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Jedi Temple, Coruscant, 44 BBY
The light, white clouds hanging over the Coruscant ecumenopolis slowly parted and let a small starfighter fly through. The planet’s only sun – Coruscant Prime – had just began to touch the horizon and so, a myriad of shades of orange and red playfully danced on the shiny surfaces of numerous urban blocks, towers and skyscrapers. It was a magnificent spectacle, utterly breathtaking for off-planet visitors and lifelong residents alike.
Obi-Wan Kenobi felt a shiver of excitement run down his spine as he gazed at the familiar beauty of the Galactic capital through the window of the spacecraft. He still could not believe that he was coming back. Back home.
Only six weeks ago, he had been reassigned to the Agricultural Corps and sent to the Outer Rim planet of Bandomeer. He had left the Jedi Temple with a heart full of sorrow and disappointment, and with his lifelong dream of becoming a Jedi Knight shattered to stardust. Overnight, his most fervent hopes had turned into a mere mirage, a relic from his younglinghood, something to be meditated away and forgotten – the sooner, the better.
But then, the Force had decided to intervene. It had shown Obi-Wan a different path to follow – one that had led him straight to Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn.
The young boy was eternally grateful for such a miraculous second chance. He could not wait for the High Council to formally grant him the rank of Jedi Padawan upon his arrival – for the solemn moment his hair will be braided and Qui-Gon will officially become his mentor and guardian. As a Padawan, Obi-Wan will be able to resume his studies of the Force in the Temple and to help protect the Galaxy as part of his off-planet field training. Especially the latter was an absolutely wonderful prospect.
With his eyes still fixed on the labyrinth of Coruscant’s streets and passages bathed in evening sunlight, the young apprentice tried to reach out to his new Master through their emerging training bond. He got a response almost immediately – a soft, comforting nudge back against his own mind.
Obi-Wan smiled, stealing a glance at the tall, long-haired man sitting quietly beside him, piloting their borrowed starfighter. Qui-Gon’s face always exuded boundless patience, wisdom, and compassion – all of them essential traits of a good Jedi. Without intending to, he seemed almost regal in his bearing, and his calm, yet direct way of speaking inspired natural respect and authority wherever he went.
I have so much to learn from Qui-Gon. He is such a powerful and charismatic Master, Obi-Wan observed, letting out a soft sigh.
The corners of Qui-Gon’s mouth rose slightly in quiet amusement. It made Obi-Wan realise that his admiring glance must have turned into full-on dreamy staring. Embarrassed, he quickly bowed his head and bit his lower lip, willing himself to tune his excitement down a notch – at least for the remainder of their journey to the Temple.
“We will be there soon,” Qui-Gon announced – his deep, velvety voice laced with kindness and understanding. As if Obi-Wan’s mind was an open holobook and Qui-Gon could peruse its pages at his leisure.
If it is so, I could not ask for a nobler reader, the apprentice thought, then turned his relaxed gaze back to the orange-red horizon, twirling his shoulder-length auburn hair absent-mindedly.
Just as Qui-Gon had promised, they arrived on the premises of the majestic Jedi Temple within the next ten standard minutes and smoothly landed their spacecraft by the main hangar.
As soon as Obi-Wan’s feet had touched the ground, pleasant, insistent tingling erupted under his skin.
I am going to see all my friends again! Study in the Temple Archives! Train in the Padawan dojo! Meditate in the Temple Gardens! One day, I will become a real Jedi Knight!
Obi-Wan’s reeling mind was unstoppable, one thought chasing after the other at the speed of light. His heart was beating in a wild rhythm, and the elation he was experiencing as he followed Master Qui-Gon deeper into the Temple through familiar halls and turbolifts seemed more intense than anything he had ever felt in his life. If Obi-Wan had not known it to be unbecoming of his new rank, he would have even bounced like a crèche youngling instead of walking. So happy and so thankful he was to be back.
A few minutes later, or maybe several hours – in his joyful, unmindful state Obi-Wan could not really tell – the two Jedi reached their destination: the Masters’ wing.
“All right… Here we are,” Qui-Gon said casually, then entered an access code into the security panel and waited for the door of his – their – quarters to slide open with a soft hiss.
Obi-Wan reverently stepped inside and looked around with keen interest. The main room was a nice, airy space full of light. It consisted of a small kitchen corner with a dining table, and a living area with a large mint green sofa, a dark caf table and a tall bookcase in the same style. Opposite the entrance, there were three doors which led to the bedrooms and to a small refresher.
All those things Obi-Wan had expected to find in his new home. During their journey from planet Gala where they had last been on a mission, Qui-Gon had briefly described the quarters to him, so that he could get the general idea of what they looked like.
However, what the Jedi Master had completely omitted from his description were the ubiquitous plants – at least two dozens of them, varying wildly in size, colour, appearance and, undoubtedly, their ability to defend themselves as well.
The vast majority of the flora was located close to the only source of natural light in the main room – a large, gridded window about two feet high and over eight feet long. Some plants stood on the wide windowsill, a few others were secured under the ceiling and their long stems and shoots hung down like tentacles. A scrubby lemon tree in a giant terracotta pot guarded the door to one of the bedrooms, and in the living area, an abundant, purple-leaved liana seemed to have left its designated place on top of the bookcase and embarked on an adventure towards the caf table instead.
Obi-Wan was speechless, gazing at the small jungle in front of him in genuine awe. The quarters abounded with life thanks to all the greenery scattered around. It was gorgeous in its own, special way. Obi-Wan was instantly reminded of his most beloved part of the Temple at the sight – the Room of a Thousand Fountains and its adjacent greenhouses, where plants and trees from all over the Galaxy were kept both for culinary use and to provide pleasure to the eye.
Despite the noticeable chaos, it feels so calm and soothing to be here, Obi-Wan mused, then blinked rapidly a few times, astonished by his own admission.
His connection to the Living Force had always been tentative at best. It had been difficult for him to perceive it, let alone understand its deeper, hidden meanings. Nevertheless, at that moment, Obi-Wan could feel the Force that resided in the plants around him unusually well. With every breath he took, he sensed the busy, cheerful energy permeating the room and so, he dared to revel in the all-encompassing harmony between the Force’s various creations for a little while – this time without his usual desperate grasping for explanation and meaning. It was glorious to be able to find such profound peace of mind almost effortlessly.
Is this how Qui-Gon is feeling all the time?
Curious, Obi-Wan turned towards his tall Master. The older Jedi was already looking right back at him, a patient and thoughtful expression on his face, a little inquisitive and almost… expectant. There was something inviting, yet enigmatic in his careful smile, a glint of playfulness but also seriousness in his deep blue eyes.
For at least the hundredth time since the events on Bandomeer that had brought the two of them together, Obi-Wan contemplated what a mysterious man Qui-Gon Jinn was. Quiet, yet expressive. Kind-hearted, yet reserved. A revered Jedi Master, yet something of a maverick.
A man full of contradictions.
We are so different, Qui-Gon and me. Will we ever be able to find a way to each other? Obi-Wan wondered, secretly hoping that the answer to his crucial question was a yes.
“You did not mention there would be any plants, Master,” Obi-Wan said when he had plucked up the courage to speak aloud, and lifted a single eyebrow at his mentor in good-humoured reproach.
The slightest quiver of mischievousness crossed Qui-Gon’s inscrutable face. “Oh. Did I not?” he feigned surprise, almost perfectly. “I must have forgotten then. Please, excuse my negligence, my young apprentice.”
Obi-Wan’s mouth curved into a pleased smile. They had engaged in this kind of banter before. Each and every time, Obi-Wan’s little quips had been met with Qui-Gon’s own gentle teasing. It was a style of communication they both seemed to enjoy very much. Obi-Wan was glad for it. It was creating a sort of a common ground for them. A good, stable foundation they could build their Master–Padawan relationship upon – if they choose to.
“I think I will forgive you,” Obi-Wan pretended to consider his options for another second or two. “But only if you introduce me to my new neighbours.”
The little sparks in Qui-Gon’s eyes turned into an excited glow. As if he had been waiting for Obi-Wan to ask exactly that. “With pleasure.”
One by one, the Jedi Master introduced his curious apprentice to his twenty-seven wards. Despite Qui-Gon’s frequent absences from the Temple, they were all thriving and looked well taken care of. Some of them were common plant species that Obi-Wan remembered from his Botany classes, others he had never seen nor heard of before. There were Razor ferns, soft Balmgrass and stripy-leaved Spiderwort, bioluminescent Poola blossoms, dark red Everlilies and pastel yellow Lyrises, a carnivorous Morogian snap plant, and even a rare subspecies of the elegant Murakami orchid with large, silver-lined black petals.
When there was only one plant left, Qui-Gon’s face noticeably softened all of a sudden. Obi-Wan found it rather surprising. From everything he had seen that evening, this last plant was the most ordinary of them – an unremarkable, greyish-green segmented cactus with sharp-looking, long white spines which reminded Obi-Wan of the ever-blooming Scarif opuntias that grew in large numbers in the tropical section of the Temple Gardens.
Qui-Gon must have somehow sensed his Padawan’s struggle for comprehension because he gave him a knowing smile, then fondly admonished him. “You are letting your first impressions deceive you again, Obi-Wan. Remember that things are not always what they seem to be. Appearances can be misleading. Very often, the true nature of things only reveals itself with time. Therefore, it is wiser to wait and see than to draw premature conclusions.”
Obi-Wan felt a little sting of shame in his heart at Qui-Gon’s words. They were true. He did sometimes tend to act before properly thinking everything through. The three missions he had taken part in so far were enough of evidence to that.
I should know better, Obi-Wan berated himself. The Jedi are supposed to be above such superficial things as outer appearances.
“I am sorry, Master,” the contrite apprentice muttered, avoiding the older Jedi’s observant eyes.
“It is all right, Padawan,” Qui-Gon assured him. “You will learn to let go of assumptions and focus only on the truth – in time, with more missions and assignments. For now, just be mindful of this tendency of yours.”
“Yes, Master.”
There was silence between the two Jedi after that – just for a short while – before Qui-Gon spoke in his deep, contemplative voice again. “You were right about one thing, though.”
Obi-Wan raised his head, brow creased in slight confusion. “I was?”
Qui-Gon nodded. “This plant, the Opuntia serenniana,” he motioned to the contents of the small flowerpot standing in front of them on the windowsill, “is very dear to me.” Then, as if he wanted to prove his words, he caressed one of the opuntia’s white spines with his fingertips. “It was a gift from my Master.”
Opuntia serenniana… Of course. Everything started to come together in Obi-Wan’s mind.
Qui-Gon used to be the Padawan of Master Dooku, one of the finest lightsaber duellists and most powerful Force-users in the Jedi Order. A man, who came from the faraway Outer Rim planet of Serenno.
Obi-Wan took another look at the plant before him. Knowing its origin now, and the emotional value it had for his Master, it no longer seemed ordinary to him at all. Quite the opposite. Somewhere deep inside, Obi-Wan was beginning to feel that this inconspicuous cactus could hold the key to the well-guarded door to Qui-Gon’s heart. The door he fervently hoped he would be allowed to open one day – even if just a crack.
“May I?” the apprentice asked, then having waited for Qui-Gon’s nod, he reached out and cautiously touched a couple of the opuntia’s spines the way his Master had done.
He had been bracing himself for inevitable pricks to his fingers, but – to his utter astonishment – they never came. Instead, the thin white spines felt soft and pliant under his touch. Not at all hard or sharp like he had expected.
When Obi-Wan glanced up questioningly, he was met with Qui-Gon’s self-satisfied smirk. For some reason, the Jedi Master looked very amused by his Padawan’s unexpected discovery.
At once, Obi-Wan was reminded of the lesson from earlier.
‘Appearances can be misleading,’ Qui-Gon had said to him. Now, Obi-Wan understood why.
Having experienced this little epiphany, the young Padawan let a shy smile appear on his face. “Does this opuntia bloom like the ones in the Temple Gardens?” he asked with genuine interest.
“It does bloom. Although… rarely.”
Obi-Wan hummed, deep in thought. It was very uncommon for most plant species’ dormant seasons to last more than three local years, although it was certainly not unheard of. Still, Obi-Wan wondered what exactly ‘rarely’ meant in this case. He did not want to blindly assume again. “How often is that, Master?”
“Once in every twelve to thirty-eight standard years. Sometimes even less.”
This particular piece of information shocked Obi-Wan so much that his mouth fell open and he blankly stared at Qui-Gon for a good few seconds before his mind was able to recover.
From an early age, the Jedi were encouraged by their Masters and instructors to contemplate the passage of time – the elusive nature of the present moment, the eternal balance of the universe as a whole that completely transcends the individual lifetimes of any and all living organisms, and everything else in between. It was a remarkably humbling experience. Humbling and a little bit frightening as well, especially for younger Initiates.
Never had Obi-Wan felt closer to reaching this kind of deep cosmic wisdom than at that precise moment – as he was quietly observing every little detail of the botanical wonder in front of him. He felt a strange kind of sadness settle in his heart at the sight, one that he could not properly describe, nor explain. It was the most curious sensation. Not entirely unpleasant, but not particularly uplifting either.
The opuntia was a great mystery to him. Just as his Master was.
“Have you ever seen the bloom, Qui-Gon?” Obi-Wan asked sometime later, almost afraid to hear the answer.
Qui-Gon hesitated. It must have been only a split-second, but it was enough for Obi-Wan to notice. “Yes…” the Jedi Master muttered. “Once.” It was such a soft and unsure sound. So unlike the strong, melodic voice Obi-Wan knew.
“It was on the day of my knighting ceremony, when Master Dooku gifted it to me…” Qui-Gon continued, unprompted. “I left the flowerpot in my room, on the bedside table. And when I came back a few hours later… it was there.” His face was calm and wistful, as if he was reliving everything in his mind all over again.
With utmost care, he touched the top of the highest segment of the opuntia – presumably the place from where the bloom will grow when its time comes. “It was beautiful,” Qui-Gon whispered dreamily and let out a soft sigh. “The loveliest shade of blue I have ever seen.”
There was something so vulnerable in the Jedi Master’s unfocused eyes when he talked about his plant. Something fragile that Obi-Wan had never seen in them before. It was making the young boy want to offer some sort of consolation to him. Some comfort. Or encouragement.
In the end, he settled for a combination of all three. “Perhaps, it will bloom again soon, Master.”
A ghost of a longing smile crossed Qui-Gon’s pensive features. “Perhaps.”
And then, the delicate moment was gone, as abruptly as it had come. Qui-Gon took a deep breath and averted his eyes from the opuntia to glance briefly at the emerging darkness outside the window before turning back to Obi-Wan.
“It is getting late,” he said simply, though not unkindly. “Will you meditate with me, Padawan?”
Obi-Wan had many more questions on his mind that he wanted to ask right then and there. However, he was slowly learning to recognise when Qui-Gon considered a matter to be closed – at least for the time being. So, he only nodded, trying to release his curiosity and impatience into the Force instead.
“Gladly, Master.”
In the morning, Obi-Wan awakened very early – even before the full break of dawn. The forthcoming Padawan ceremony had occupied his excited mind all night, making his sleep much lighter than usual. Eager for the memorable day to begin, he rose and stretched a little, then took the set of sand-coloured robes that had been custom-made for him by the Temple tailor, and headed straight for the refresher.
He took a long, meditative shower, paying special attention to washing and blow-drying his auburn tresses. He had been growing them with great care for nearly five years – ever since he had come back from the Gathering on Ilum – hoping that one day, a decent braid could be made of the hair during his investiture as a Padawan.
The Braiding was an ancient Jedi custom, a symbolic act of union between a Master and their apprentice which dated back to the era of the Old Republic. Although no longer required by the Jedi Code, it was still performed and well liked among the Padawans of all species.
It had a great meaning for Obi-Wan. Once his braid will be woven, it will become a tangible representation of his dedication and commitment to his studies. The thin lock of hair decorated with coloured bands will cement his place in the Jedi Order – the way he had always longed for. He could not wait for it to happen.
About an hour later, all dressed up and prepared for the ceremony, Obi-Wan exited the refresher and went to the main room. He was immediately welcomed by the same positive energy he had felt the previous evening – lively, yet soothing. Grinning, he looked around, taking time to admire the way the first rays of golden sun reflected off the furniture and the many plant pots standing or hanging around. He felt so happy to be able to call these quarters his home now.
“Good morning, Obi-Wan.”
The young Jedi jumped slightly, only now realising that Qui-Gon had been in the room with him all this time – standing in complete silence by the window and sipping what smelled like sapir tea from a large yellow teacup.
“Good mor–”
The rest of the greeting turned into a surprised gasp on Obi-Wan’s lips when he spotted the Serennian opuntia on the windowsill behind Qui-Gon.
Not only did the plant look a lot greener than last night, there was also a bloom on the very top of its highest segment – fairly small, delicate and a shade of blue Obi-Wan could not recall seeing anywhere else before.
It was truly beautiful, just like Qui-Gon had reminisced the previous evening.
“Master, is this–... How could–... Why–” No matter how hard he tried, Obi-Wan found himself unable to form a single coherent sentence at that moment. He pleadingly gazed at his mentor, trying to convey his thoughts with facial expressions instead of words.
Qui-Gon’s lips curled up a little. For once, his face was not an unreadable, guarded mask. There was something new in those gentle blue eyes. Something cautious, but genuine. Something important and meaningful.
A sincere hope for a new beginning. A promise of a shared future.
“You see, Padawan…” Qui-Gon began, beckoning to the bemused apprentice with his hand. “There is an old Serennian legend Master Dooku once told me about.”
Obi-Wan came closer, listening attentively to Qui-Gon’s every word.
“It speaks of a magical plant that has the power to predict the future. A happy future, that is. The people of Serenno call it ‘La Speranzosa’ – the Hopeful One. It is said to only ever bloom when an important joyous event or change is about to occur in the life of its owner…” The Jedi Master paused for a long moment, eyes fixed on the opuntia, before adding in a quieter voice, “Sometimes, this is thought to be the miraculous plant.”
A spark of understanding ignited in Obi-Wan’s mind, followed by a faint shadow of incredulity.
Could the opuntia really be blooming because of me? Surely not. I am not special or important in any way. Qui-Gon did not even want to take me as a Padawan at first. I had to convince him that I am worthy of being trained. There must be a different change coming into his life soon.
And yet…
“Do you believe what the legend says, Qui-Gon?” Obi-Wan asked, because he could not not. He wanted – needed – to know.
The Jedi Master’s gaze met his again. It was brimming with hopefulness, and also determination. “I would like to, Obi-Wan… Very much.”
Obi-Wan felt his heart grow twenty times bigger at the words and their implication. “I would like to, as well,” he smiled and sent a wave of gratitude and affection to his Master through their Force bond.
Something new had begun to form between the two of them at that moment – something beautiful that they could take care of and cherish. A precious connection between their souls.
They revelled in this new, exhilarating feeling of togetherness for a while, watching Coruscant slowly wake up to greet a new day outside the window – before Obi-Wan’s empty stomach decided to remind them both that they had yet to eat.
Qui-Gon grinned. “You are right, Padawan. Let us have breakfast before we begin with the day’s many tasks.” He motioned towards the kitchen table where a large yellow teapot, two bowls of oat porridge, a plate of chopped star fruit and a carafe of jogan juice were already prepared and waiting for them to delve into.
“If I remember, we have an important braiding ceremony to attend today…” he hummed in mock-forgetfulness, then playfully winked at his apprentice.
Obi-Wan found himself grinning, feeling more joy in his heart than he had in a very long time.
