Archive: MA (if they want it) and TBC. Other places ask first.
Category: Non Qui/Obi. Non-slash. The Padawan Years.
Rating: G.
Spoilers: Slight allusions to JA #2, but no explicit spoilers.
Summary: Qui-Gon takes care of Padawan Xanatos after he gets
into a fight.
Warning: This is NOT chanslash. Not slash at all. If you don't
like a father-son relationship between Qui and Xanatos, then
reader beware.
Disclaimer: To whom do the legends belong--the folk or the
corporations? Either way, it is not me.
Feedback: Talk dirty to me: ms_elektra@hotmail.com or
elekdragon@yahoo.com
Author's Note: I watched my nephew charm his way out of being
punished, and it made me think of IndulgentFather!Qui-Gon and a
young Xanatos.
Special thanks: to XaniMistress Lyta, whose untiring beta work
is always a source of education (and amusement), and whose
XanObsession has become my own.
Elektra
Qui-Gon Jinn had been meditating in his room when a cold shiver
of danger shook his spine. It shattered his concentration and
nearly threw him to the floor with its violent suddenness.
Almost immediately, his comlink beeped to life, and the Jedi
Master knew it was bad news.
"Master Jinn," Master Vel Naron barked over the link. "Your
Padawan has done it again. This time the boy had to be taken to
the healers."
Qui-Gon felt a sharp pain in his chest, as though someone had
pierced his heart with a lightsaber. "Is he all right?" he
asked, his voice breaking at the thought of Xanatos being
harmed.
"Your apprentice pushed him down the stairs! Thank the Force
that he only broke his arm." Vel's deep voice resonated with
his exasperation.
Qui-Gon felt confused for a moment, as though he and Vel were
speaking two different languages. "Whose arm was broken, Vel?"
he asked, sure that he had misunderstood the master.
"My apprentice, Ru'Cii, of course." Of course. Vel was more
concerned with his own Padawan than with Qui-Gon's. "Xanatos,"
Vel spoke the name with sharp emphasis, "attacked him and threw
him down the stairs."
Qui-Gon let out his breath, but the pain in his chest didn't go
away. It wasn't the first fight his Padawan had been in during
the past few months, but it was the first time he actually hurt
someone. What he had thought was a simple phase of aggression
was quickly turning into a dangerous situation. The next time,
he may not be so lucky. Next time...it could be Xanatos who got
hurt. "Where is Xanatos now, Vel?" Qui-Gon asked, his hands
clutching the comlink as a spike of anger shot through his
anxiety.
"My quarters."
"Tell him I'll be there in a few minutes." Qui-Gon shut off the
comlink and stalked out of his room. His worry over Xanatos'
safety was quickly turning into anger, and though he tried,
Qui-Gon couldn't calm his racing thoughts. There was something
happening to the boy, and this time Qui-Gon would find out what
it was.
"But Master, I didn't start it," Xanatos insisted as Qui-Gon
roughly escorted him back to their quarters. His face was
swollen, and his nose slowly dripped sticky blood onto his
already red-stained tunic. His cheek was swiftly becoming puffy
and dark from the blows he received during his fight with the
older Padawan. The purpling bruise was a stark and startling
contrast to his fair skin. Holding one hand to his bleeding
nose, Xanatos shuffled his feet as Qui-Gon dragged him through
the empty halls by his right arm. When his master didn't
immediately respond to his protest, Xanatos planted his feet
firmly on the ground and sniffed loudly as he shouted, "He hit
me first!"
Qui-Gon glanced around the hallway, his face a silent apology
to the two Jedi Knights that passed them, watching him with
sympathetic eyes. Then he turned his attention back to his
precocious Padawan, chiding the boy in a low voice, "It doesn't
matter how the fight started, Xanatos. You should not have
pushed him down the stairs."
"It was an accident. I was defending myself." The loud tap of a
walking stick became loud enough to be heard over the boy's
hasty words, and Xanatos halted his protests as Master Yoda
approached the pair in the hallway. Qui-Gon bowed politely to
the Jedi, but Xanatos pouted. He stuck his lip out and pulled
irritatedly on his trapped arm, refusing to look at the
venerable master.
Yoda acknowledged Qui-Gon, but his brow creased in
consternation at the pitiful sight of the battered Padawan.
"Hrrmmm. Again beating the Padawans, Qui-Gon Jinn. Warned you
of this, I did. No good to us if resentful they are." The
wizened features softened under Yoda's smile, amused at his own
joke.
"No, Master," Qui-Gon answered politely, keeping his irritation
out of his voice. This was no time for jokes. "Xanatos--"
"Very young he is," Yoda interrupted, his ears drooping as he
stared at the child. "Angry he was." He looked deep into
Xanatos' dark eyes, making the boy fidget nervously in
Qui-Gon's grasp. Then he turned his piercing gaze to Qui-Gon,
tapping the floor with his stick. "Need to be angry you
do not."
"I wasn't angry, Master," Qui-Gon explained, but it seemed that
Yoda wasn't listening. The ancient one closed his eyes for a
moment, listening to the Force. Qui-Gon could feel Yoda's mind
brushing past them both, going to a place beyond either Master
or Apprentice. Qui-Gon wanted to ask the master what he saw,
why it was that Yoda always questioned what he did when it came
to Xanatos, but he kept his thoughts to himself as he waited
for Yoda to finish speaking.
Finally, the small Jedi opened his eyes. "Take care of him, you
must. Fragile he is." Yoda patted Qui-Gon's hand once before he
stepped around the pair and slowly walked down the corridor.
"Crazy old troll," Xanatos breathed in a vicious whisper under
his breath.
The brief breeze of serenity the ancient master brought to
Qui-Gon's mind passed away with Xanatos' flash of anger.
Qui-Gon cared a great deal for Yoda, and he treasured his
wisdom even if he didn't immediately understand it. Qui-Gon
leaned down close to his new apprentice. "I know that your
discourtesy sprang out of your anger, Padawan, so I will ignore
it for now."
"But--"
Qui-Gon held up his hand. "We will talk about this in our room,
Xanatos," he spoke in a low tone, anger biting at the heels of
his words. "Now is not the time."
Xan sniffed loudly though the blood had ceased to run from his
nose. Qui-Gon stood, and when he pulled on Xanatos' arm, the
boy moved immediately, scampering to match his master's long
strides.
Qui-Gon and Xanatos remained quiet even after they reached
their quarters. The moment the two walked through the door,
Qui-Gon released Xanatos' arm and they separated; Qui-Gon
stalked to the washing room and Xan ran to the commons.
As Qui-Gon wet a clean cloth in the sink, he pondered Yoda's
words. Very young he is. Angry he was. How like Yoda to
point out the obvious. Qui-Gon knew the boy was young. Though
uncommon, it was not completely unheard of for a Master to
choose a Padawan before the child's tenth birthday. He may be
immature compared to the other Padawans, but Xanatos was
quickly advancing under Qui-Gon's guidance. It was Qui-Gon's
hope that these episodes of anger were connected to his youth
and would disappear with age and training.
"Fragile he is," Qui-Gon whispered Yoda's final words to
himself. That was a little less obvious. Though he had been
bonded to Xanatos for less than a year, Qui-Gon was sure he
knew his apprentice better than anyone. He hadn't thought of
the boy as being fragile. Intelligent, yes. A leader, yes. A
ferocious fighter, yes. But fragile? The boy was barely ten but
he was already out performing Padawans two and three years
older than him. Ru'Cii was thirteen, and Xanatos had escaped a
fight with him with only minor injuries. Fragile? He wasn't
sure what Yoda was getting at.
Shutting off the tap, Qui-Gon squeezed out the excess water
from the cloth before he walked out of the bath. He stood at
the entryway between the two rooms, observing his young
Padawan. Xanatos was sitting on the couch, his arms folded
across his chest and his feet tucked under the cushion. The
couch, which was large enough to be comfortable for the tall
master, nearly swallowed the child apprentice. Xanatos' dark
eyes, one darkened further from an unlucky punch, stared
blankly at the white wall. His body was stiff and still, but he
breathed quickly through his nose. If Xanatos clenched his
bruised jaw any harder, his teeth would shatter.
Qui-Gon gathered the Force to himself, using it to read his
Padawan's emotions. It wasn't exactly anger he sensed, but it
was something close to it. Something that was affecting him
deeply. These couldn't just be pre-pubescent growing pains, it
had to be something else.
Observing his Padawan's emotions helped Qui-Gon to understand
his own. Anger, fear, disappointment, worry. Affection.
Tolerance. Understanding. He had been upset to hear about
Xanatos' fighting. This time, the other boy had been injured.
True it was a minor injury, and Ru'Cii would be back to normal
in a few weeks, but that wasn't the point. Xanatos' violent
tendencies were dangerous. Next time, Xanatos could be the one
lying unconscious at the bottom of the stairs. That was
something Qui-Gon could not let happen.
It was his duty to protect his Padawan, as well as the rest of
the Temple. Xanatos had such great potential; already his
command of the Force was strong, and his lightsaber skills
years ahead of his age. If his anger was allowed to continue,
it would lead only to destruction, the Dark Side. Since it
wasn't going away on its own, it was time for Qui-Gon to step
in and find out what was causing Xan's anger. The Jedi would
lose much if they lost Xanatos.
Walking over to the couch, Qui-Gon loomed high above the boy
like a vulture, his face a calm mask of concealed displeasure.
Xanatos pointedly ignored his presence by turning his face
away, his nose wrinkling in distaste. Qui-Gon felt his earlier
anger rise again, and Xanatos met his master's anger with his
own, settling deeper into the cushion as his arms hugged his
chest tightly.
Need to be angry you do not.
Qui-Gon could hear Yoda's wise voice in his mind as clear as he
had in the hallway. Yoda was right; anger was leading them
nowhere. Taking a deep, relaxed breath, Qui-Gon pushed his
fiery emotions aside and concentrated on finding his center.
Repeating Yoda's words in his mind like a meditation
recitation, Qui-Gon felt serenity, like cool water, calm his
mind. He would confront his irate Padawan with a master's
serenity, not with the anger he displayed in the halls. Qui-Gon
had no need to be angry.
Qui-Gon knelt on the floor in front of the couch so that he was
on eye-level with the boy, but Xan refused to look at him. The
sapphire eyes remained fixed on the distant wall, rudely
ignoring the man kneeling before him.
"Xani," Qui-Gon used the nickname he had given Xanatos when he
first brought him to the Temple. His apprentice blinked at the
almost-forgotten endearment, but didn't acknowledge Qui-Gon's
presence. "Xani, tell me what happened." His smooth voice,
modulated to sound kind and assuring, did not have the desired
affect on Xanatos. Qui-Gon stifled a long-suffering sigh.
Xanatos was a headstrong boy and would talk when he felt like
it. Forcing the issue at this point would only drive Xan deeper
into his bad mood.
Xanatos refolded his arms around his chest, giving Qui-Gon a
quick flash of red on his moon-pale hand. The movement was
fast, but it was enough for the Jedi Master to see that the
glowing white of his skin was broken by a line of crimson blood
along his knuckles. Xanatos was injured from the fight beyond
the few bruises he had at first noticed. Qui-Gon had been too
angry to see the scrapes on his hand until now. He had brought
the cloth to clean his bloodied nose, now no longer dripping,
but that minor injury could wait.
Infinitely more gently than he treated Xanatos in the hallway
earlier, Qui-Gon pulled the boy's hand away from his chest. Xan
fought briefly to keep his arms folded, but Qui-Gon's greater
strength and stern look won the short fight. He shook his head
in disapproval as he uncurled Xanatos' tight fist, examining
the line of drying blood--both his and the other
boy's--staining the back of his hand.
Xanatos' tiny hand nearly disappeared in Qui-Gon's grasp. The
pale flesh stood out sharply from Qui-Gon's darker tan as he
began to carefully clean the abrasions with the dampened cloth.
The boy stiffened when he scraped against a sensitive cut, but
Xanatos held his head high, his tongue silent and his chin
stiff. He had spent more time at the Temple than he had with
his father, but Xanatos still held an inborn nobility that no
amount of training could take from him. He carried himself as
though he were a prince in servant's clothing rather than a
Jedi-in-training.
Qui-Gon tenderly squeezed the tiny fingers in his palm in
silent reassurance as he patted away the crusted blood. Not
only did Xanatos' aristocratic poise made him an easy target
for the older boys, but also his ethereal figure made him
appear deceptively vulnerable to those who were insulted by his
snobbery. Though callused from 'saber training, the boy's
long-fingered hands were delicate and tapered down to thin, but
strong, wrists. Xanatos' space-black hair only served to make
his milky skin appear all the more translucent, and his finely
shaped face reflected the lanky build of the rest of his small
body. There was nothing threatening in Xanatos' appearance,
nothing that spoke of the strength hiding under the surface.
The apparent fragility in his body belied a powerful mind and
Force-sharpened reflexes. The fingers that felt like sculpted
glass in Qui-Gon's palm could break someone's wrist just as
easily. Even for one so young and small, he was trained to
become a Jedi Knight and had already proved he was capable of
taking care of himself.
The scrapes on his knuckles were small, and now that the blood
was wiped away from them, Qui-Gon determined that they didn't
need further medical attention. Xanatos' knuckles would heal
quickly and leave no mark of this incident on the boy; however,
on his heart there would be a different mark that could not be
as easily wiped away. If the frequent fights were any
indication, Xanatos was having a tempestuous time adjusting to
his newly acquired apprentice status. Whatever was disturbing
his serenity was only made worse by the tensions between him
and his fellow Padawans. The assistance and support of one's
peers is one of the many things that made the Jedi great. If
the other students were not willing to accept him as a fellow
Padawan--as an equal in training and skill--then the formidable
road Xanatos traveled as a Jedi apprentice would be made even
more arduous.
Very young he is.
Xanatos was young, but Qui-Gon was sure that he had not been
mistaken to take him as a Padawan so soon. Though it was true
that not every Force-adept was cut out to become a Knight,
Qui-Gon had no doubt that Xanatos would become the best Jedi
the Temple had seen in years. Yoda may have questions about the
youthful apprentice, but Qui-Gon had faith in the Force that
brought them together, and in the potential he sensed in
Xanatos.
Putting down the blood-stained cloth, Qui-Gon held Xanatos'
injured hand between his two large palms. Together, his hands
completely encased Xan's little hand. Looking up into his
Padawan's bruised and unhappy face, Qui-Gon let the boy feel
his affection as well as his annoyance through the Force.
Softly, he said, "I am sorry if I hurt your arm, Xani. I was
angry, but I'm not anymore. I am concerned. Why did you fight
with that boy?" Xanatos shook his head, not meeting his
master's eyes. Encouraged by the fact Xanatos was at least
listening to him, Qui-Gon continued to ask questions. "Did he
try to hurt you?" Negative. "Did you attack him, like Master
Naron said?"
With a jerk, Xanatos' eyes met Qui-Gon's, but the hardness
inside them had melted away. His entire body sagged a little as
his fear and sadness broke through his facade of indifference,
leaving him tired and shaking. The dark crystal-blue wavered as
tears gathered at the corners, making Xan's eyes seem bright in
the low light of the room. A blush spread across his cheeks as
his lower lip quivered. "I didn't start it," he insisted, eyes
burning with sorrow and sincerity.
"I know that," Qui-Gon quickly assured his apprentice.
Xanatos sniffed. The blood had dried while Qui-Gon had attended
to his injured hand, but now a different kind of fount was
rejuvenating the dried river crusting on his top lip. The soft
cloth served as a temporary handkerchief as Qui-Gon dabbed the
wetness from his nose. "How did it start?" he prodded, dropping
the cloth to the ground as he again embraced Xanatos' hand.
Xanatos sniffed several more times, then rubbed the back of his
sleeve across his still-runny nose. Qui-Gon smiled at the
gesture, but hid it quickly as he pointedly glanced down at the
cloth. Taking a deep breath, Xanatos steadied his voice and
choked out, "He called me a liar. I told him about my father,
and he said that I was a dirty liar." The tears began to escape
as Xanatos' voice picked up in speed. "He said you wouldn't
want me anymore if you knew how I lied but I didn't! I was mad
and I pushed him and he hit me and then we were fighting and I
don't know what happened but he fell and please don't leave me
Master!" Xanatos became desperate, and he laid his free hand on
top of their joined hands, the tiny fingers digging into
Qui-Gon's skin. "I won't do it again. I don't want another
master, I want you. I know I was bad. Please don't turn me
away!" His words degenerated into a series of deep, trembling
breaths as his eyes shattered in tearful remorse.
Qui-Gon rose up from his knees and sat on the couch next to
Xanatos. Releasing his trembling hand, Qui-Gon enfolded the
thin boy in his arms. Xanatos turned his head so his bruised
cheek wouldn't be crushed and rested his head against Qui-Gon's
chest. Qui-Gon held him close for a few minutes as Xan's tears
quickly subsided, the master's heart melting with every drop
that soaked his tunic. No wonder Xan was fighting so much
recently--he was afraid that Qui-Gon would reject him, and his
fear angered him. When the boys would teasingly test his limits
as they tested each other, it was to be expected in one so
young that he would react with irrational anger. Their
relationship was still new, and Xanatos was unsure of his
position in his Master's life.
By the time Xanatos recovered his calm, Qui-Gon knew his
student had already suffered enough; he couldn't find it within
himself to berate Xanatos for the fight. Yoda was right--the
boy was fragile at this point. He had yet to learn to fully
control his anger and fear, and it was tearing him apart.
Holding him even closer, Qui-Gon assured the young boy.
"Xanatos, I would never leave you. You are my chosen
apprentice, my Padawan learner. I will always be at your side,
and you at mine, no matter what happens."
Getting no response, he carefully held Xanatos away from him so
that he could see into his eyes. His face was bruised and
tired, his eyes red-rimmed, but there was a happiness there.
Surety. Security. "We are bonded together, and there is nothing
out there that can break it. No matter what you do. Do you
understand, my Padawan?"
"Yes, my Master."
"I know you feel frustrated and unsure of yourself right now,
but that is no excuse to let your emotions rule you. You must
control your anger and not allow anyone to disturb your calm.
The Force will guide you if you listen to it, but first you
must have a quiet mind." Lecture over, Qui-Gon embraced his
young ward again, sending as much approval as he could to the
small form. In return, he felt a wash of love and gratitude
from his student. "I don't want to hear that you've been in
another fight again, Xanatos."
Xanatos wiggled out of Qui-Gon's arms, no longer stiff and
unyielding as he had been before. He looked up into Qui-Gon's
eyes with complete sincerity and joy. "It won't happen again,"
he promised. Xanatos smiled, the anger and fear gone from his
clear, midnight eyes as if he had flipped a switch. The
fickleness of youth.
"See that it doesn't," he spoke gravely, but the boy's buoyancy
was contagious. Tugging playfully on his short black braid,
Qui-Gon smiled indulgently, satisfied that the matter was now
closed. "Now go wash and change, then we'll discuss the matter
with Ru'Cii's master."
Xanatos leapt from the couch, his steps light as though a
weight had been removed. Qui-Gon smiled again at the retreating
figure, pride filling his heart. How could anyone not love the
boy? His charm and cleverness, his skill and willingness to
learn. The perfect Padawan. After this difficult phase of
adjustment, he would be back on the right path. In a few years,
maybe not even a decade, he would be ready for his trials and
would become a great Jedi Knight. Xanatos would choose a
Padawan of his own, and the Jedi would be become even more
strong for the addition of such a powerful warrior.
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