| Obi-Wan had been telling the truth when he'd told Qui-Gon he did not mind sharing a room with Jemmy, but he was still curious as to why he had been her choice of the three of them. He flattered himself that it was because she liked him and wanted to know more about himself but Obi-Wan felt certain that there was more behind her choice than he could guess at. It was with great curiosity that the padawan made his way to the room where Jemmiah had been resting although at first glance she seemed mighty reluctant to sleep. She just lay there; eyes open and fixed upon the ceiling. Obi-Wan wished he could tell what exactly she was thinking but even with his fledgling force skills he wasn't good enough to be able to tell with any accuracy. There was suspicion, guilt, fear and overwhelming bone weariness but as to her actual thoughts he was unable to discern them. Probably just as well, really.Obi-Wan spared her a quick glance as he wandered over to his bed, feeling suddenly tired. Even if it were ethical - which it isn't - I'm not sure I'd like to know what she is thinking exactly. If it involves today then it will hardly be good. What kind of life had she led? He was eager to know yet too scared to ask, Qui-Gon's warning wringing in his ears. He would have to be mighty tactful not to upset her. Maybe it would be best not to say anything at all? But then she would think he was scared and that she was being a problem… "Are you feeling okay?" he asked briefly as she sat down on the hard, uncomfortable bunk, trying to make conversation that might be acceptable. "Tired." Jemmiah replied. "Then," Obi-Wan looked at her astutely, "why not try to get some sleep? Maybe just closing your eyes will help a little…" "Thanks, but I'm okay just now." She replied, turning her head to face him. "Your name's Obi-Wan, not Jacen. That's kind of a strange name, isn't it? Where did you get it from? Your parents?" Obi-Wan shrugged and turned on his side, looking at the elfin, serious face. The large met his own and he could see that she was genuinely interested in his answer. "I don't remember my parents. At least they are nothing but shadows to me now. My life is the temple." He paused momentarily, trying to locate the right words. "I learn the ways of the force and have done since I was a very young child." "What about your master?" Jemmy wondered, idly chewing at her lip. "Qui-Gon? I've been with him for well over a year now, nearly two. He's a very fine teacher. I hope I learn half as much in my life time as he knows already." "So he doesn't…" Jemmy looked uncomfortable as she sought to say what she was thinking, "…hit you or anything? I mean, he looks nice enough but you can never tell with some people. You think they are one thing and then they're just not what they seem." "My master has never raised a hand to me." Obi-Wan vowed her solemnly. "You have nothing to fear from him. He is a very kind and compassionate man. Sometimes too much…" Kenobi sighed when he thought of the number of times Qui-Gon had returned with a new pet for the temple, or some waif and stray tugging at his coat tails. "He's very impressed with you." Jemmy blushed very, very slightly. "I don't know why. I must be a lot of trouble for everyone…and I know he didn't want to take me out with you. I think he's maybe being nice to me because he feels embarrassed because of it." "You aren't any trouble." Obi-Wan reassured her. "Yes, but I might be. I…I feel really strange. Weak in my arms and legs. I think that I might get much worse before we get to Coruscant and then your master and Vernice will have to look after me. See? I'm being a nuisance that nobody wants." "Believe me, my master does not think you are a nuisance and for that matter neither do I." Obi-Wan smiled a melancholy smile, like that of a much older man. "We both like you. It's important that you get some sleep though. It's one of the best ways of your body repairing itself." "Your master said that too." Agreed Jemmiah. "But I don't really want to sleep…" "Why?" the padawan asked curiously. He watched her face contort as she struggled between telling him the truth and keeping silent, feeling disappointed when he saw that silence had eventually one out. Admitting her feelings to people did not seem to be something Jemmiah was terribly good at and strangely it left Obi-Wan feeling disappointed and defeated. How could he help her if she wouldn't speak to him? It was very frustrating! "Well, I…" she began to twist at the long strands of hair, wrapping it round her finger, over and over, "I…sometimes…" she swallowed slightly. "It doesn't matter. Goodnight, Obi-Wan." And with that she turned off the light, pulled the covers over her head and left Obi-Wan wondering just what his master was taking on… ******** Some three hours passed before Obi-Wan actually did get to find out what was wrong with Jemmiah. She'd been valiantly resisting the urge to sleep for as long as she could hold out but the padawan had felt a certain amount of satisfaction when at last he could hear her breathing alter into the first stages of sleep, just before he himself had drifted off. It had certainly taken some time before she felt either relaxed enough or just too plain exhausted to do anything other than sleep but the padawan could hardly blame her for having things on her mind. A lot had happened to her life in such a short amount of time: her world had literally been turned upside down. All the sureties and certainties that she had clung to - bad as they had been - were now swept away until she had nothing. Tentatively Obi-Wan had watched as Jemmiah had attempted to rebuild those links with new people such as himself and his master but still the reluctance and the fear remained. She'd almost ran out of people to turn to so small wonder if she was frightened for her future… He must have been asleep only for half an hour when he found himself awakened by a gentle tossing and turning in the bed opposite his own, which had gradually got more violent as the minutes progressed. He'd been in two minds whether or not to go and wake his roommate but the decision was made for him when she'd snapped herself violently awake without any warning, gasping for breath. Obi-Wan had requested the lights to turn on at a low setting so as not to dazzle them but still he found himself squinting as the darkness was banished from the room, leaving two somewhat shaken and embarrassed youngsters facing each other. He'd asked her if she was alright but Jemmiah had only nodded and after a brief moment of contemplating what to do, edged herself off the side of the bed and placed her feet on the cold flooring. Bad dreams were a commonplace thing for Jemmiah, so she had explained, and as she hadn't wanted to disturb him any further she dragged the covers off the bed and her pillow and told him she was going to find somewhere else to sleep that would be out of the way. She was used to being alone. That didn't necessarily mean that she liked it. Of course he'd considered fetching her back, at least following her to make sure she was okay, and then perhaps telling his master who would no doubt insist that she returned to bed for her own comfort. The reason in the end he had done nothing was purely because he wanted the girl to confide in him. She was his friend, yes - but that didn't signify that she trusted him at all. Nargotria had surely taught her a hard lesson early in life: that if you didn't keep yourself to yourself and keep your head down you'd get it shot off your shoulders. He couldn't begin to imagine how it would feel to have a threat like that hanging over you for years on end, day after day. He would have found it intolerable. If he told his master where Jemmiah had gone she would simply never feel she could trust him ever again and so he reluctantly turned over on his side and tried to get back to sleep. This time there remained one person tossing and turning in bed all night - but on this occasion it was him. ********** When Qui-Gon awakened next he had found his brain throbbing against his skull as if it were seeking some way of escaping his cranium, or at least that was how it felt to him. It had taken a moment for him to recollect the bacta patch upon his head, his padawan dressing the wound inflicted on him by a flying piece of debris off a cut down swoop, the distressed yet resolute face of the Corellian girl they had risked all to smuggle off the planet… He smiled briefly at the thought of Jemmiah yet forced the expression on his face to return to neutral as he recalled Vernice's warning. He was getting too attached, was he? Well, maybe he was but that was not he point. Quite simply the child needed help and he had been the one entrusted with her care. Whatever assistance she needed to help her readjust to a new life on a strange planet he would make sure that she got it. She would no doubt in the fullness of time be found a suitable home with some family on Coruscant if a search for her relatives drew a blank but there was no reason why he couldn't keep an eye on her progress…the council wouldn't object to that. Besides which he had a moral obligation to make sure that she was okay, and even if the likes of Samir and Mace might frown and pontificate to distraction they were not unfeeling monsters or ogres the way that the initiates and padawans portrayed them. What they would object bitterly was any ideas he had of taking the girl on himself. It surprised him that he was even considering such a move, knowing that the decision was not a simple one to take. The girl was not force sensitive and once she was recovered from her illness and discharged from the infirmary there would be no reason for her to stay. She would have nothing in common with the other children other than that there were at least youngsters of her age within the precinct. Then again it was difficult to imagine a safer environment for a child to grow up in or a larger extended family than the Jedi within the temple. Merdan's threats of retribution bothered him only slightly but that was more on Jemmiah's behalf than any real fears he may have had for himself. The chances of anyone trying to seek revenge against the Jedi were very slim indeed. On her own however it might be another matter, should he ever track her down… But would he? Would Merdan feel suitably angered to risk his neck searching for the sole survivor of the horrific massacre they had left behind? The answer was a fairly obvious one: Merdan wouldn't risk his own neck for anything - but he might very possible risk the lives of other people. The ruthlessness of the man he had witnessed first hand and determination no doubt accompanied it in suitably lethal measures. Surely when he explained that to the council they would appreciate the risk that Jemmiah would be facing? He was sure that Mace would not be impressed in the least - but the man very rarely was. There was no point in scaring the girl with his thoughts of an unlikely revenge attack against her, besides which he was sure that the chilling manner of Merdan's farewell present had been burned inexorably into Jemmiah's mind. Instead he turned his attention to the notion of continuing with her healing so that she would have the best chance possible of making a swift recovery at the infirmary, although his own skills were limited. He wasn't certain what he was up against or just how far progressed Jemmiah's illness was. Vernice would also need to have time to sleep and relax. It was his turn to take watch but no doubt Jemmiah and Obi-Wan would be waking shortly…well, maybe not Obi-Wan. The boy did have a tendency to sleep in during the morning whenever the chance arose, which wasn't to say he was at all lazy. Far from it infact: if anything he had a nature which inclined towards constant restless energy. Most likely he burned himself out so much during the day that come night time he was just ready to fall asleep the moment his head touched the pillow, and of course it took the very devil to shift him from wherever he had crashed come sunrise. Qui-Gon was an early morning person: Obi-Wan was not. Obi-Wan preferred to wander the streets until dark to clear his head of clutter. Qui-Gon preferred to sit cross-legged until hazy dawn had turned to daylight. They were differences but just like both he and his padawan, they did not conflict. Well, he reflected with a wry smile, not too much. And Jemmiah? What sort of person was she? Was she and early riser like himself or a slug-a-bed like his apprentice? He supposed he would find out in due course. The journey to Coruscant had been complicated by the need to take a safer (and therefore longer) route through the minefield of potential pirate hotspots strewn across the sector and although Jemmiah had felt certain that nobody would attack Merdan's ship he himself was not convinced by blind faith alone. There was now an additional three days added to their ship time and although Qui-Gon felt he could put it to good use the feeling persisted, nagging at his subconscious that time was something they were very short of. He walked slowly towards the flight deck, wondering if perhaps his beard needed a trim or if his hair would ever quite grow back to its original length. Some cultures believed that a man's strength lay in his hair: cut it and that strength was diminished - just like the man himself. He hoped that it was not true because he was going to need all the strength he could to take on the council… Rela kept playing on his mind. Look how badly that had turned out…could he stand by and watch that happen to Jemmiah? Could he stand to see somebody whom he had come to care for in the mere space of a day be passed into a home that might not be suitable for her? He knew that the vast majority of people who rehomed children were caring, compassionate people but it didn't mean that they could cope with a potentially problematic child, and Qui-Gon was fairly certain that things might very well turn out that way if issues were not addressed as they should be. Talk to her. Qui-Gon urged himself. See how she is fairing after yesterday now she's had her first night away from Nargotria. He'd expected to find Jemmiah where he had left her the evening before, asleep on the main bed, but he never even got as far as her room. Before he'd got as far as the rec. room he knew she was already there: he could sense her within the four walls, tired and rather fed up from what he could feel from her. Another early riser, he noted approvingly. But to his initial astonishment when he first walked through the open doorway there was no sight of her at all. It took a few seconds of scanning the room for any clues until he caught sight of a pair of small, stockinged feet poking out from beneath the table that he and Jemmiah had played cards on only the day before! Incredulity gave way to the simple truth his eyes relayed to him: the girl was hiding under the table. Not exactly the most normal thing to do in the galaxy unless you were a cannoid looking for a place to sleep… Jemmiah was aware of Qui-Gon's legs from her hiding place and the boots that he had put back on even though she had not managed to get rid off all the dirt from the toes and sides. She doubted she would get the chance to do them now because he had been so determined that she shouldn't have to clean them or do any other slavish thing whilst onboard. The truth was that she had grown so used to cleaning and mending things that it was second nature. Dirt was a horrible thing: clean boots were good. How someone as noble looking and clever as the jedi master could fail to see that was beyond her understanding! The legs homed right in on her hiding place and whilst she had never really expected to stay hidden for long the fact he'd traced her so quickly was just another indication of how good he was with the force thing he had. For a moment all she could see was the legs and the boots, and then the knees that followed to her level as the master crouched down and then brought his head down until he was facing her directly. "What are you doing under there?" He asked in amazement. Jemmiah blinked her eyes, considering her reply. Once again the urge to lie was extremely powerful - not because she especially wanted to but rather because the truth was somewhat awkward to admit. Sure, his face looked kindly if a little surprised but how did she really know what he was thinking? It was so difficult for her to tell - and the most unfair thing was that he could apparently guess her own thoughts with considerable ease thanks to his force powers. Yet there was something open and honest about his expression as if he were trying his very best to put her at ease. "I couldn't sleep." She mumbled attempting to avoid his knowing eyes again. "I see." He tilted his head to one side to enable him to see her better. "Although the choice of the table rather than your bed is perhaps a little odd." Jemmiah started to fidget again. "I didn't want to be any bother." "So you thought you would be less bother under here?" Qui-Gon's forehead creased slightly with very fine lines. "I'm afraid I don't understand." "I…" she felt her mouth start to dry slightly, finding the same difficulty she had in confessing to Obi-Wan return to plague her again. Explaining her feelings to somebody was just not a natural thing for her to do. "I get nightmares. Sometimes quite loud. I thought maybe if I had someone in there with me they might go away…" "So you asked for my padawan." Qui-Gon mused, studying the uncomfortable face before him. "I thought that if they didn't go away then he might not tell anyone about my problem but when it did I realized I couldn't keep disturbing him all night with all the noise so I decided to find somewhere away from everyone and hide out for the night." "You should have told one of us the truth. That way we might have been able to help you." Jinn stretched out his hand to help her out from her hiding place, feeling the fingers trustingly grasp his own once again. "You really can talk to me or Vernice about anything that might be troubling you." Jemmiah shook her head. "It's not important." "Yes, well it's obviously important to you." Qui-Gon smiled at her. "But if you ever change your mind, please don't be scared. I'm not that much of an ogre, am I?" "No, sir…not an ogre." She shook her head. "Although when I first saw you I did think you were kind of scary." "Scary?" Qui-Gon queried. "In what way?" "Well, you were so tall...I don't remember seeing anyone so tall before." Jemmiah folded and draped her blanket over her shoulder so that it wouldn't trail along the ground. "I know it sounds silly." She turned large eyes questioningly over Qui-Gon's face. "Might I ask you a question, Master Jinn?" "Of course you can." Qui-Gon was only too relieved that she felt disposed to talk to him at all. "Go ahead." The lips pursed as she scrutinized at his face once more. "Have you always had a beard?" she asked him. "Sorry?" The question took him by surprise. "My beard? Is there something wrong with it?" "Hmmm." Jemmy screwed up her face. "I just wondered what you would look like without it." "I'm not certain I remember, it's been that long since I didn't have one." Qui-Gon rubbed at his chin with his free hand. "Don't you like it?" Jemmiah actually looked sheepish and the master wondered what he had managed to say that had caused her such profound awkwardness. She was evidently finding it difficult to work out what might cause offense or hurt amongst her companions and the hesitant way she tried to pick her way around the problems made Qui-Gon wince in sympathy. "Don't laugh." She begged him. "Laugh? Why should I…okay. I promise not to laugh." He replied in a puzzled voice. Jemmy pulled a face at him. "I've never actually seen anyone close up with a beard before." She admitted, feeling extremely foolish. "Merdan didn't let any of the guards have beards or mustaches on Nargotria. He thought facial hair wasn't smart enough. I don't think I've ever seen any of the guests with beards either." She wracked her brains, trying to recollect anyone who might prove to be an exception. "I guess you might think that's silly, huh? Imagine never seeing something so normal before. There are lots of things I haven't seen…" she let her voice trail away. "Such as?" Qui-Gon remained intrigued. "Tell me. I shall not laugh." "Snow." Jemmiah shrugged. "It never snowed on Nargotria. I don't remember it snowing on Corellia either, but I don't remember much about that time anyway. Then there are lots of things I don't know about…" the look in her eyes went from sad to anxious in mere seconds. "How am I going to fit in on Coruscant without knowing things, Master Jinn?" "Such as?" Qui-Gon sat down on the chair besides the table. "I'm worried." She confessed. "See, I'm really stupid. And I get really angry sometimes and I say things I shouldn't. I mean REALLY angry. There's a door in the kitchen cupboard that has my footmarks all over it coz I used to hammer it with my feet when I got angry. So who's going to want to look after me? You'd have been better off leaving me behind." Her face blackened perceptively and Qui-Gon's tone grew surprisingly sharp. "That's your illness speaking." He said crisply. "You are feeling down and your opinion of yourself is equally low, but when you get better you will find that things begin to sort themselves out. Temper can be worked on and overcome - if you have a mind to do it. At least you have acknowledged this fault. The first step to defeating something bad is to face it. As for being stupid, what makes you think that you are?" "How can I be anything else?" Jemmy's face fell a fraction. "I only had the tiniest amounts of schooling. There's so much I don't know about. It's not that I don't like learning: I'd love to learn! But I'd feel such a half-wit sitting at class with other kids who know so much whilst I can hardly add two figures together." "There is more to life than book learning, Jemmiah. One day soon you will see I am right." Qui-Gon gave her a pat on the shoulder. "If your scholastic abilities are limited you can pick them up. You are an intelligent and honest girl. I'm sure if you were to apply yourself with the same diligence you give to your self-doubt you will do very well indeed." He smiled at her. "I'm right, aren't I? I think you will find that there are things you know about life which the same children whose normality you are so envious of will never know. You've experienced real hardship and toil…you have the advantage of them. Anything you face now in the future will never be so bad again. These children will one day have to go out into the world and make their own way, and who knows what they will make of it?" "I've never thought of it like that before." Jemmiah agreed seriously. "I will tell you something else then, shall I?" Qui-Gon lowered his voice to a gentle whisper. "Don't be afraid of life. Be excited by it. If you put your mind to it there is nothing you can't achieve." "I've never had any choices before." Jemmiah suddenly looked over-awed by the prospect of freedom. "Then start dreaming, young lady. I'd say you have a lot of time to make up for, don't you?" Qui-Gon watched as she tried to stand up on her somewhat shaky legs. "Don't get up. I'll fetch breakfast." "Breakfast?" Jemmy swallowed nervously. "Master Jinn, sir. I'll be ill again." "Were you ill last night?" Qui-Gon asked her carefully. "Is that what you are saying?" The Corellian girl nodded slowly and Qui-Gon could almost swear she was disappearing before his eyes. Whilst not quite what he would term emaciated she was certainly dangerously thin. This was going to take some careful thought as how best to proceed. "You can take liquid onboard, I assume?" Qui-Gon asked her. "Yes, sir." Jemmy agreed. "Then I'll make you up a drink. Stay here whilst I see to it." He smiled at her again, trying to get her to relax for just a moment. He wandered towards the food storage and the rations supplies bin. There were several powdered drinks that he reckoned were suitable for her to take, and he was in the process of selecting which one was best when something else sprung to his mind regarding the night before. "I should thank you." Qui-Gon addressed Jemmiah, his back to her. "For the extra pillow that somehow mysteriously found its way onto my bed next to my own. You wouldn't be missing a pillow, perhaps?" "Your head was sore. I thought you could use it." Jemmy replied honestly. "It wasn't like I was going to get any sleep so I figured you should have it." "Thank you for your kindness, although it really wasn't necessary." Qui-Gon told her. "I'm a touch old nut to crack. I'm used to living without much comfort and on occasions I…" His words were interrupted by a dull thud. He looked round to find that Jemmiah had somehow managed to fall onto the floor out of her seat, and Qui-Gon hurried over to help her pick herself back up. "Are you okay?" he asked anxiously. "What happened?" "I tried to stand up," Jemmiah looked completely dazed, "and my legs just went from under me." "Well, if you won't stay still like I told you to…" Qui-Gon joked with her, although he noticed that she herself seemed not the least bit inclined to smile back at him. "Let me help you up." He tried to assist her but soon found that she was giving him absolutely no help whatsoever, the reason for which soon became clear when Jemmiah attempted to lever herself up from the ground but got absolutely nowhere at all. The girl's eyes became extremely frightened indeed. "I can't get up!" she gasped in dismay. "Master Jinn, I can't stand up…my legs won't move anymore!" |
| As Long as there is Hope By Jemmiah |