring several days ago.
"What have you two been talking about?" Qui-Gon wondered as he offered a hand to assist Obi-Wan up off the bench.
Obi-Wan accepted the help but still wobbled a little when he got to his feet. The Jedi Knight put a supportive hand on his somewhat shaky padawan's shoulder and began to slowly lead him back toward their quarters. They walked in silence for a few moments, but Qui-Gon was still curious.
"Well?" he asked.
Obi-Wan smiled again. For the first time since he'd returned to Coruscant, he was actually beginning to feel better.
"Just hair, Master," he replied as he leaned against his mentor's strong frame and basked in that reassuring presence. "We were just talking about hair."
--End 6--
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