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Amidst the tall ancient trees, hidden safely from the search parties of Trade Federation droids, the Gungan council of elders and the small retinue of Queen Amidala were discussing their joined rescue operation that would liberate their homeworld of Naboo from its invaders. The air was heavy and humid and for once, the bright blue sky was completely overcast by thick dark clouds. As if Nature itself was trying to provide as much protection to the unexpected refugees as it could.
Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn observed his surroundings with keen eyes, drinking in the various shades of green, brown and grey, and drawing calmness and strength from them. The foundations of the Queen’s daring plan had just been agreed upon. Now only the technicalities of tomorrow’s battle which had been designed as a diversion remained to be discussed among the Gungan generals.
Assuming correctly that these last details could be dealt with without his direct involvement, Qui-Gon took a few steps away from the small clearing where the meeting was taking place and walked leisurely towards the edge of the forest. When he reached it, he stopped by a massive Cambylictus tree and leaned against it, his back pressed to the trunk. Filtering out the agitated voices, he closed his eyes and took a deep, centring breath.
There is no emotion, there is peace, Qui-Gon said to himself and felt almost immediately how the weariness and worries of the past few days began slipping from his mind. He opened himself fully to the Living Force – the heady smell of moss covering the forest floor, the chirping of small birds in the tree crowns, the quiet rustling of the summer breeze as it blew through the leaves of saw grass and gently caressed Qui-Gon’s bearded face and long greying hair.
He smiled almost imperceptibly. No matter the place, Qui-Gon had always felt a strong connection to Nature – had always found time to marvel at its sheer beauty, abundance and diversity. He deeply respected its power and in turn, many a time Nature had helped him overcome great challenges he had encountered on his missions to various corners of the Galaxy. He felt immensely grateful for it and strived to give back to Nature – the most incredible manifestation of the Living Force – whenever and wherever he could.
All at once, unannounced but not unwelcome, a small raindrop landed on Qui-Gon’s broad forehead, interrupting his meditation momentarily. The Jedi Master wiped it off with his palm but did not move to seek shelter just yet. Instead, he opened his eyes and gazed right into the light summer rain that continued to timidly descend from the grey sky above. Revelling in the pleasant coolness of the water on his skin, he almost did not notice that someone tugged at his tabards to get his attention.
“Master Qui-Gon!” an excited voice of young Anakin Skywalker exclaimed and Qui-Gon lowered his head back down to look at him. “Is this… rain?” the boy asked with wide, innocent eyes.
The corners of Qui-Gon’s mouth rose in fond amusement. Ever since they had left Tatooine, Anakin’s mind had been producing a seemingly never-ending stream of questions. The boy was eager to discover all the mysteries of the universe that had been hidden from him until now – everything from learning how to pilot an actual spaceship to sampling a Coruscanti nuna salad sandwich. His most recent fascination appeared to be the whims of the weather.
Qui-Gon crouched to be at the same eye level as Anakin. “Yes, this is rain. As you will see, Annie, here on Naboo, the weather is far more variable than on Tatooine or even Coruscant,” he explained patiently. “Most of the year, the days are fairly warm – sunny, windy, or rainy like today. However, during a season called winter, the temperatures can sometimes drop so low that the water held in the clouds freezes while still in mid-air. When it falls down, it covers everything with a layer of tiny ice crystals. It is called snow. And it is very beautiful to look at.”
Anakin’s reaction to Qui-Gon’s words could be described as nothing short of pure wonderment. With his lips parted in silent awe, the little boy nodded as if in a trance and held his hand in front of him, watching closely as the raindrops started pooling in his palm. “Wizard,” he whispered, “I’ve never seen so much water all at once.” He let out a dreamy sigh, then resumed his inquiry. “Are there other planets like Naboo?”
“You mean with as diverse weather conditions?” Qui-Gon asked, although he had a notion where Anakin’s line of questioning was heading.
“No. As wet!” Anakin gave out a merry chuckle, his eyes still firmly fixed on the water gathering in his small palm.
Qui-Gon took a moment to look at the boy in front of him before he answered. He observed Anakin’s young, curious face and with his whole heart, he hoped that the High Council would reconsider its decision and accept Anakin into the Temple as a Jedi Initiate. The boy was incredibly strong in the Force, stronger than anyone Qui-Gon had ever known or heard of, but that was not all. He also possessed many other traits of a good Jedi. In spite of the years that he had been forced to spend in slavery, Anakin’s heart had lost nothing of its goodness and sincerity. He approached everyone and everything with openness, genuine interest and compassion, his mind was free of prejudice and deceit. And when the circumstances demanded it, he could be very brave and resourceful, too.
‘He knows nothing of greed,’ Qui-Gon remembered the words of Shmi Skywalker for at least the hundredth time since he had heard them. He agreed completely – had had enough opportunities to see the truth of them even in the smallest of Anakin’s actions.
If only the Council members could see this matter the way I do! the Jedi Master thought bitterly.
Curious to see the boy’s reaction, Qui-Gon was just about to familiarise Anakin with the existence of ocean planets and moons like Mon Cala, Quila and Nur, when the Gungan embodiment of utter chaos commonly known as Jar Jar Binks came hurtling towards them across the grassy clearing – now almost deserted as the discussants had decided to continue their battle planning in a drier place.
“Annie! It's rainen! Mesa so berry glad. Looken!” shouted the exuberant Gungan and pointed wildly towards the sky with both of his four-fingered hands. Obviously relieved to be home from his unexpected trip to the desert planet of Tatooine, he seemed to enjoy the light drizzle as if it was a heavy rainstorm. “Wesa Gungans haten da deserten and da hot weather. But wesa love wateren. Disa so bombad!”
It is important to be able to find joy even in the direst of circumstances, Qui-Gon mused privately, then stood up and watched the scene unfold in front of him.
As much as Anakin seemed to match Jar Jar’s enthusiasm for the rainy weather, he still let out a yelp of surprise when the Gungan unexpectedly hoisted him up and put him onto his back. “Jar Jar! What are you doing? We’re gonna end up drenched to the bone!” Anakin laughed merrily but made no attempt at all to get back down on the ground.
Jar Jar’s billed mouth widened into a cheeky grin. “Mebbe. But wesa goen to getsa dryen again. Come, Annie! Mesa will show yousa da sacred lakes!” And without another word, he ran away with Anakin clutching firmly onto his back.
Qui-Gon watched the pair race haphazardly across the clearing with an indulgent smile. Just before they disappeared between the trees on the opposite side, he saw them very narrowly avoid collision with an unsuspecting Obi-Wan Kenobi who was using the space under the thick branches of a particularly large Cambylictus tree as a natural shelter from the rain. Only thanks to his quick Jedi reflexes, the young man managed to step aside in time.
Shaking his head in mock annoyance, Obi-Wan sent a single raised eyebrow and a frown to his zany assailants before his expression changed into a different one. Pensive. Distant. And somehow even gloomier than the weather.
At the sight of his young Padawan, Qui-Gon’s smile froze on his lips and he felt a sharp sting of unexpected pain in his chest.
To any random passer-by, nothing would seem out of place. They would see a calm and collected Jedi, a young man lost deep in his thoughts. But not Qui-Gon Jinn.
In the last thirteen years, the Jedi Master had seen every possible kind of emotion on Obi-Wan’s youthful features – from elation to grief, from serenity to anger, from comfort to fear. The face of his apprentice, no matter how impassive it might seem to others, was like an open holobook in which Qui-Gon had learned to read. It was a mystery that he had felt honoured to know how to solve.
So, it only took one look for Qui-Gon to perceive everything with near-perfect clarity. And it was not a pleasant revelation at all.
In an instant, the events of the previous day flashed through his mind, one after another. Except this time, the Jedi Master dared to look at them from a different point of view. The almost desperate way in which Obi-Wan had tried to dissuade him from pursuing the matter of Anakin’s training before the High Council, the quiet gasp of shock that he had let out when Qui-Gon had announced his intention to make Anakin his apprentice, and most importantly the thoroughly dejected look that had settled on Obi-Wan’s face after their last conversation just before their departure to Naboo – the exchange that was far too short and far too heated to have been reasonable. All these moments were suddenly there for Qui-Gon to reflect on.
You hurt him, the Jedi Master’s conscience reproached, having reached the inevitable conclusion. And somewhere deep in his soul, Qui-Gon knew that it was telling the truth. Blinded by your engrossment in Anakin’s cause, your anger and disappointment, you completely failed to notice how Obi-Wan was feeling all this time.
Wishfully thinking he might be proven wrong still, Qui-Gon fixed his gaze back on his Padawan. Nevertheless, all the signs were right there, written in the young man’s face and in his body language – the slightly lowered head, the hands stuck deep into the pockets of his cloak, the hunched shoulders and bent back. Everything was screaming at Qui-Gon that his apprentice was hurting.
A wave of terrible guilt surged in the Jedi Master’s heart.
My dear Obi-Wan, he exhaled heavily, feeling his Padawan’s misery as if it was his own. He does not think that I want to get rid of him, does he? That I would prefer for Anakin to take his place?
As soon as the thought had crossed his mind, Qui-Gon found himself on a verge of panic. He firmly closed his eyes and tried to reach Obi-Wan through their Force bond, hoping desperately to make a connection.
The only thing he was met with was silence – cold, bleak, and incredibly lonely.
Obi-Wan must have shielded his mind from Qui-Gon, just like he had learned to do in the early years of his apprenticeship. Back then, the Jedi Master had been so uncertain about his own teaching abilities that he had been inadvertently making Obi-Wan feel like a bad Padawan. Due to this fundamental misunderstanding between them, the boy had been strongly convinced that he had been a burden to his Master, and he had often withdrawn into his own mind for long periods of time – silencing their training bond to make himself less of a nuisance. It had been a difficult time, for both of them. Several long years and dozens of missions had passed, marred by a profound sense of fear and insecurity, before the Master and the Padawan had found the courage to truly open themselves to each other. They had decided to begin anew then, and their bond had been thriving and brimming with unconditional trust and affection ever since.
Until now. Now I went and ruined everything. Again, Qui-Gon berated himself. I have reawakened a false feeling of inadequacy in Obi-Wan’s mind and wounded him – the person I hold most dear to my heart.
It took the Jedi Master some time to quiet his reeling mind and restore at least some of its usual calmness. When he did, he glanced at Obi-Wan, noting how small and vulnerable his Padawan looked as he stood all alone under the giant tree with his cloak wrapped tightly around himself for protection.
No, Qui-Gon countered his own dismal thoughts from moments ago. I will not let this mistake ruin what we have. Naboo will not become another Bandomeer, Melida/Daan or Pijal.
With this thought at the forefront of his mind, Qui-Gon stepped into the clearing and strode purposefully towards Obi-Wan, hoping it was not too late yet to try and salvage their relationship.
The young Jedi barely lifted his head when Qui-Gon took a place next to him and started to shake off the rain that had got caught on his robes during his short walk across the clearing. Obi-Wan only gave his Master a short nod of acknowledgement, then lowered his eyes back to the ground. He seemed calm, but in an unfamiliar, eerie way that unnerved Qui-Gon greatly.
For a couple of heartbeats, the two Jedi stood side by side in heavy, uncomfortable silence – so rare between them in recent years – before Qui-Gon plucked up the courage to speak.
“I would like to apologise, Obi-Wan,” the contrite Jedi Master announced in a low voice, turning his head slightly to look at the profile of his apprentice. “I realise now that I championed Anakin’s cause too adamantly back on Coruscant. I believe that the boy should be trained but I should not have spoken to you so harshly and with so much anger. I am sorry. It was not my intention to hurt you.”
Obi-Wan slowly raised his head and his sad eyes found Qui-Gon’s. “I know, Master,” he replied with a faint but sincere smile. “I have been thinking about everything, too, and I am sorry for my behaviour. It is not my place to question your actions or motivations. I should know better.” He paused for a moment to clear his throat, then continued, “I believe Anakin deserves a chance. If the Council gives you permission to train him, I promise I will not stand in the way.”
His words, no matter how conciliatory they had been meant, felt like blaster bolts in Qui-Gon’s heart. True, the Jedi Master was glad that Obi-Wan had changed his mind about Anakin but… Was it resignation that Qui-Gon had heard in the young man’s voice? The damage his insensitive actions had done to Obi-Wan’s hard-won self-confidence must have been greater than he had feared.
“My Padawan,” Qui-Gon began solemnly and put both of his hands on Obi-Wan’s shoulders for emphasis. He waited until the young Jedi looked up and his eyes, wide and overflowing with nervous anticipation, directly met his own. “It is exactly your place to voice any doubts or reservations you might have about anything at all. Please, do so just as freely as you share your ideas and suggestions with me. Being honest is never wrong, Obi-Wan. Remember that.”
“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan muttered, appearing to be a little embarrassed that he had needed to be reminded.
Smiling fondly at the young man in front of him, Qui-Gon gave Obi-Wan’s shoulders a comforting squeeze before letting go. As he did, his gaze suddenly fell on the thin long Padawan braid hanging down from behind Obi-Wan’s right ear almost to his waist. With utmost care, the Jedi Master took it into his hand and touched the silky auburn strands with his calloused fingers, his gaze softening in quiet contemplation.
I must have helped Obi-Wan braid it hundreds of times already – this silent witness of everything we have been through together as a Master and a Padawan, Qui-Gon mused, feeling unusually nostalgic for the past he shared with his apprentice. It is tangible evidence of the incredible growth he has gone through in the past thirteen years. Very soon there will be no need for him to wear the braid any longer.
“I did not lie when I told the Council that you were ready,” Qui-Gon confessed with great tenderness in his voice. “In many ways, you are already a much wiser man than I am, Obi-Wan. I perceive that you will be a great Jedi Knight. And you will make me proud. You already do, my Padawan.”
A broad grin that could rival Tatooine’s twin suns with its warmth slowly bloomed on Obi-Wan’s young face. It emanated genuine happiness, gratitude, and also relief. Qui-Gon’s heart warmed all over at the sight of it and took it as a sign of reconciliation between them.
“I am grateful that you think I am ready to take the Trials, Master,” Obi-Wan said, a characteristic spark returning to his sky-blue eyes at last. Then he snorted quietly as if he had just remembered something rather amusing, or confusing.
“It is so strange,” he began to explain. “Sometimes, I feel ready to do anything – taking the Trials, going away on a solo mission, even choosing a Padawan of my own. The things that I used to have trouble understanding before seem to finally fall into the right places in my mind.”
Qui-Gon nodded, expecting a “but” to follow.
“But other times… I still feel like a youngling who has only just constructed his first lightsaber,” Obi-Wan continued, his forehead creasing into a slight frown. “I am unsure about what to do, what to think. Even though I know that the Force has got all the answers I need, there are times when I am completely clueless about where to look for them. I keep wandering around aimlessly and I feel… lost. In a way.”
Qui-Gon’s answering look was full of sympathy and understanding. The Jedi Master knew all too well what his young apprentice was going through. Obi-Wan was beginning to realise that despite their strong connection to the Force, the Jedi were, ultimately, neither invincible nor immortal. They could not do miracles, no matter how much the entire Galaxy, including themselves, sometimes wished they could. It was a crucial realisation that every young Jedi had to come to sooner or later. An essential truth they needed to discover, on their own. It took great courage and even greater vulnerability to embark on this spiritual coming-of-age journey, but it was necessary.
‘Not all those who wander are lost,’ a wise person had said once, a long time ago, and Qui-Gon believed it from the bottom of his heart. He wished that he could show as much to Obi-Wan now. Somehow. Anyhow. In the end, the Jedi Master decided to approach the matter in his own, unique way – just as he tended to do with most things in his life.
“I heard,” Qui-Gon began in a conspiratorial whisper, leaning a little closer to his apprentice, “that a hug can be of great help in these cases.”
Obi-Wan burst out laughing, all self-doubt and uncertainty gone from his expression at once. “Really, Master?” he asked incredulously.
“Of course. It is an ancient Jedi wisdom, my very young Padawan,” Qui-Gon replied, trying to appear nonchalant and serious even though his heart was full of mirth.
Obi-Wan raised one eyebrow at his Master in a good-natured challenge. “How come I have never heard of it, then?” he asked, his eyes shining like two blue stars at Qui-Gon.
“I cannot tell you everything I know all at once. If I did, you would not need me anymore.”
As soon as the words had left his mouth, Qui-Gon realised how painfully honest and true they were, how well they reflected his own doubts and insecurities. He swallowed nervously, hoping that such sudden sincerity would not sour the relaxed and carefree mood he had just managed to revive between them.
Obi-Wan’s cheeky grin disappeared from his face, only to be replaced by something infinitely gentler and softer the very next moment. A rush of warmth passed between the Padawan and his Master through their reopened Force bond before Obi-Wan took a long step forward and winded his arms tightly around Qui-Gon’s waist, his cheek coming to rest right over the older man’s heart.
Qui-Gon let out a deep sigh of relief, then carefully rested his chin on the crown of Obi-Wan’s head and allowed himself to drink in the comfort their affectionate embrace was radiating. He clasped his hands behind Obi-Wan’s back, hiding the two of them in a secure cocoon of travel cloaks, and created a quiet refuge that felt safer than any other place in the whole wide Galaxy.
They stood under the tree, alone but not lonely anymore, completely oblivious to the world around them, until all their worries and fears had dissolved, and their minds had found their lost peace again. Only then Obi-Wan decided to speak, though still in a hushed voice, as if he was reluctant to disturb the serenity of the moment in any way. “Master,… I know that I am not a youngling anymore. And that one day – soon – I will have to let you go. But…” he hesitated for a second, “I would rather not.”
Qui-Gon was not sure if his heart could contain more fondness than it had already felt for the young man in front of him. He had marvelled at Anakin’s character earlier, but in truth, the same goodness, sincerity and compassion could just as well be found in Obi-Wan’s and maybe even greater. Master Yoda, and frankly most of their fellow Jedi, would mark such tender displays of affection as attachments – as inappropriate bonds that should be severed and meditated away. But for Qui-Gon Jinn, it was not a weakness, nor a character flaw to feel close to someone, to accept another person’s trust and love and reciprocate them. It was the most precious gift he could imagine getting.
So, the Jedi Master did not hesitate and tightened his arms around Obi-Wan’s waist just a little more before half-whispering reassuringly, “When the time comes, in a way you will let me go, Obi-Wan, and I you. But not entirely… And not for a while yet."
Qui-Gon thought he felt Obi-Wan smile against the thick fabric of his robes. “Not yet,” the young Jedi muttered contentedly, more to himself than to his Master. “Not yet.”
Qui-Gon grinned into the auburn mess of hair on top of Obi-Wan’s head.
There will come a time, and it will be sooner rather than later, when you will fly out of the nest like a newly fledged bird, my dear Padawan. A new chapter of life will begin for the two of us – the one when we will be truly equal in all ways that matter. I cannot wait for that to happen. Until it does, let us focus on the delicate charm of the present moment. For now, let us watch the rain fall for a little while longer…
