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Ashula entered the training room with her head held slightly lower than usual and her nails digging into her palms.
Migraine, her Master thought at the sight of her.
Mace nodded at the younglings and told them to pair up and practice the katas. He then turned and strode over to meet his Padawan, rather than making her walk to the center of the well-lit space.
“Master,” she bowed deeply, grimacing slightly as she straitened to meet Windu’s gaze.
“Padawan,” He returned the greeting, “You have classes, do you not?”
“Yes, Master. I asked Master Mundi if I could be excused from today’s lesson.”
Windu merely nodded, so Ashula continued, “I wondered if I might retire early, Master.” She inquired. Her face was pale, and small beads of sweat dotted her forehead.
“Migraine?” He asked, already well aware of the answer. Sometimes he loathed the protocol, more so when it caused such unnecessary delays during instances such as these.
“Yes, Master.” She answered, nonetheless, exhaling deeply and swallowing, undoubtedly already battling nausea as well.
“Retire to your chambers and I will check up with you before my meeting with the Council this afternoon.”
“Thank you, Master.”
Regardless of how many times now Ashula has suffered a migraine and asked to be given a reprieve, Mace noted how she never failed to seem genuinely relieved after being excused for the day.
————
Master Windu shook his head as he entered his quarters- no matter how much he appreciated the need to teach the next generation, they never failed to tire him mentally, if not so much physically.
Mace hung his robe by the door, then rang the bell to his Padawan’s private room.
A faint ‘Enter’ came from the other side, and the Jedi opened the door.
The room was completely black, save for a crack of light coming through the door to the refresher.
“How are you feeling, Ashula?” He asked, walking lightly over to where his Padawan lay crumpled up on her bed.
“Not very well, Master.” She admitted, somewhat sheepishly.
Mace glanced at the light creeping under the refresher door, “Have you been ill?” he asked.
“Just once.” She could sense her Master’s concern, and quickly added, “I think I just stood up too fast when I went to get some water.”
Mace nodded, unconvinced. He realized he had been frowning, and softened his face, “You should sleep, my Padawan.”
“Yes, Master.” She responded, eyes already fluttering closed.
————
After debating whether he should excuse himself from his afternoon meeting and settling that his pupil was certainly old enough to be let alone when she felt unwell, not to mention capable of asking for help if she needed it, he settled on attending as he had planned.
After the meeting, that, as usual, could have easily been handled through a holo transmission, Mace re-entered his quarters and set a kettle on the stove for tea.
He woke his apprentice and urged some fluids be taken, then retreated to the common area and settled in on the couch.
He had been excused for the rest of the day- meddling Kenobi had pulled the story out of him and had insisted that he be with his Padawan.
Vacantly staring at the data-comp he held in his hand, Mace debated the difference between attachment and warranted concern- not for the first instance in his time with a Padawan and decided he would need to meditate on the subject further later.
————
It hadn’t been more than half an hour when Mace felt his apprentice calling out to him through their bond. Perhaps unintentionally, he noted, as all he could decipher was pain, and what seemed to be a rush of anxiety.
Mace moved briskly to her door and opened it, pausing momentarily in the doorway in case Ashula had not intended to call him, when he saw her head turn at the sound of the door opening.
She sounded groggy, as though she had just woken up.
“Master?” She asked, gasping slightly.
“I’m here, Padawan.” He confirmed
Her voice was little more than a pitiful whisper, “‘m going to be sick.” She whimpered in realization, struggling to push herself up with her elbows, but sagging back and breathing heavily.
“Alright.” Mace said empathetically, grabbing the wastebasket by the doorway and making his way over to her side.
He slipped his arm under hers and pulled her up to a sitting position, placing the wastebasket under her chin as she started to gag.
Ashula clenched her eyes shut and clutched at her right eye, tears streaming down her cheek as she heaved again, expelling all the water she had drank not 20 minutes ago.
Mace sighed and perused his lips, “Are you alright, Ashula?” He asked
“I’m sorry, Master.” she groaned faintly and tucked her head down. Mace set the wastebasket by his side and pulled her curled body into his, resting her head on his chest.
“I don’t recall them ever being this bad, my Padawan.” He said, caressing the back of her head with his hand. His apprentice merely grimaced and wordlessly tucked her chin down to her chest. Her breathing barely slowed, and her face was now sheet white.
“I’m going to call for a Healer.” He said, pulling her body to rest in the crook of his right arm as he raised the comm on his left, “This is Master Windu. I need a Healer in my quarters as soon as possible.”
————
In the 8 minutes it took for a medical droid to reach their quarters, Ashula was sick twice more and quickly reduced to dry heaving. Mace continued to hold her upright in his arms as her whole body now trembled.
The droid rang and entered, floating swiftly to the back bedroom where Ashula and her Master sat waiting for it.
It pulled up her records and worked mechanically, taking Ashula’s temperature and checking her pulse and oxygen levels. After confirming that this was, in fact, a migraine, as Master Windu was already well aware, the droid recommended that she be admitted to the Halls of Healing for the night.
A stretcher was summoned and arrived a few minutes later, and Mace lifted his feeble Padawan onto it. His concern rose when she did not object to the use of the stretcher, but rather submitted to being lifted and carefully positioned.
Ashula continued to clutch at her right eye, wrapping her other arm around her middle and scrunching up on her side. The droid directed the stretcher down the hall, followed closely by Master Windu.
They passed few others; the halls were mostly deserted after supper time, and the few that they did see were largely ignored by the Jedi, who seemed focused only on his charge.
————
Ashula grimaced as the Healer on duty injected an antiemetic into her neck. Checking her vitals again, she spoke to Mace over her shoulder, “How long has this one been?” She inquired.
“She told me it started during her Battle Procedures class, this morning around 0700.”
The Healer was unwavering, though Mace felt silent judgement from her,
“Why did you not bring her in sooner?”
“Her migraines typically last a day or so. Normally she can sleep it off before it gets like this.” Mace elaborated, questioning why he was even concerned about the Healer’s quiet judgement.
“I see.” The Healer finally responded. She held her hand in front of Ashula’s pale face and commanded, “Rest now.”
Ashula’s brow unfurrowed and she seemed to relax, her head sinking into the pillows. She would sleep for at least a few hours, thanks to the Force suggestion.
The Healer turned to face Mace, “You may visit again in the morning. I will send for you if the situation changes.” She stated, curtly.
————
Mace was certainly accustomed to quiet evenings. Ashula often preferred to review her studies in silence or retreat to the Room of a Thousand Fountains to meditate before retiring for the night, but even during those times, Mace was used to feeling her presence there with him. It hadn’t been too terribly long since Depa had been knighted, so being left alone during the waning hours of the day was a somewhat foreign feeling to him.
Mace completed the reports for Commander Ponds and excused himself from his morning appointments, then headed off to bed himself, determined to visit the Halls as soon as he awoke the next morning.
After tossing and turning for a few hours, he had decided to simply meditate until morning.
————
The alarm on his comm brought him out of his trance with a start. After a brief breakfast and a glance at his morning messages, Mace headed back to the Halls of Healing and his Padawan.
“Ah, Master Windu,” the morning shift Healer acknowledged when he entered, “if you have come to speak with your Padawan, she is sleeping again.”
The Healer continued, “She has stopped vomiting, which is an encouraging sign.” He stated, “Though she is quite exhausted from the whole ordeal, and I will be recommending nothing but rest for the next two days.”
Mace nodded, “I would like to check in on her.” He spoke, somewhat forcefully, to the Healer
“Of course,” he conceded, “but I would prefer you not to wake her.”
Mace nodded once more and followed the man to the room where his Padawan was resting. The Healer bowed his head and left, leaving him alone with his charge.
Mace walked over to the bed where his Padawan lay, fully unaware of her surroundings, or anything else, for that matter. The Master realized he had been holding his breath, and released it slowly, drawing his focus in on his anxieties and then deliberately releasing them.
He slid his hand under Ashula’s and grasped it gently, reaching out to her through the Force. He felt pain, still, but it was dimmed and softened by a certain serenity.
“How was your meeting, Master?” His eyes shot open at the sound of her voice, which was soft and hoarse. Her eyelids fluttered in an obvious attempt to stay open.
“Uneventful.” He answered, smiling slightly, “How are you feeling?”
“I’m alright, Master.” She answered. Most of the color had returned to her face and the darkness under her right eye had faded to a dim gray.
Ashula shifted to face her Master, “When may I return to our quarters?”
“Soon,” Mace ventured, now wondering if the Healer had intended two days rest here, “Your headache?”
“Feels...normal now, Master.”
Normal, he considered, nothing “normal” about this kind of regularly occurring agony.
He pushed aside the feelings of anger and simply gazed down at her, “Very good.”
The Healer entered the room and, upon noticing that Ashula was awake, summoned Master Windu outside.
————
Ashula had leaned against her Master the entire walk back to their quarters. Having demonstrated to the Healer that she could walk in a straight line and refusing the offer of a stretcher, the Healer had agreed to release her into her Master’s care.
It was a long walk- much longer than usual, but Mace didn’t mind, so long as his Padawan was still upright and breathing regularly.
He dimmed the lights as soon as they entered their quarters and helped Ashula to the couch in the common area. She sank into the couch, closing her eyes and exhaling deeply. Mace knew that she must still be in pain, though nothing like yesterday.
He set the kettle on the stove and prepped two mugs for tea; guroot and ginger, to help with the nausea.
After a moment, Ashula slowly sat up and removed her boots, unlacing each one by hand. The Force was difficult to use with a pounding headache, as Mace knew personally. He wondered how different a sensation it was with a migraine.
Once her boots were set to the side, she grabbed the edge of the couch as if to stand, “I should change.” She murmured, though swaying slightly and she tightened her grip on the couch.
Mace walked over to her. Putting a hand on her shoulder, he nudged her back and she slumped against the back of the couch.
“I will fetch you some fresh clothes.” He said, already turning towards her room.
————
He brought her a clean tunic and skirt and set them on the couch beside her. Realizing the need to change himself, he retreated to his room and started the water for a quick shower.
Feeling much refreshed, Mace called out to his Padawan from his room before exiting.
The one problem with co-ed Padawans and Masters, he mused
A swell of panic rose in his chest when he did not receive an answer, but he pushed it down and opened the door. He was flooded with relief when he saw her- her small body curled up on the couch, having appeared to have changed her robes then fallen fast asleep.
Mace walked to the small kitchen. He poured the now-steaming water into the two mugs and brought them back over to his Padawan.
He kneeled in front of her and softly shook her arm,
“You need to stay hydrated, Ashula.” He said, handing one of the mugs of tea to her.
She straightened up and took the mug. Bringing it up to her face and inhaling deeply, she took in the aroma, deciding if she could stomach the flavor of the actual drink.
Her Master sat across from her in an armchair, stirring his drink aimlessly with a small spoon. She could feel his focus on her, almost peering into her. Ashula sipped slowly at the tea, starting to struggle to keep her eyes open again. It was so easy to become exhausted on days such as these.
She had finished nearly half of the tea when her head sagged. Mace lifted the cup from her hands with the Force and stood from his seat, placing both mugs on the table. He positioned her head on the arm of the couch and covered her with a blanket, silently thanking the Force for letting her sleep.