Feedback: yes, of course, I live for it.
Archive: yes, anywhere
Timing: Obi-Wan is 14.
Spoilers: none
Author’s note: the plot was lightly stolen…um, borrowed… from David Eddings’ fantasy novels. I highly recommend them.
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to George Lucas. The plot idea, as previously mentioned, was from a David Eddings novel. I make no money, from this or anything else as I have no job… anyone wanna hire me?

Part 1

Obi-Wan sat in a hard backed chair. He wondered if a sudden loss of blood to his bottom could make it go numb permanently. He shifted his weight slightly. Qui-Gon shot him a look and he stilled, sulking back into the confines of his robe.

He resisted the urge to yawn. The talks were ever so boring. Obi-Wan had long since lost the remotely feigned interest he’d had at the beginning of them. He was no longer sure exactly what was being debated. Most of it was buried under legal jargon anyway. He didn’t know why the ruling class on Nemimbi needed Jedi mediators - they seemed to have it all sorted out for themselves. Obi-Wan shifted his weight again. His feet didn’t quite reach the floor and his legs were cramping.

Taking pity on the boy, Qui-Gon turned to him, saying quietly, "Obi-Wan, if you can’t sit still, you may wait in the entryway."

Obi-Wan blushed. He hadn’t meant to fidget, but he was bored out of his mind. Secretly, Qui-Gon found the talks boring himself. He was surprised that the impatient young man had sat for as long as he had without complaint.

"Master, I-"

"It’s all right, Padawan," Qui-Gon whispered. "Just slip out and no one will notice." He winked at the youngster. "Don’t worry about the others. I’ll take care of them."

"Yes, Master."

"Be good."

Obi-Wan laid a theatrical hand on his chest. "Master," he protested.

"I know you rather better than you think, Padawan. Mind your manners. I mean it."

Obi-Wan’s mouth quirked in a hint of a smile. "Of course, Master."

The young Jedi rose quietly from his seat at the edge of the room and exited. Once in the entryway, he took stock of his surroundings. The building that the talks were held in could best be described as a palace. The entryway that Obi-Wan stood in was made of carved granite, with a huge stone staircase rising up the middle. The young man decided that its purpose was to show off the royal family and various courtiers as they descended. The banister was nearly half a meter across.

Sensing another presence in the room, Obi-Wan turned quickly, ever alert. To his surprise, his gaze fell upon a child. The boy could not be more than nine or ten years old. He looked up at Obi-Wan somewhat shyly.

"Hello there, little one," Obi-Wan said gently.

"Hi."

"My name’s Obi-Wan. What’s yours?"

"Kheldyn."

Obi-Wan started in surprise. "But that would make you…"

"The Crown Prince."

"Wait a minute," said Obi-Wan, perplexed. "Don’t you have a nanny or a guard or something?"

Kheldyn giggled. "I’m supposed to be taking a nap."

"A nap?" Obi-Wan’s eyebrows shot up. "Aren’t you a little old for naps?"

"That’s just what I thought," said Kheldyn with a grin. "We’re going to be great friends."

A little warning niggled at the back of Obi-Wan’s brain, but he squashed it with aplomb. There was nothing like mischief to alleviate boredom.

Part 2

"C’mon," the little prince cried, tugging on Obi-Wan’s sleeve. "It’ll be fun."

"Well," said Obi-Wan. "I don’t know if we should."

"Pleeeease?"

"Well…"

"They can’t get mad at me," Kheldyn argued. "I’m the Crown Prince."

"Yes, well," said Obi-Wan, hiding his smile with a faint cough. "They can get very mad at me."

"It’ll be okay," Kheldyn said. "I’ll tell ‘em I made you."

Obi-Wan grinned. "You do that."

The little prince enlisted Obi-Wan’s help in removing all the cushions from the chairs in the entry hall. They then piled the assorted pillows at the base of the giant stairwell.

"Here, watch me," said Kheldyn.

Obi-Wan obediently watched the nine-year-old boy race up the staircase. Kheldyn then hopped up on the wide banister and, using it as a slide, cascaded down, landing in the pile of pillows at the base of the stairs.

"That was fun!" he exclaimed.

"It looked like it was," Obi-Wan said, smiling politely.

"C’mon! Come with me this time," Kheldyn begged.

"I don’t know…"

"Please?"

Obi-Wan sighed. Sliding down stair railings could hardly be considered the dignified pastime of a Jedi. Even one who was only a fourteen-year-old apprentice.

Kheldyn pouted. "Please, Obi-Wan?"

"Oh, all right," Obi-Wan said, smiling. "Just once."

Kheldyn gave a small cheer and they raced one another to the top of the staircase. Obi-Wan soon discovered that sliding down a stair railing had much to recommend in the way of entertainment. The pair of them repeated the process over and over again, usually winding up in a heap among the pillows at the bottom.

On what was to be their final run, they went extra high, gaining momentum. They were zinging their way down the railing at breakneck speeds, going far too fast to stop, when the doors to the council room swung open and the participants – including Qui-Gon – stepped into the entry hall.

Obi-Wan’s mouth opened, but he was unable to speak. They were moving too fast and the air was sucked from his lungs. The entire spectacle took less than fifteen seconds to complete. The boys hit the pillows, which, it must be said, had held up admirably under the strain… until now. A seam burst as the boys hit, causing a cascade of feathers to rain down over the rather surprised heads of those assembled.

Part 3

Qui-Gon, for once, was shaken out of his carefully controlled Jedi calm. His eyes opened wide and he stared at his apprentice in utter shock.

Obi-Wan, for his part, had the grace to be embarrassed. Cheeks flaming, he struggled to his feet, brushing feathers off as he rose. A lone feather drifted down from the ceiling, alighting on his nose. The spectacle was too much for Qui-Gon. He lost whatever remained of his composure and began to laugh.

Qui-Gon’s laughter was infectious and soon the entire court was laughing. The Jedi Master staggered to a chair and sat down, burying his head in his hands, shaking with laughter.

Obi-Wan felt slightly cheated. He and Kheldyn had gone out of their way to get into trouble. He’d expected a scolding, at the very least.

Qui-Gon composed himself with some effort. He wiped tears from his eyes and regarded the two boys.

"You will," he paused, taking a deep breath. "You will clean this up, won’t you?"

"Yes, Master."

Hours later, as the two Jedi prepared for bed, Qui-Gon regarded his young apprentice with twinkling eyes.

"I must say, Obi-Wan, you outdid yourself today."

Obi-Wan blushed. "Yes, Master. So it would appear."

"I haven’t laughed that hard in years," Qui-Gon stated.

"It wasn’t that funny," Obi-Wan protested.

Qui-Gon reached out and put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. "Yes, it was. It is not wrong to laugh, my young Padawan. Laughter frees the soul and allows healing. Never forget that."

"Healing, Master? Did you need to be healed?"

Qui-Gon smiled sadly, remembering the past. He’d seen so many ills that he could do nothing to cure. He had lived a long and varied life and he had many regrets. With his thumb he stroked Obi-Wan’s cheek gently.

"Yes, Obi-Wan, I did. I have many regrets. Things I believe I should have done, or not done, as the case may be. But you showed me something today."

"I did?"

"Yes. You showed me that laughter brings hope and light, where before, there was despair and darkness."

"Oh," said Obi-Wan, not completely understanding.

"We will speak more about this when you are older, Obi-Wan. For now, it’s late and you need your rest."

"But I’m not tired," Obi-Wan protested.

Qui-Gon smiled faintly. "Yes, you are. Now, off to bed with you. Go on, I mean it."

Obi-Wan grumbled, but climbed into bed. Qui-Gon watched him pull up the covers, and then he triggered the light switch and walked into his own bedroom. As the Jedi Master lay there in the darkness, he murmured, "Oh, my Obi-Wan, you have healed me more than you know."

THE END