Qui-Gon regarded the overgrown flower garden with sad resignation. He'd
neglected this little patch of ground for so long that the weeds had spread
wildly, choking out most of the other plants that had been so carefully
cultivated. Here and there a lone plant survived, holding on tenaciously
despite the overgrowth. He was vaguely surprised that one of the other
masters or knights in residence hadn't requested to care for the greenhouse
in his absence. He had not expected to find his little sanctuary in such
unkempt condition.
Xanatos had ridiculed him for tending the garden. The young apprentice had thought it to be a waste of time; an activity not worthy of a Jedi master. Of *his* master. Of course, that had been one of Xan's problems. He'd thought *everything* was beneath him. Qui-Gon had not recognized it at the time. He'd just let the comments slide by, as he did with most of Xan's remarks. He'd thought that as the boy grew maturity would eventually overcome such youthful arrogance. He had been wrong.
With a sigh, banishing any thoughts of "might-have-been's", Qui-Gon began half-heartedly digging up a few weeds. It was difficult to become enthusiastic about this hobby again. The memory of Xanatos standing behind him, making casual comments took the joy away. It hurt to see the garden in this condition, though. It had once been well-loved and well-cared for.
Some time had gone by when a sound from behind made Qui-Gon stiffen. Thoughts of the past had made him edgy, and when he turned to identify the intruder, he was fully on guard.
So much so that his expression made the trespasser take a full step back, hiding his or her identity in the shadows beyond the greenhouse doorway.
Qui-Gon's eyes focused on the darkness, and he could now feel the Force signature of the individual. "Obi-Wan?" he called gently, his expression softening.
The boy stepped from the darkness, squinting as the brightness of the greenhouse highlighted his youthful face. "Master?" Obi-Wan's voice sounded confused, and Qui-Gon realized he had badly startled his padawan. "Come in, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon urged.
The padawan took another tentative step inside. "I...I'm sorry I startled you, Master," he apologized, not meeting Qui-Gon's gaze.
"It's all right, Obi-Wan. I didn't realize it was you, at first." Qui-Gon's expression grew thoughtful. "What are you doing here? I thought when I gave you the afternoon off, you'd be spending it with your friends."
Obi-Wan shrugged and traced a line in the dirt with his foot, not answering.
Qui-Gon frowned. Had he really frightened the boy so badly that now Obi-Wan was afraid to speak to him? His and Obi-Wan's relationship was so new that it was often difficult to interpret his padawan's actions or expressions. Their partnership had been better before Melida-Daan, but only marginally. They'd been rebuilding the trust between them ever since, and although the hard feelings had been resolved, they still appeared to walk a fine line that neither seemed eager to cross.
Qui-Gon knew something had to be done about the situation, but he also knew that he could not rush things. Still, seeing the boy lurking in the doorway like that brought back memories better left banished.
"Please, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon asked softly. "Come here, Padawan."
Obi-Wan seemed to brighten a bit upon hearing his title and slowly ventured closer.
"What are you doing, Master?" he asked shyly.
Qui-Gon smiled sadly and gestured at the jungle of weeds. "This used to be a hobby of mine. I have not tended to it in a long time, and I'm afraid things have gotten out of hand."
Obi-Wan regarded the somewhat pathetic little garden with a guarded expression. "Why?"
Qui-Gon started at that. So, Obi-Wan would question him on this, also. He sighed, feeling the old doubts and old wounds surface again. He remembered explaining himself to another padawan, in another time, but in the same place. "I like gardening, Padawan," he began almost by rote, but with a touch of anger. "It helps me to relax, to..."
"No, Master," Obi-Wan interrupted. "I understand those things. I mean, it feels right." He glanced at Qui-Gon, and seeing questions in his eyes, added, "This place, I mean. It... I can feel the Living Force around us. It's like you belong here. What I meant was, why did you stop coming here?"
Qui-Gon stared at his apprentice for a long moment. Obi-Wan shifted his weight from one foot to the other, seeming unnerved by his master's silent regard. Actually, the boy looked almost ready to run, Qui-Gon realized with a pang of guilt. He spoke quickly then, suddenly worried that Obi-Wan would bolt from the room if he did not speak soon.
"I started this garden when Xanatos was your age," he explained gently. "It gave me a quiet place to come to when I wanted to think in ways other than through meditation."
Obi-Wan nodded, as if he understood how this could be so. Qui-Gon smiled sadly at him before continuing. "Unfortunately, this place reminds me a lot of those times. After Xanatos turned, I found it impossible to return here. It made me think of things that I'd rather have forgotten."
Obi-Wan was quiet for a long moment. Kneeling next to his master, he leaned forward to trace a finger thoughtfully over one of the broad plant leaves. "How can you tell which are the weeds and which are the plants, Master?" he finally asked, changing the subject rather abruptly. "I mean, most of these have flowers," he continued. "How can you tell which ones you want to keep?"
Qui-Gon studied the garden. Obi-Wan's words were true. The weeds had flowers, also. Some were even brighter than the annuals he had purposely put here for color so long ago. "See this one, Obi-Wan?" he asked finally, pointing. "This plant has large flowers, and is very bright. You might be fooled into thinking this was planted here for a reason. But truthfully, it is a weed. It may be beautiful, but the roots underneath are spreading unseen, choking the life from the other plants. It is not living in harmony with them. If it has its way, it will crowd out all the others until only it remains."
Obi-Wan nodded, understanding. "These little flowers here," he commented as he pointed to one of the few barely surviving annuals. "They seem very delicate. Not as bright as the ones you just showed me. But you planted this one, didn't you, Master? This is not a weed. You would have to take special care of it for it to grow more, though. It won't crowd out the others for its own purposes, will it? It would just wither and die, instead."
Qui-Gon nodded slowly. He was no longer certain what they were talking about. The conversation had taken deeper meaning, for Qui-Gon at least. He was not certain if Obi-Wan thought they were merely discussing gardening or not. The boy's eyes were bright and his expression thoughtful as he studied the greenhouse.
"Would it be all right if I helped you, Master?" Obi-Wan asked shyly, blushing a little. "If you explained to me what to do, I think I could help."
Qui-Gon studied the boy. He was struck by the differences between his former and current apprentices. How could he ever have thought to look for Xanatos' cloying darkness in the bright spirit kneeling next to him?
Obi-Wan was watching him nervously, and as the Force flowed between them, he could feel the boy's fear of rejection. Qui-Gon shook himself out of his daze and placed a gentle hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder.
"I'd like that very much, my Padawan," he said, smiling warmly.
--End--
Summary: Obi-Wan faces an old rival.
-------------------------------------
Obi-Wan bowed politely and managed to keep his outward composure, but inwardly he groaned as he was announced the winner of the junior padawans' freestyle kata competition. He caught Qui-Gon's gaze from where he watched from the sidelines, and could feel his master's approval through their bond. Obi-Wan was grateful not to have disappointed his master, but the victory meant that for the next level of competition he would automatically be paired against the winner of the compulsory division. Obi-Wan already knew from watching the earlier performances that the winner of that division would be...
"Padawan Bruck Chun," Master Yoda announced.
Applause rippled through the audience and continued sporadically as the winners of the other age-groups were announced. When the announcements were finally over, Obi-Wan returned to his master and bowed slightly, offering Qui-Gon the small token he had been given for his achievement.
Qui-Gon accepted it with a smile. "Well done, Padawan," he said as he reached out to squeeze Obi-Wan's shoulder gently.
Obi-Wan smiled back, but his forlorn expression gave him away.
Qui-Gon chuckled a little and shook his head. "Don't worry so much. You will do what you will do, and life will go on no matter the outcome."
Obi-Wan sighed. "That's easy for you to say, Master. He doesn't *hate* you."
Qui-Gon frowned. "Padawan," he growled in warning, "you know better than to say such things. Padawan Chun has come a long way since your initiate days."
Obi-Wan sighed again. "I know, Master. And I'm sorry. But I don't believe he'll be as forgiving as you think."
Qui-Gon gazed across the arena to where Bruck stood with his master. He was well-aware of the previous animosity that had existed between Obi-Wan and the white-haired padawan, and he certainly understood why Obi-Wan might be intimidated. The boy was a good hand or more taller than Obi-Wan, and much broader. Looking at Bruck, Qui-Gon had to remind himself of what he frequently told his smaller apprentice. That size did not matter if the Force was your ally. He squeezed Obi-Wan's shoulder again. "Find your focus and let the Force flow through you, Padawan," he advised. "If you keep your center, you will be able to forget who you are fighting and concentrate on the moment."
Obi-Wan nodded, already beginning to focus. He resigned himself and pushed down the surge of irrational apprehension as Master Windu called for the junior padawan division winners to come to the center of the arena to begin the sparring session.
One last reassuring squeeze on his shoulder, and he was released. He could feel Qui-Gon's regard as he strode to the center of the arena.
Bruck's gaze was intense as Obi-Wan approached to toe the line. Obi-Wan forced himself to remain focused as he found he had to tilt his chin slightly to meet the larger boy's gaze.
"Oafy-Wan," Bruck mouthed the words silently with a glint in his eyes as Master Windu began reciting the rules of the timed match.
Obi-Wan forced himself not to react. He was no longer that clumsy boy. And he had fought much more daunting opponents than Bruck, he reminded himself sternly. But somehow, Obi-Wan felt like he'd rather face a rabid rancor than be paired against his nemesis like this.
Master Windu was finishing his speech. Obi-Wan had missed a bit of it, but he already knew what was expected. No Force-pushes, no 'saber power higher than sparring level, and any un-Jedi-like conduct would mean instant disqualification and disciplinary action...
Suddenly, there was no more time for contemplation as Master Windu stepped away and the match bell sounded. Bruck wasted no time and was immediately on the offensive, beginning with a strong underhanded thrust that almost knocked his surprised opponent's 'saber away. Obi-Wan held fast, though, and backpedaled quickly. He should have known Bruck would throw himself into the fight with gusto.
Obi-Wan parried, undaunted despite the shockwaves running up his arms as the stronger boy's 'saber contacted his own. He reached for his center as his master had advised him, feeling the Force flow through him and around him. He could feel Bruck's presence, bright and strong, and as Obi-Wan communed with the Force it was almost as if he could anticipate his adversary's moves. Bruck had seemed to find his own focus as well, however, so the advantage was minimal.
Obi-Wan took flight in a graceful somersault over Bruck's head, the Force surging within him as he avoided a particularly well-executed lunge. His arial maneuver took Bruck by surprise, and Obi-Wan managed to score a hit across his opponent's shoulders as he landed. Bruck absorbed the blow easily, however, and immediately parried with his own strike, feinting to Obi-Wan's left and then scoring a hit as Obi-Wan fell for the deception.
Obi-Wan gasped, losing his focus for a moment as the 'saber burned across his ribs. He stumbled but managed to backflip, his momentum carrying him away from Bruck for the few moments he needed to recover. He narrowed his gaze at the advancing padawan. Bruck was good. And the most amazing thing about it was that he wasn't fighting in anger. There was no emotion coming off the other boy the way it used to. Bruck was centered and controlled, with no showing of temper or hatred beyond the nick-name he had goaded Obi-Wan with before the match.
Then the respite was over as Bruck advanced upon him again. For several long moments, Obi-Wan's awareness was filled with the sizzle and hum of lightsabers clashing and the Force-whispers of his opponent's moves. Their blades crossed, hissing madly as both boys leaned into the center. Obi-Wan met the other padawan's gaze across the intertwined blades for a moment before Bruck lunged into the attack, forcing Obi-Wan backwards with his greater weight and strength. Obi-Wan tried desperately to keep his feet underneath him, but to no avail. He fell, and Bruck brought his lightsaber down in a lightning-quick strike that Obi-Wan barely managed to roll away from. He was about to spring back to his feet when the match buzzer sounded.
Match over. Time was up.
Obi-Wan was surprised when Bruck simply stopped in his tracks and extinguished his 'saber, reaching down to help him to his feet. Obi-Wan stared at the offered hand for a few heartbeats before meeting Bruck's gaze and accepting the gesture. Bruck pulled him up, but kept his grip tight a moment so Obi-Wan could not pull away.
"Well-fought, Oafy-Wan," he said with a warm smile before releasing the captured hand.
Obi-Wan stared at the other boy. The simple gesture of sportsmanship, combined with the disarming smile and the almost affectionately-spoken nickname completely warped Obi-Wan's sense of reality so much that he nearly fell when Bruck released him.
The larger boy's hand automatically shot out to steady him. "You okay?" Bruck asked.
Obi-Wan continued to stare. Was that *concern* in Bruck's eyes? "Uh...yeah. I'm fine," he replied shakily, pulling away.
Bruck smiled again and Obi-Wan was suddenly aware that he'd never seen Bruck truly smile. Always before it had been laced with the mocking attitude, grinning to his friends as he made some nasty comment or another. This was different. Bruck was actually... pleasant.
"I thought you had me there a minute with that overhead somersault," Bruck was saying, as if he didn't notice Obi-Wan's unease, "but you need to work on your balance when you land. You were completely off your center. That flip's a great move, but if you don't improve the landing, you're leaving yourself wide open."
Obi-Wan nodded, listening only partly to the actual words that were being spoken. Instead, he was focused on *how* they were being spoken. With true benevolent intent, one padawan helping another. As it was supposed to be.
"Thanks, Bruck," he managed to say. He actually found himself able to return the other boy's smile before they separated and returned to their masters.
Qui-Gon was waiting for him, a satisfied smile on his face. "You fought well, Padawan," he said.
"Thank you, Master," Obi-Wan replied. "But I think Bruck deserves to win."
Qui-Gon could not hide his satisfaction with his apprentice's statement. "It is wise of you to realize that, my Padawan. Bruck has finally overcome his fear and anger, just as you overcame yours so long ago."
Obi-Wan nodded and nestled closer to his master, waiting for Master Yoda to announce the judges' decision.
He was vaguely surprised to find that he was not the least bit disappointed when Bruck was announced the winner by a slight margin. In Obi-Wan's mind, Bruck had won a far greater battle than the one fought here today.
--End--
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