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“A ja swym cichym szpetem sprawić umiem snadnie,
Że człowiekowi łacno słodki sen przypadnie.”
Na lipę, Jan Kochanowski
“And, without effort, with whispers that come from my deep
I shall be singing all visitors sweetly to sleep”
The Linden Tree, Jan Kochanowski (tr. William Auld)
The layers of leaves, green shadows and bright spots of sky were rising above his head higher and higher. Looking and tracing the shapes, he felt that he could get lost, oh so easily, in the meandering shapes of the dark branches. The woods were a magnificent remainder of the power of the Living… half a dozen of blackflies swarmed around his head, somehow getting into his mouth and nose.
Obi-Wan did his best to defend himself from the deluge, but they just kept coming. He shot a pleading gaze forward where his Master was walking briskly on the forest path, but he found no answers there. The blackflies seemed simply uninterested in bothering Qui-Gon, as if they bowed to his calm authority. Right. What should a Jedi do in a situation like this?
He tried hard to focus on the here and now, as his Master liked to remind him. The flutter of the tiny wings on his cheeks, the warmth spreading with the sun on his shoulder, the resinous smell of the woods.
„Ah!” The sharp bite of the mosquito on his nape made him yelp. In a short time, he yelled in satisfaction when the insulting insect found its squishy death under his quick palm. This was impossible.
„Master!” he finally said, exasperation clear in his voice.
“Yes, Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon answered without missing a step on the uneven path. And damn him if Obi-Wan did not hear a trace of amusement in his otherwise warm voice.
“How do you do it? How can you be so, so, so serene here?” the young Padawan asked and prepared himself for a cryptic answer.
“Open yourself up, little one. Let your senses reach out, but not out to the stars, but here and now. Let yourself just be” His Master said cryptically enough and ploughed through the underbrush. Here and now. In so many words.
This meditative trip to Dantooine was Qui-Gon’s idea - a respite from all the unintended, catastrophic detours they got into lately. The Council recently ended his probation, that started after he came back from Melida/Daan and they were all but ready to jump back into action. Yet Qui-Gon insisted on a hike in the Dantooine’s woods, grumbling about the many disadvantages of having the Temple located at a planet-wide city.
He huffed out a breath and tried to follow his Master’s advice. He let his senses, his focus linger on the movement of the leaves, the soft shuffles of the forest, the trill of birds in the distance… and immediately felt his mind stray into the facts on flying species throughout the Galaxy—it was truly amazing in how many ways the flying creatures leveraged the air pressure to get themselves off the ground… Here and now. Here and now. Suddenly, he had to swipe a sticky web from his face. Obi-Wan contained a frustrated growl.
He still wondered if his apprenticeship with Qui-Gon was simply… not meant to be. Even disregarding the rocky start of their relationship, he lacked every single feature that his Master tried to instil in him. How could he succeed in opening up to the Living Force and master this all-encompassing patience Qui-Gon seemed to carry so lightly if what spoke to him were facts and reasons? And yet, as futile as it sometimes was, he yearned to learn. Not just from anyone too, but to grow into the same stillness that his Master possessed. Practice the compassion…
“Wh-!” The ground ran away from his feet. Before he could even screech a surprised yell, he was already falling. Dirt and loose branches rained on his head as his feet slide still further down, too fast to grasp anything.
A strong hand clasped at his forearm, stopping his descent.
“Thanks!” he huffed out in gratitude. He had just enough time to look up, see his Master’s eyes crinkle in a small smile when he felt a sharp tug at his ankle. Qui-Gon’s hand closed on nothing as Obi-Wan was dragged down.
***
“Obi-Wan!” the yell was in vain. One second, it simply looked like a landslide. He thought that maybe his Padawan fell into a sinkhole. His reflexes worked just in time to grasp the boy’s hand, and that should be it. Qui-Gon was basically ready to make a quip about focusing on his surroundings before dusting off his unfortunate apprentice when something grabbed Obi-Wan and literally yanked him out of his grip.
How could he miss the warning in the Force? He knew how well enough—the forest was all but singing to him with the shimmering light of the Living Force. A symphony of rustles and trills washing away the last weeks of misery, doubt, and exhaustion. Simply said—he let his mind wander. But there will be time for empty thoughts and what ifs later. Now he jumped down into the crevice that opened up on the forest floor. He slid fast on the mushy moss, letting the Force guide him away from stones and roots. Obi-Wan was still visible up ahead—he was moving fast, squirming to grab onto anything to stop.
The crevice opened up into a small gorge, and the ground started to even out. Qui-Gon jumped to his feet. Finally he could see—what seemed like a root snapped itself around Obi-Wan’s ankle, dragging him fast through the underbrush. He could feel the moment his apprentice calmed down, their bond no longer filled with confusion, but with determined focus.
Pride bloomed in his chest, even as he concentrated to propel his strides with the Force. The azure light of Obi-Wan’s sword flashed in the distance. Before his Padawan could make a use of it, a perfectly poised branch threw it out of his hand. When the hilt made a high arc in the air, Qui-Gon leaped to retrieve it.
He ran after his Padawan, not thinking, but feeling his way through. If he had time for that, he would bless his long legs that let him rush forward. And curse his height when he ducked the low-hanging branches. The Force allowed many things and his trust in it was absolute.
But whatever grabbed Obi-Wan was simply too fast. He lost him between the trees, left with an obvious trail of broken branches and upturned earth where his Padawan was dragged through the forest. Discontent he stopped and let his breath even out.
Here goes our meditative retreat.
He almost laughed at himself out loud—four decades of being a Jedi and to think that he would still fall for thinking that anything was ever really predictable. Right.
He started down the trail left by Obi-Wan’s mysterious kidnapper.
***
Obi-Wan came to consciousness with a pounding headache. Green and black spots danced in front of his eyes when he slowly blinked, clearing slowly into rustling leaves. Something sturdy was supporting his back and his hands touched a rough surface when he felt around himself.
“Auch” he complained as he found a growing bump on his head. Slowly, the events of the last hours trickled in—their hike through the Dantooine forest and then. Something was nudging his cheek.
“What, stop that” he complained and patted away the intruder. He blinked twice. He sat on a wide branch, his legs flinging a dozen meters above the ground, and a small willowy branch retreated from his face. Obi-Wan started to wonder exactly how hard did he hit his head.
Looking around now, he could see that he was well above the ground, between the branches of an enormous tree. How he got here was the mystery for the ages. He hissed in pain when he tried to move his left leg. Time to take the stock of his situation. Taking deep breaths, he started to focus. Toes, feet, ankle. He hissed again when the pain flared up. Moving carefully not to dislodge himself from his perch, he took a look.
His Padawan robes, more sturdy than they looked, saved him from most of the scratches and cuts, but his left leg was not so lucky. His skin was slashed with scratches and lacerations, but that was the least of his problems. The sharp pain at every movement and the slow swelling of his ankle showed clearly that it was either twisted or broken. And he lost his lightsaber!
Well, that was going to complicate matters.
He yelped when the branch nudged him in the shoulder. Quickly he turned and this time there was no mistaking it—a branch was intently poking him in the shoulder, demanding his attention. What in the Force…
Apparently, seeing that it was finally noticed, the branch withdrew slowly, only to be exchanged by another. The second branch huddled together, a large leaf rolled into a sort of funnel with water spilling from the edges. Insistently, the tree brought the water close to his face.
“… thank you?” Obi-Wan said, unsure, but drank gladly. The water was fresh, and he splattered his face with it gingerly to wash away the confusion. Happy with his reaction, the willow branch patted his head.
“Right” that would all be pretty amusing if only he knew where he was. Or where his Master was. Or his ankle would not hurt so much, making even a thought about climbing down to the ground laughable.
“You wouldn’t by any chance have some bacta around?” he asked the tree. He was talking to a tree. Wait till Quinlan would hear about that—he won’t stop laughing for a month. On another note—no, Quinlan is never going to hear how he was successfully knocked out and kidnapped by a tree.
The branches swayed in answer. With some imagination, Obi-Wan took that as a doubtful shrug. Time to try a more direct approach. He waved at his swelling ankle and made an over-exaggerated hiss of pain. Not that he had to exaggerate much. The branches withdrew and Obi-Wan lied back with a huff.
After a moment, the branches came back, dozens of them this time, and set a collection of items before him. Couple of twigs and branches. A metal coil. A sock. An empty water bag. A linen shirt that saw better days.
His leafy friend swayed again in question. Obi-Wan inspected the collection before him.
“It will do” he said and got to work.
***
Qui-Gon Jinn would never admit that he was lost. Not in a forest out of all places. He had a great sense of direction, a keen sense of adventure, and the Living Force was always his ally.
He simply did not know which way to go.
For a hundred meters or so, the trail was laughably easy to follow, but then… he could swear that it simply disappeared. He could not do a better job of covering it himself in twice as much time.
Qui-Gon sighed.
His surroundings were at odds with his feelings. The young forest full of bushes and bright green leaves gave way here to an elder grove. Here the ground was moulded by gnarly roots, covered with dark moss. Beige mushroom heads made their ways through the spindles of ferns and everything felt quiet and at peace in the shadows provided by the ancient trees around. And it was ancient, he was sure of it—the Living Force sang to him and the roots run deep, deeper than the foundation of the Republic. In any other circumstances, he would love nothing more than to sit down here and sink into this great song. Let it wash away all else, leave him to the simple joys of light and life, let it renew his conviction to his path…
Instead, he munched on the slow thrum of concern over his misplaced Padawan. It did not matter how capable his young apprentice was—Qui-Gon’s first instinct was to make sure he was alright. Especially considering that the last time they left the Temple, it was for Telos.
Where are you Padawan?
He stopped his ceaseless circling in search of clues and focused on the wispy thread of the Force that existed between him and Obi-Wan. The bond, so startling at first, born when he still stubbornly refused to take on another apprentice, was comforting in its familiarity now. He send forth his question, the intention of where and I’m coming, but he got just a faint echo in return. Still, it gave him a sense of direction and with renewed purpose, he ventured further into the forest.
The ground went lower and lower as he walked, the terrain harsher—pushing him to jump down huge roots and slide down moss covered gorges.
Suddenly, after another descent, the ravine opened up into a massive clearing. Qui-Gon blinked in the sunlight that streamed through the opening in the canopy—bathing the enormous central tree in a golden shine. It was massive. Its moss green roots shaped the ground beneath ascending towards the three hefty trunks. Thick bark–dark and spotted with greens and yellows of lichens rose up higher and higher, a pillar shouldering the weighty ceiling of the forest. Reaching, spreading forth the branches, covered the whole clearing with a thick canopy. Thick blanket of leaves, falling, rotting, returning to the earth layered the ground—filling the air with the smell of green, living things. Of forest too old to care about names, Republics, Jedi or Sith.
“Hello, there” a cheeky voice welcomed him from above and there he was—Obi-Wan sat on a branch, flinging his legs carelessly in the air no less than forty feet above the ground.
“You seem comfortable” Qui-Gon answered in greeting, calming his anxious heart. Scratched, ruffled and with his leg in an improvised brace, Obi-Wan shot him a boyish grin, not afraid in the least. Taking that for a good turn, Qui-Gon spared a moment to appreciate the great tree in front of him. He took a step forward, to look closer…
And promptly jumped back when a root sprang out of the ground, throwing dirt into the air and almost flattening him.
“Ah, yes. It does that” Obi-Wan supplied from above as if the moving tree was the commonest thing in the world.
“Fascinating” Qui-Gon murmured. He spread his senses and listened in awe. If the lush forest of Dantooine sang to him, standing here was comparable only to standing at the bottom of a waterfall. Wave after wave of crushing sensations battered at his shields. It was as wild as it was powerful, at once inherently right and inhuman, a consciousness moving in rustles of wind, feeling with warmth on the leaves and speaking with the crackle of trunks crashing on the ground.
Qui-Gon was spell bound.
“Anytime you’re ready Master” his Padawan teased from his perch. He teared himself away from the sensation. Right. His Padawan was still very much in need of assistance.
“Can you climb down?” he asked, trying his best to channel his more pragmatical instincts. There will be time to come back here later.
“No such luck, I busted my ankle” Obi-Wan explained. “I can jump though”
Qui-Gon nodded in assent, knowing that his apprentice knew he will catch him with the Force if there will be a need. Without much more ado, Obi-Wan pushed himself off the branch with trust and certainty.
Immediately a good third of the tree lurched down, leaves, branches, trunks and all, snatching Obi-Wan from the air.
“Oy!” his Padawan yelped as he was safely repositioned in the wide branches. Once the thunderous movement stilled, Qui-Gon measured the tree with his hands on his hips.
“Well. That complicates matters”
***
They tried. They really, really tried. Every attempt of Qui-Gon trying to get closer to the tree ended with him dodging branches fast as whips or rolling away from heavy roots. The Tree—because at some point Qui-Gon started to capitalize the tree in his mind—saw everything. It didn’t have blind spots.
When Obi-Wan tried his best to jump, The Tree expertly picked him back up. At some point, in a feat of green jealousy, the branches just stashed him away twice as high between the branches and cocooned him with leaves.
Soon they were both winded, and the ground was full of freshly upturned earth.
“I think we need to change our tactics”
“I’m all ears Master”
“We need to negotiate” Qui-Gon said decidedly. Obi-Wan welcomed the statement with a very poignant silence.
“Negotiate, Master?” he finally asked, his voice dripping with doubt.
“I’m sure you heard about the concept, Padawan.” There was a wry turn to Qui-Gon’s lips. Yes, he knew that this was probably one of his more outlandish ideas, but the Galaxy was a bigger and weirder place than the Jedi philosophers could dream. And it was a good time as any to give his Padawan a lesson that life was bigger than just humanoids.
“It’s a tree, Master. I’m not sure that the lectures on intergalactic relations apply here” Obi-Wan supplied, choosing his favourite indirect approach towards criticising his Master.
“I hoped that Dantooine will be the perfect place to work on your connection to the Living Force. Listen Obi-Wan, listen and tell me what you hear”
Obi-Wan gave him a last sceptic look from his perch, but he could see the moment he accepted this new direction. It was hard sometimes to imagine how differently the Force spoke to different Jedi. Surrounded by the lush forest, he could feel the thrum, the song of the Living Force constantly. It took just a nudge to listen in. Which, as everyone from Tahl to Mace liked to remind him, was due to his ‘quirky green thumb’ and apparently was not a general attitude.
Regardless, being the studious apprentice that he was, Obi-Wan leaned back and closed his eyes, falling into light meditation. He worried that his ankle will disturb him, but apparently the brace did it work.
Qui-Gon sat himself just beyond the reach of the Tree on a patch of moss. His robes soaked through quickly, but the sensation only helped him to ground himself in the present. The moss was damp - it was not an inconvenience, but simply something that moss was. He reached out with his senses. Light breeze moved his hair. The air smelled of leaves and earth and the sun warmed his shoulder through the light cloth of his robes. Beyond that, he could feel the solid ground underneath, the roots intersecting it in all directions and the life thrumming in them. It was a slow but unstoppable movement, the power he saw earlier receding like a tide, leaving behind a quiet stream. He moved past them, towards his apprentice, brushing his presence in greeting.
They had time, and there was no other place he would rather be.
“I don’t think it can speak, but I think it understands. At least partially” his apprentice supplied after a long while.
“Good, what else, Padawan?” Qui-Gon encouraged, keeping his eyes still closed.
“I can… hear it. No, that’s not the right word. I can feel something, but they aren’t thoughts, they’re not even emotions. It doesn’t feel like an animal, or a person, it just… is”
“That’s a good start, and remember—even if it doesn’t translate into our emotions, it is a way to connect nevertheless. And all living things ultimately want the same things” Qui-Gon instructed.
“I… I don’t understand Master”
“Good”
Qui-Gon laughed at the exasperated sigh he could hear from above.
***
Again they tried. While their negotiations made definitely less mess than their previous attempts, they proved to be just as fruitless.
Qui-Gon was well and truly stuck. The mere thought of drawing a lightsaber on the Tree filled him with revulsion—it was a complex, magnificent living being and the thought of hurting it, or even threatening it into submission, felt wrong. But he could not just leave Obi-Wan here for indeterminate time. For all the good intentions, the arboreal being showed now the image of his apprentice dragged swiftly through the forest by unknown force was not something he was going to forget soon. Just add it to the catalogue of things to look out for. Which, in case of listing troubles that Obi-Wan tended to attract, made for a long list already.
He sighed heavily.
Half a day passed and Qui-Gon started to worry. For all that Obi-Wan seemed in high spirits, he was still banged up. And the point of this whole trip was to meditate in peace, instead of just testing his apprentice endurance for a new set of discomforts. So he decided to switch tactics again. He showed the water can to the Tree and then spilled some of it onto the roots.
“See? We can provide what you want, just need to understand what do you want” he said conversationally. The Tree swayed its lower branches—a gesture that both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan attributed to the confusion on their arboreal counterpart about what they wanted this time around.
“I can bring you what you need” Qui-Gon repeated with a little pantomime dance—waving at himself, at the water can and back to spill water on the Tree. He felt a surge of feelings in the Force—water pulled by the pressure up and up from roots to leaves, a splatter of raindrops on the leaves, a mix of what could only be memories on part of the Tree.
For a second, he let himself hope that they were getting somewhere. Then the Tree moved, and the forest answered—instead of the trunks moving, the trees behind him started to wave and sway, their coordinated movements like a dance.
When the last tree swayed, Qui-Gon was drenched in a few gallons of water. He spluttered and moved to get it out of his eyes while Obi-Wan wheezed with laughter.
“That’s a good look on you, Master!”
Qui-Gon turned to the Tree.
“Well. Thank you.” The Tree swayed happily, proud of itself.
***
Obi-Wan could hear his Master’s teeth chattering all the way from his branch. The only problem was to convince the stubborn Jedi to do something about it. They continued on with their negotiations for hours and now the forest was bathed in the reddish gold light of the evening. Perfectly mild temperature started to drop and the breeze picked up and all the while Qui-Gon was standing, pacing or sitting in his soaked through robes.
That had to end—Obi-Wan was a Padawan on a mission.
“Master”
“Yes, Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon barely raised his head, pacing furiously just outside the reach of the roots.
“We’ve been at this for hours” he started, but the reaction that he got was not what he expected. Qui-Gon made a few more steps, stopped, turned toward him and tugged at his half-pony tail. Nervously. Obi-Wan internally backtracked. His Master did not get nervous. Ever. Literally the last time they both waited for their very public execution, he meditated serenely, as if they were sitting in the Room of the Thousands Fountains.
“I know, I’m sure we’ll figure it out soon Padawan.” Qui-Gon’s voice was downright apologetic. That got Obi-Wan really worried.
“I know, Master. I just meant to say… that you should head back to town for the night. Get some sleep, dry your clothes”
“What? No, no, I’m fine Obi-Wan, I can keep going”
“Master… I can see you shivering”
“Hardly a sign to be worried about, Padawan. It’s not exactly Hoth.” The dry deflection had hardly any power over Obi-Wan after the last couple of months.
“Yes Master, I am sure you can withstand many nights without sleep or shelter” he responded just as dry and he had to admit that a spark of joy ignited in his heart at the indignant face that his Master made at that. Still—as much fun as it was annoying, Qui-Gon was not his current prerogative.
“My point is, Master—that you don’t have to.” At that, Qui-Gon seemed to pause. Obi-Wan took his chance to continue.
“I’m having a royal room service around here, and I can assure you I am not going anywhere. I’ll be probably more than comfortable here over the night. So there is no reason for you to get a flu on my account Master” He hoped he sounded reasonable—heck, he was being reasonable. It was Qui-Gon who switched on his stubborn nerf persona for whatever reason. As if to strengthen his arguments, the Tree had choosen this moment to bestow at his lap a bouquet of field flowers, all ready for weaving into crowns.
For a moment Qui-Gon was fiddling with his sleeves, apparently struggling to articulate something. Obi-Wan fought the need to laugh. A year ago he would take every one of his little gestures, or his silence as marks of The Rebellious Master, The Great Negotiator or The Mysterious Wise Man. Now he saw that Qui-Gon simply had a hard time speaking what was in his heart and he loved him no less for it. Probably more. His Master finally settled on honesty.
“I don’t want to leave you here, Padawan” he admitted and then quickly covered it with a reasonable excuse.
“I need not remind you that for all the friendly gestures, we have no idea what the Tree wants.”
After Telos Qui-Gon told him that he counts on him disagreeing. Well, time to test this theory in practice.
“This is not Telos, Master. And my branch is definitely not a cell” he saw Qui-Gon flinch at the memory of their untimely capture by Xanatos. He would feel more guilty about dragging that up if Qui-Gon would ever be swayed with lesser arguments.
“You wanted me to connect to the Living Force. Well, here I am. I’m sure I can connect well enough through the night as well. And you need sleep.”
Qui-Gon looked at him, his hands on his hips, and finally sighed.
“Fine.”
Obi-Wan beamed at him. Even if their negotiations with the Tree turned out fruitless today, at least he managed to negotiate this.
“Before I go, don’t you miss something?” It was Obi-Wan’s turn to be sheepish as his Master took out the lost lightsaber. With a smile, Qui-Gon threw it up, and it fell into Obi-Wan hands easily.
“Thanks, Master” he murmured, trying his best to ignore the shit-eating grin he got in return.
“Sleep well Obi-Wan” With that, Qui-Gon retreated back towards the town.
He made himself comfortable between the three trunks, where the Tree was shaped in a cradle. The branches swayed, burrowing him under a thick blanket of dry leaves. It was warm and cosy, even if small spider like creatures and beetles moved around, occasionally talking a walk over his arm. His breath evened out to the sound of the leaves rustling on the winds and soon Obi-Wan was firmly asleep.
***
Qui-God would never admit out loud how warm and comfortable he felt in the set of freshly dried robes. Usually he was not particularly austere—he followed the simple philosophy that life’s simple joys were supposed to be cherished. Regardless of what some people may think, the life of a Jedi consisted of it was not just duty and restraint. Honestly, the thought that it could be just that was ridiculous to him. The only way to uphold his duty and face the darkest corners of the Galaxy had to offer on a daily basis was through constant practice of gratitude and kindness. Which included kindness toward himself, of which his wayward Padawan had to remind him today.
In retrospect, his stubbornness on the subject was really silly. There was nothing in the Force presence of the Tree that suggested any ill intent towards Obi-Wan, and the night was perfectly mild. Obi-Wan proved himself over and over again as an independent and resourceful apprentice, and to fuss so much over him right now would only threaten the trust they worked so hard to rebuild.
Padawans grew, their solo escapades turned longer, and that was the natural order of things.
Truth was that the uneasiness that Qui-Gon felt was entirely his own fault. Their ill-fated mission on Telos was as much of a closure as to him as a new beginning. He felt slightly guilty over it, but Obi-Wan’s presence there meant the world to him. No matter if it was a decade or five, he was definitely not ready to face Xanatos alone. For whatever reason, after he failed him as Master, after he hold on to his grudges and insecurities after Melida/Daan Obi-Wan still threw everything on one card and boarded the ship to Telos with him.
He needed Obi-Wan there.
With that came a different set of realisations. In the past, he showered Xanatos with affection and praise. Conveyed his ambitions and hopes at him, missing the signs of how much Xanatos resented that. But above all, he always played the part of the unerring Master. Strong and wise, calm under pressure, always ready to lead by example…
With Obi-Wan, he started to let himself fail. And at first it came by accident—his rolling grief and disappointment over Xanatos’s Fall made him stumble and act unfittingly for a Master. But this wisp of a boy with his eyes bright with hope saw it all and forgiven him and still came with him to Telos to help.
And Qui-Gon wanted to scoff at that and berate himself, because that was not how it should go. He owed his Padawan his support and help on his way to Knighthood. He was responsible for his safety and his education, and the last thing that he wanted was to burden a teenage boy with his failings. But sometimes things happened out of order in the Galaxy and he finally started to see that the only thing he could do was be grateful and try his best.
The best he could do now was to get a good night’s rest.
***
Obi-Wan woke up to the trill of birds. With his Master nowhere in sight, he decided that just as well he can try to meditate. Maybe the new day will bring some answers.
The whole thing did not make much sense. The Tree kept bringing him odd bits and pieces from the forest. A handful of bramble like fruits, a leaf full of water, a worn shoe—everything that it seemed to connect with humans in any way. It also kept poking at Obi-Wan every time they spend too long thinking about another solution, another approach.
At the same time, the Tree was mostly ignoring Qui-Gon yesterday unless he tried to come closer (which without fault ended with a root trying to squash him into the earth) or otherwise tried to get its attention. It understood… some of their pantomimes.
He was struggling to keep his concentration on here and now—his thoughts kept wandering away, chasing logical explanations. Yet everything that Qui-Gon tried to tell him nudged him in a different direction. You don’t understand? Good.
There was something there that his Master tried to tell him. Waking up here, still feeling warm and surprisingly refreshed, he felt, well, not different, but maybe in a different set of mind. Leaning comfortably on the trunk, he felt his attention flow.
Everything around seemed to whisper at him slow down. Breath in. Be. He could feel the strange current of the Tree presence flowing all around him. Don’t understand. He thought about sabre training and deflecting bolts, of how it felt to trust the Force. Some things were not about understanding, at least not in a conscious sense. He tried to expand this feeling of unthinking focus towards the Tree.
Then, first at the edge of his mind and finally clearly at the centre of his attention, he saw. Soft snow weighing down the branches, keeping the Tree warm through the iciest nights. First breath of spring, urging the juice to flow once more. The steady thrum of the water flowing, the never ending sway of the upper branches. The Tree lived and felt and thought and talked with him the only way it knew how. Obi-Wan felt a bubbly joy spring in his heart, wondering at this connection. The Force connects all living things. Suddenly the old adage, bleached out with use, cleared in his mind for the first time.
He had no idea how much time has passed when he felt his Master presence approaching.
***
As soon as he entered the clearing, he could feel that the Tree felt different in the Force. Content.
“I think I understand what it wants now” Obi-Wan said from his branch. He was lying comfortably, the hands behind his neck, his eyes lazily tracing the patterns of leafy layers.
“Let’s hear it Padawan” The boy seemed rested and confident and any remaining uneasiness that Qui-Gon felt leaving him melted away.
“Saplings. It wants us to take its saplings to another world” Obi-Wan said with conviction and Qui-Gon nodded. There will be time to ask how exactly his Padawan knew that. For now, he was happy to trust his judgement.
“The only problem is that, I think that…” now for some reason, his apprentice hesitated. Why would he hesitate?
“… it wonders if we understand. If we know what it is to care for a sapling. And I tried to, I tried to convey that…” his apprentice continued, his head resolutely turned up to hide his face. The hesitation in his voice was even more apparent. Qui-Gon was bewildered. What could be so embarrassing for his otherwise outspoken Padawan?
“… I tried to tell it that I’m your sapling” Obi-Wan finally finished and shot him a bashful look. There was more there than just embarrassment, though. What was hidden there were the still fresh shadows of doubt and fear of rejection that cut deep in Qui-Gon’s heart.
After Telos he claimed Obi-Wan as his apprentice wholeheartedly. But how could he show that to Obi-Wan?
Usually when the inevitable questions from those outside of the Jedi Order came about the nature of Master—Padawan relationships, they were all well used to talking about apprenticeship traditions. Some cultures referred it to mentorship, other to journeymen or their own religious orders. The Tree did not need all those artificial layers of meanings. But it could understand the essence of things—that Padawans were the Order’s legacy, its way to carry on, to renew itself and thrive.
This stripped down understanding resonated with Qui-Gon deeply—he cared little for blood, conventions or dogma and knew, oh, he knew how deeply the bond with Padawans could run. A well of regret threatened to swallow him at the still fresh memory of Xanatos ultimate fate.
“I know, that’s silly” Obi-Wan said, making Qui-Gon realise he was quiet too long. He could not stand for the tone of self-deprecation in his Padawan voice. If he truly made Obi-Wan doubt that he was his sapling, then he was a poor Master indeed.
“No, Padawan” he huffed “I could not describe it better myself” He reached out through the Force as well, trying to convey his affection. It was balm on his heart how, in response, the embarrassment melted away into joy. He ached to tug Obi-Wan into a hug—but alas, there was still the Tree between them.
So he got to work. It was not hard to find a small tree seedling nearby, and he carefully extracted with a handful of earth, making sure that none of the tiny roots were afflicted. He went to the side of the clearing to try and settle this unusual negotiations.
He opened himself to the Living Force, to the current of memories flowing freely through the roots, and felt Obi-Wan doing the same. Then he started. He gestured clearly at himself and then stretched his imagination. What would he feel if he was an old tree? He projected at the Tree the patient stillness that carried him through the long years. He passed the Temple walls as his roots, reaching deep into Coruscant, his branches swaying be the pools of the Room of the Thousand Fountains, but reaching further still.
Hoping that the first part of the message was understood, Qui-Gon took the sapling into his hands. He reached into memories that he kept locked under lock and key for the last ten years. Not bothering with metaphors anymore, he simply felt through his memories. The bright light of love sparkling as he chased a black-haired boy down the creche, the child squealing with laughter as he picked him up. First slash of fear when Xanatos went down in a speeder, only to jump out from still smouldering wreckage with an impish smile. Pride at sabre tournaments, blinding him to the arrogance that drove them both. Pain of betrayal, tugging at him even now, as fresh as ever, followed by a long, long night.
And then—the bright blue eyes, earnest and hurt as he declined to take him on again and again. That too had passed, replaced by a new light—steadier, more careful, brittle at times and all the brighter for it.
Next it was Obi-Wan’s turn—he levitated the sapling, earth and all, from Qui-Gon to himself and cradled it with his hands.
“See? I have to go” his apprentice murmured to the Tree and opened himself to the Living Force. Qui-Gon got only glimpses of feelings intended for the Tree, of growth and struggle, excitement and regret. All of it with an image of earth to put the roots in, sun to reach for.
Qui-Gon could feel the Tree stirring. He reached out and realised that the sensations he felt now were not random, disjointed images. They were answers, in the only language that the Tree understood. The ever present thrum of juices flowing and warmth on the canopy changed. It spoke with the feel of flowers opening to the sun and insects stirring its leaves. With the crack of seeds and slow descent to the ground. Some seeds fell on fertile ground, sprang into life with its tiny first leaves. Other were swallowed by shadow.
There was a feeling of kinship now between the three of them – of memories shared and understood, of common heartaches and hopes.
With graceful movement, the trunk of the Tree swayed closer to the ground, opening up branches, leaving a clear way for Obi-Wan. His apprentice paused to give the trunk a good pat, sharing some soft words that Qui-Gon could not hear from the distance. That done, Obi-Wan hopped into his direction, taking care not to hurt his ankle more.
Qui-Gon was at his side in three long strides.
“Missed me, Master?” Obi-Wan asked cheekily, his eyes bright and teasing. And it was silly in a way, as many missions put them away from each other, usually in more dire circumstances, but the whole silent connection with the Tree made Qui-Gon’s heart full to bursting.
“Immensely” he admitted easily and tugged his Padawan into a hug. He all but expected that his teenage apprentice will squirm away in embarrassment, but instead he felt two strong arms encircle his waist and squeeze.
They stayed like that for a while; the Tree swaying contently in the background.