| It takes one to know one By Jemmiah |
Jemmiah was bored. Lying along the bed with nothing to do except think of Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan was slowly but surely driving her out of her mind. No doubt An-Paj or, if she was exceptionally fortunate, the good-looking Gethin Territ would be checking up on her soon to see how she was progressing - but in the meantime there was nothing to do except sit and twiddle her thumbs. It had got to the stage where the Corellian was even beginning to wonder if G'emela was similarly laid up in an infirmary some place, waiting to make her bid for freedom. Poor G'emela. Jemmiah was actually starting to sympathize with the woman! The problem was that Jemmy didn't know whether she should be feeling pleased that her affliction were not life threatening in any way- that the dosage of 'Drek-dust' had only been enough to render her rather happy as opposed to majorly addicted - or sad that she would soon be free to go back to Sal-Fina's tender mercies. Whichever way she looked at it a rather horrible fate awaited her. Return with the wicked witch of Alderaan or remain swaddled within blankets so starched that they felt as if they'd gone through a process of petrifaction? What kind of sick gods gave her a choice like that? "Maybe I should make the most of it, seeing as she's not here." Jemmiah cast her eyes about for her every-faithful diary, noticing it resting by the side of her bed. Trapped within her flannelette cocoon, physically tied to the bed so that she couldn't do herself any damage, she stretched her fingers out as far as they could touch…mere inches away from making contact…so nearly there…nearly… Damn! She couldn't reach it! If only she had a longer reach! If only she was that little bit taller then the distance would be nothing… Shoozer, what was with all the restraints? She hated being restrained…didn't they know that? Hadn't she told them often enough? The thought of it made her restless…made her want to yell and scream until somebody came running to untie her. But complaining would get her nowhere; and they weren't real restraints - merely tightly wrapped strips of silken fabric. There was always the temptation to tell Qui-Gon about her torment at the hands of the healers, but she was old enough to realize that those self-same, hard working individuals had done it for her own good. Why? Was she a danger to herself? "Wouldn't mind if I could just reach my diary!" Groaned Jemmy, fed up to the teeth with the way her luck was going. The last entry she had written had been something about how the Bantha in the gardens had disappeared, and how she was now totally unaffected by the whole LTW debacle…except that the Ronto at the end of her bed kept trying to steal her covers. On telling Ferdi this, the woman had used the force to put her under for an hour or so, and on awakening she'd discovered that she'd been tied to the bed! And all because of that stinking Ronto! Well, what was she to do now? She could ring the buzzer next to her bed and ask for assistance, but doing so in order to write an update in her diary seemed a little overdramatic, not to mention a waste of everyone's time. Jemmy could just picture the humorless Ferdi Xadaani standing over her, arms folded, as she asked the healer to hand over her most precious belonging. Most likely she'd confiscate it! At least when it was beside her bed she could see where it was: safe and out of Sal-Fina's grasp, even if it was also out of her own reach, too. Her eyes fell slowly upon the strangely quiet figure in the bed next to her: a plain, blank-faced looking teenager with rather pasty grey looking skin and an unusually ugly, shaggy padawan haircut. Jemmy couldn't see what color his eyes were, but she was about prepared to put money on them being some muddy, non-descript shade…like 'hint of sludge'. There was something extraordinarily weird about this apprentice, she decided, staring over towards his bed. Could he have been more silent? It was as if someone had carved him out of a block of wood! "I don't suppose you could help me?" Jemmiah asked tentatively, not wanting to shout in an infirmary ward with other sick children in it. "I can't reach my diary…do you think you could use the force, maybe…help pass it over to me?" Silence. Jemmiah's face clouded over. She wasn't used to being ignored - she'd been taught enough manners to know that it was extremely rude to do so! So much for jedi manners! So much for being protectors of the helpless…wasn't SHE helpless? How could you be anything but when you were as good as secured to a bed??? Okay, she knew that jedi weren't really meant to use the force for such trivial things like fetching and carrying, but still, how much effort would it take? "Don't speak to me then!" Snapped the Corellian. "Shoozer, you'd think I'd asked you to do something totally impossible! Hello? Are you even LISTENING to me?" Still nothing. "Kriffing jedi!" Jemmiah spat, fed up with the arrogance of the padawans within the temple. Some of them didn't speak to her because they didn't know what to say. Most of them seemed to think that she shouldn’t be staying at the temple anyway: some of them wouldn't even look at her - just like this one! What made them think they were better than she was? "I said H-E-L-L-O!" She spelled out, raising her voice in exasperation. "It would be nice if you even acknowledged that I was here!" On receiving no reply Jemmiah decided to peer a little more closely at the padawan, making a quick study of his face. There was not even a flicker of recognition, not a single spark of life anywhere to be seen! Immediately Jemmiah's heart jumped into her throat. Maybe he was…maybe he'd… "Kriff, I think he's hopped the twig!" Jemmiah gaped, fingers instantly grasping for the emergency buzzer at her side. At least that was in easy reach! "Bassalads, maybe he died when I was yelling at him!" Her perspiring fingers slipped over the contact button but finally found their mark, pressing for all it was worth. Stupid healers! Maybe if she hadn't been anchored to the bed she could have helped him! Now it was probably too late… At what seemed like an impossible speed a beige blur ran through the double doors and bolted towards Jemmiah's bed, sliding to an undignified halt right at the last minute amidst a screech of boot leather and floor tiles. Wide, alarmed black eyes regarded her with what appeared to be a faint trace of panic, the young apprentice's larynx rising in a hasty, nervous gulp. "W-w-what is it?" Simeon Cates stammered, eyes looking all over the room in search of the mystery emergency. "W-where's the fire?" "Just tell me one thing, Simeon. Is he still alive?" Jemmiah demanded with a sharp jerk of her head in the direction of the unmoving, mousy-haired padawan. "Not so as you'd notice." Simeon replied dryly, following the girl's gaze to the silent, mannequin-like figure in the bed next to her. "You've not been trying to talk to HIM, have you? Pay no attention to him. THAT is Garos Hmiol. Don't worry: the glazed expression is totally normal, I assure you. He's been in here three days and he's barely spoken a word. Maybe the odd grunt or two," Cates admitted with a baffled shake of the head, "but that's really the limit of his conversation. I'm beginning to think we'll have to buy a whistle if we want to communicate with him at all. Perhaps he only responds to clicks and chirping noises…" "I thought he looked dead." Jemmiah tried to lever herself up as far as her linen straightjacket would allow. "Are you sure he's not?" "Only from the brain down." Simeon flashed his famous grin, perching on the corner of her bed. An-Paj didn't particularly like the fact that he was a notorious bed-percher; he said it made his infirmary look untidy. Probably he was right, Simeon conceded generously, but he still did it all the same…when the man wasn't looking! "How are you? Eager to get out of her I suppose?" Jemmiah pulled the sort of face that reminded Simeon of a Gundark chewing a wasp. "I'd have thought you'd have been all eagerness to get out of here!" The padawan laughed, swinging his legs back and forth over the side of her bed. "Most people are!" "I DO want to get out." Jemmiah sighed; casting envious looks towards her diary. Why hadn't she been born a jedi like Simeon? If she had wanted anything, no matter how far across the room it was, she could just use the force to pick it up! No more struggling for the remote control! One simple flick of the wrist and Kazzow! Mission accomplished. "But?" "I don't want to go back to Sal-Fina." Jemmiah shivered, turning her head sideways to regard the comatose padawan. "Hey - he's snoring! How can he snore with his eyes open? That's impossible!" Simeon shook his head. "Not for Hmiol it's not. Believe me," Cates struck up an earnest expression, "he's taken the word 'boring' to whole new frontiers. He's got a certificate from the school of dull - first class! I have to admit I'd do just about anything to trade places with Obi-Wan right now. Hmiol is driving me up the wall! Do you know, I've never wanted anyone to recover as much as him!" "That's nice." Jemmy smiled, admiring the boys' generosity of spirit. "No it's not! I just want him away from me!" Countered Simeon, sighing irritably. "He's terminally strange…even when you know he's not looking at you, it's like he's still taking everything in on some level. Although force knows what level that might be!" He pursed his lips disapprovingly. "Don't bother with him, seriously. Anyhow, you'll soon be out of here, hey-ho!" Grinned Simeon, trying to encourage her into smiling - an effort that went completely unrewarded. "And I'm sure that Master Frosty…I mean Master Jinn will be back soon…" "Have you heard something?" Jemmiah's hopeful plea took Simeon totally aback. "If you have, please tell me?" Simeon felt absolutely terrible. He'd only been trying to lift Jemmiah's spirits, knowing that An-Paj had found her to be out of sorts and overwhelmingly miserable in Sal-Fina's company…it had seemed like the right thing to do. But now perhaps he had given her a false hope? What if - force forbid - something happened and one or other of the girl's carers did not return? It hurt Simeon to the core to have to admit that he had no news at all regarding either Qui-Gon or Obi-Wan...it felt like kicking a baby Nerf in the stomach! "I'm sorry, I haven't." He shook his head, watching as the Corellian's face instantly fell. "But I'm sure that they will be alright. Master Jinn is known throughout the temple as one of the finest and most skilled sabre wielders that has ever been, and Obi-Wan is a chip off the old block. They'll look after each other…" His voice trailed off, uncertain that he was actually making things any better or whether he was digging a bigger hole for himself. "You know, it's okay to miss somebody. Nobody will think any less of you for it." "It's just that everyone else seems to manage." Jemmiah mumbled against her pillow. "Everyone seems so confident all the time. How can they be, knowing that every time they go away on a mission something dreadful might happen to them? How can a padawan be so confident that nothing will happen to their master? And how," Jemmy pressed on relentlessly, "can a master bear to risk losing their apprentice?" "Because they're trained to accept it." Simeon answered calmly, happy to listen to her fears and worries. For 'padawan' and 'master', substitute Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon: there was little doubt whom she was referring to. "We're trained to care, yes. We do respect and admire and love those closest to us…but we can't let our lives fall apart when something bad happens. There are people out there who are relying on us to help them. They don't need nervous wrecks, or emotionally crippled beings that let their emotions run amok, clouding their judgement and their abilities…they need a calm head. That is why a jedi must be focused on a mission. Now, you haven't been raised in the temple. You haven't had the same training that we have had every day since we arrived here. Why should you see things the same way that we do?" Jemmiah nodded slowly. "I understand though. About letting feelings get in the way and making you weak. I don't like it when that happens." She admitted, batting her dark lashes at Simeon. "It's funny how people have different ways of coping with bad stuff. Master Jinn likes to meditate. Sometimes he'll sit on his knees for hours at a time with his eyes closed! And Obi-Wan likes to talk about his problems. I guess that he feels Master J sometimes doesn't listen. Of course," she ventured a tiny smile, "the same is true in reverse. I think Master J feels Obi-Wan's sometimes a bit smart with his mouth…not ready to think things through before charging headfirst into a situation." "And you?" Simeon asked conversationally. "Me?" She shrugged. "I was taught to try and shove my problems to the side. I don't meditate on them. I don't talk about them either. I just ignore them…it's what's easiest for me. I suppose I understand that jedi have to bury their fears down deep inside and keep looking ahead. It's just that some days are easier than others, you know?" Jemmiah saw him nod back at her. "And when you get lots and lots of days that are really bad, with all kinds of garbage happening all over the place, it gets to be a bit much." "Like just now?" Guessed Simeon. "It's just the way things go sometimes." Jemmiah tried to remain philosophical in adversity. "But I don't want my run of bad luck to include something horrible happening to Ben and Quiggy…you know what Ben's like," Jemmiah dropped the formality of using her guardian's official name as her speech became more and more impassioned, "he just has to look at a puddle of water and he gets pneumonia! Something will happen…I just know it." "No you don't." Simeon replied, moving closer up the bed, putting less distance between them. "You only think it will." "Maybe not this time." Jemmiah's fiery gaze locked upon- and held - Simeon's glittering jet eyes. "But it will one day. And then what will I do?" "Then," Simeon instinctively picked up her diary and passed it to her, watching the girl subconsciously hug the object to her, "your friends will be around to comfort you. Which is as it should be." "I don't have any friends…" Simeon pretended to look put out. "I thought I was your friend." He answered, valiantly trying to ignore Hmiol's eyes-wide-open snoring. "Aren't I?" Jemmiah lay back against her pillow, considering. Certainly although he'd never made any declarations of friendship before, she had come to regard Simeon - maddening clown that he was - as one of the few people she could readily trust with her life. A natural, caring person with a personality that you either loved or loathed, so buoyant and bright that it actually made people recoil at times, there was something goofily charming about him that she found somewhat endearing. And even if he was a 'prize Nerf', as Obi-Wan liked to call him, he was Ben's friend - and she'd come to rely on his judgement to a certain extent. Jemmiah's expression became lofty. "If you were a real friend you'd untie me!" She pouted at him. "Why was I tied up anyway? You wouldn't treat a prisoner like that coz you'd get sued! So why do it to me?" "Because some of the initiates were having rather nasty hallucinations," Simeon explained, "and we had to tie them down for their own safety. The worst ones we had to drug! And after you kept going on about Banthas and Rontos trying to steal your bed covers…" "Okay, okay!" Jemmiah grumped. "I get the idea!" "Although I admit," he gave a weak sounding laugh, "that I…er, should have untied you a few hours ago. It's just that I forgot…" Simeon backed away once again, feeling the outraged blast of anguish heading his direction. "An-Paj asked me but you see, I had so much to do…" "SIMEON!!!" Screamed Jemmiah, kicking at her restraints beneath the bedcovers. "Let me go this instant!" "I'm not sure I want to now!" Cates laughed, getting rapidly to his feet. "Besides, what happens if you start hallucinating again? What if you start seeing things that aren't there?" Jemmiah stopped her attempts to kick a hole through the blankets and looked not at Simeon, but rather over the young man's shoulders to where a rather unwelcome, sour-faced vision in cream stood at the end of the room. Nose disdainfully held up in the air…eyes sweeping haughtily up and down the room in the direction of the initiates…no mistaking the fact that Sal-Fina had -finally- turned up. Jemmy groaned. She didn’t need this. What a horrible, horrible end to such a fun and unusual day… "Why," Sal-Fina asked coldly whilst walking slowly and deliberately towards the Corellian, "is that strange boy snoring when his eyes are wide open?" "You're not real, go away." Jemmy remarked when Sal-Fina eventually deigned to approach her bed. "Pardon?" "I said 'you're not real'. Although I'd hate to start thinking I'd been dreaming about you." She turned her face away from the woman and closed her eyes; the only defense that she had left. "And I just want you to know that you are the most hideous hallucination I have ever seen in my life!" It had taken virtually all of the following day for the gardens to be declared safe to venture into: delivered from the deadly LTWs and their unsavory side affects. Whilst Jemmiah had been at school that day, suffering the imaginary arrows and daggers of Sophie Digwurt, Master Quillan and his helpers had been crawling about the lawns and borders, searching every conceivable nook and cranny for any escaped plants. It took just one LTW to evade notice and very soon the temple would be up to their armpits in Drek dust, well and truly back to square one. Whilst Jemmiah knew that ridding the grounds of the illegal plants was a serious issue, part of her felt genuinely sorry that her plants had been taken away and destroyed. They weren't evil things deliberately setting out to cause harm; they were just in the wrong place, that was all. She'd heard it said that weeds were also ordinary plants in the wrong place - but that didn't stop the gardeners from pulling them out… Sophie had stepped up her campaign of terror yet again. Several of her cronies had chased her on the way home from school all the way up to her waiting air cab; a sight that had left her Wookie driver somewhat perplexed. On Kashyyyk it seemed, young Wookies behaved with a little more decorum than human children did amongst the tall buildings of Coruscant - or so he had told her through his translator unit. Jemmiah's understanding of the Wookie language was extremely limited to say the least, and without the translator he might as well have been telling her he was going to shave off all his fur and streak round the senate chamber! While the thought was amusing, it had increased the Corellian's wish to learn a few more languages: starting with Shyriiwook. That would be yet another thing she could do that Digwurt could not. Maybe she could start before Qui-Gon returned? Then he'd surely be proud of her! Of course things had become increasingly worse when she'd ventured into the gardens once again, trying to get her head round her latest mathematics assignment without having to listen to Ambianca's constant air-headed chatter in the background. The initiates were back! Okay, they hadn't been as wild or as mad as they'd been the previous few days but even so this bunch were decidedly noisy and loud, their behavior not exactly conducive to good homework grades. One of the crèche masters had looked across the gardens at her and had stared - just like Sal-Fina had done - until Jemmiah had stood up, hands balled angrily at her sides, and stared right back at her! At least the woman had the grace to look ashamed and hurriedly turned away, helping her fellow carers to round up the precocious youngsters and move them back to the temple. Something about the encounter had left Jemmiah's skin all covered with Goosebumps, she didn't know why. Surely she should be used to the staring by now, after all everyone did it! But when that master had stared at her…it just felt odd. Strange. That had been yesterday. The only reason that the incident had lodged firmly in Jemmiah's mind was because a whole day later she found herself in more or less the same position: walking around the gardens, trying to avoid Sal-Fina and hoping to beat Sophie in the upcoming class spelling tournament. It wouldn't be difficult, for even although spelling was not one of Jemmy's stronger subjects; it would be fair to say that Sophie was equally poor. What mattered to Jemmiah wasn't the winning: she didn't care if she was next to bottom amongst her classmates as long as Sophie came last! Of course such an attitude would be abhorrent to Qui-Gon, but for once Jemmiah didn't care. She wished she could be smart like Obi-Wan! He was so talented at everything he tried his hand at, it was almost sickening! Maybe he wasn't the best padawan in academic terms, but he was so quick to pick things up. Sometimes when he handled a sabre he made everything look so easy…like a blur! And that was what he was like as a person, too: quick-witted, unbelievably skilled, slightly arrogant perhaps at times, but always unfailingly blunt and honest with his opinions. How she could have done with him being there at that moment! Where was her 'brother' when she needed him most? Poor Ben, she hoped he was safe! There was a pair of socks (washed, mercifully) that he'd left behind that badly needed darning. Perhaps she would make an attempt to mend them - if she could ever get back into Qui-Gon's apartment without Sal-Fina knowing about it. It seemed that there was one thing that Obi-Wan couldn't do well and that was sewing. He'd once attempted to mend a rent in his torn trouser pants using a different colored fabric altogether: he just had no shame at all! And the size of his stitching…you'd think a Bantha been responsible! Just as she was about to settle underneath her favorite tree in the gardens - a tall, Corellian oak with low branches to which Ben had once attached a wooden swing for her to sit upon - Jemmiah stopped in her tracks, dismayed. It seemed that there was somebody there already! A jedi stood with her back to her, facing in the direction of the fountains, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she was approaching. Either that or she, just like all the others in the temple, seemed to want to ignore her! As Jemmy stood, uncertain of whether she should retreat or maybe just pick another spot some place else to sit, she realized that this particular jedi was one she'd had cause to remember from the day before. Her pale aquamarine garb marked her out as a crèche master, but although Jemmiah looked about her there was no visible sign of the young initiates usually to be seen not far from their carer. It was the one who'd been staring so very impolitely at her! Even from the back Jemmiah could tell. The woman's hair which seemed predominately brown mixed through with lighter, almost golden strands was tied back in a simple Nerf's tale, hanging to the small of her back. Something about her instantly recalled a younger Nadine to mind although she couldn't say what exactly. Maybe it was the way that she was trying so desperately to appear unobtrusive whilst attempting to take in everything about her. Perhaps it was the long hair. Whatever it was, Jemmiah felt that same urge to shiver that she had the day before when their eyes had met. The woman turned hesitantly around, looking rather guilty. "I…um…I was on my break," the crèche master offered, looking distinctly ruffled in appearance, "and I thought I'd come out here for a bit. Get some fresh air…" She held up what appeared to be several long, thin bars of some confectionery; chocolate by the look of the smudged, cocoa mark round her mouth which she wiped furiously at using the back of her hand. "The children aren't meant to have this…so I had to take it away from them…don't know where they got it…" "So you thought you'd eat it?" Jemmy drawled, not knowing why she felt inclined to carry on the strange conversation. "Is it against rules for crèche masters to set the initiates a bad example? Or is that why you came out here?" The woman blushed but had the dignity to hold her ground. "I'm not setting a bad example." She instantly relaxed, feeling slightly more at ease on seeing the way Jemmiah was replying to her. "I'm just putting out of circulation, that's all!" There was something beautiful about that deep smile…everything about the person seemed to radiate comfort and warmth - it would not be difficult to see why the initiates would find their crèche master so delightful to be around. In particular the lively, hazel eyes were so full of light and merriment that they seemed to draw a person right in…Jemmiah didn't think she had ever met such a recognizably friendly person in all her days. There was hidden steel behind the pleasantly pitched voice; Jemmy had noticed that immediately. And small wonder, with all those children to look after you would need to be firm - but kind. Yesterday she'd thought the woman rude for staring at her like she was some freak in a circus, but now…now she wondered if yet again she'd been too hasty in her judgement. "Putting it out of circulation." Jemmy repeated lopsidedly out the corner of her mouth, smirking. "Sure you were! By the way…you've missed a bit." She pointed to the incriminating smear of cocoa staining the female's lips. "What…oh, where?" Fingers frantically rubbed, wiping away the guilty stain. "Gone?" "Yeah, just about." Jemmiah regarded the woman, appraising her silently. The crèche master did the same, but this time Jemmiah did not mind that the pair of them were staring at each other. This wasn't indifferent rudeness. It was more of a battle of wits. "I'm sorry for showing such bad manners yesterday." The crèche master tugged her jedi tunics into shape, freeing up any untidy creases that may have appeared within the fabric around her sash. "It wasn't nice of me. It's just that I thought…well. I could see you weren't an initiate or a padawan and my curiosity got the better of me. Forgive me?" She added hopefully. Jemmiah nodded. She didn't need enemies…there were too many of those in her life as it was. And good friends were hard to come by. This one didn't look too bad; infact in speaking to her she definitely improved a hundredfold. The crèche master held out a friendly hand. "My name's Evla Sovalla." Jemmiah smiled uncertainly, but after a moment shook the proffered hand. A distant part of her mind wondered how someone who undoubtedly worked so hard managed to keep her fingers soft and uncallused. Picking things up, tidying away, bathing smelly initiates…ewwww! Jemmy could remember exactly what years of hard work as a glorified scullery maid and kitchen slave had done to her own hands. There was a lot about this crèche master that was a puzzle. "And you must be Jennie, yes?" Evla guessed when a similar introduction was not forthcoming. "Jemmy." The Corellian corrected her. "It's short for Jemmiah, but I prefer Jemmy." Evla nodded, making a mental note for future reference. "You, er…live with Master Qui-Gon Jinn, don't you?" She hesitated, not wanting to seem unduly nosy. "I only ask because, you see, I used to know him quite well a few years back." "Did you like him?" Jemmiah asked rapidly, hanging on her words. She wasn't sure she was prepared to like anyone who didn't care for Qui-Gon. For a start it would show an alarming lack of taste! "Very much so." Evla laughed as if at some private memory. "I counted him as a good friend. Of course, our paths haven't crossed much these last few years so I haven't seen much of him at all. But I'd like to think that he still looked favorably upon me." She looked down at Jemmiah, realizing the girl had moved slightly closer to her, cutting the distance between them. "Do you like staying with him?" "Oh, yes!" she declared enthusiastically. "I really like Master Jinn! And Ben's really great too…that is to say Obi-Wan." Jemmiah explained for the benefit of the puzzled looking woman. "They both saved my life. I wouldn't be here at all if it weren't for them." Hero worship, Evla thought with a wry smile. She could understand that. In a way, she had hero-worshipped the mighty Qui-Gon Jinn herself in her younger days, so it seemed entirely forgivable that this child would do likewise. There was something about the calm, resolute Qui-Gon that seemed to inspire such emotions. Maybe it was because for many he seemed to be the definition of how a Jedi Knight should act…or maybe it was the way that he managed to communicate with all manner of people from diverse walks of life, and all ages, without ever patronizing them. He seemed to inspire whilst never consciously doing so. "It sounds like you are fortunate in your guardian then." Evla held out one of the bars of chocolate to Jemmiah, wondering if she should. That jibe about being a bad influence had really struck home. "I hope you don't think me too much of a hypocrite for offering you this. Taking from one child and giving to another doesn't really seem fair. Not to mention the fact that the stuff's not good for you, no matter what age." Jemmiah carefully reached out and selected the longest 'Curly Swurly' bar that Evla held in her hand. She had a rather sweet tooth if the truth was known, and Qui-Gon was similarly not too enamoured of her liking of really sugary things, but there was no way she was going to tell Evla that! If the woman liked Qui-Gon as much as she said then the chances were she'd retract her offer of candy in a heartbeat, and Jemmy wasn't having that! "Just think of it as helping you to dispose of the evidence." Jemmiah grinned, pealing back the sealed wrapper and nibbling at the chocolate coating. "Maybe if I share the crime it'll halve your guilt." "Are you sure Master Jinn would approve?" Evla asked lightly, scrunching up one of the packets and hastily disposing of it within the deep pockets of her tunic. Had she read her mind, Jemmiah wondered? Had she used the force to scan her thoughts? Or had her face somehow given it away? Instantly she backed off, afraid that Evla would delve deeper into the more private recesses of her subconscious. "I didn't pry." Evla insisted on seeing the girl flinch away, seeking instantly to sooth her doubts. "I promise you. You don't have to worry about my using the force to check up on you. Why, that would be a terrible abuse of power, both as a jedi and as a crèche master. I only said it," the woman stepped nearer to Jemmy slowly, "because as I say, I knew Qui-Gon quite well. I saw what he was like with his second padawan and I doubted very much that he'd changed as far as basic principles go. Snacking was not something he liked to indulge overmuch." Jemmiah snickered to herself. This Evla knew Qui-Gon as well as she said she did! Instantly the example brought an image to mind of Obi-Wan raiding the refrigeration unit during the night! And she was little better…poor Qui-Gon to have to put up with two such Gamorrean children! It was a good thing that they both burned off the pounds in physical (in Obi-Wan's case) and nervous energy otherwise they would soon be requiring a repulsar lift chair to get about! Not that she could ever imagine Obi-Wan as anything other than lean…and as for herself, she was just plain skin and bone. She looked down at her thin arms and sighed. If a passing cannoid spotted her in the streets he'd probably mistake her for a stick and try and run off with her. At least Ben could hope to put on some muscle as her grew towards manhood… "What's the matter?" Evla asked in a kindly voice. "Have I said something wrong?" "It's not you." Jemmy shook her head slightly. "I was thinking about Obi-Wan. I miss him a lot. I like listening to him talk about all the things he does in training," she fidgeted, her hands wringing at the cuffs of her jacket sleeve, "and all the things he gets up to with his friends." "Where is he?" Evla frowned, genuinely surprised. "Is he not at the temple?" "No, ma'am. He and Master Jinn got sent away on a mission." Her shoulders drooped, as did her face. "Now I haven't got anyone to speak to and it gets kind of lonely sometimes…I don't even know why I'm telling you all this." She added, embarrassed that she should relate her tale of woe to a total stranger. Looking up, expecting Evla to be feeling the same cringing, acute awkwardness as she herself was experiencing, Jemmiah was astonished to note that the crèche master was wearing the self-same interested, attentive expression that Obi-Wan would always adopt whenever he listened to her. Puzzled, Jemmiah squinted at her through a half-closed eye. Was she genuinely interested? And if so, why? She'd barely known her more than five minutes. Possibly it was just the woman's caring nature. Maybe she just couldn't switch it off even when away from the temple terrors…perhaps she didn't want to. In a brief flash of insight Jemmy began to realize precisely why the crèche masters were so well loved by all. "What about your friends?" Evla wondered. "Don’t you talk to them?" For about five seconds there was silence. "I don't have any." Jemmiah admitted, trying to sound flippant and failing miserably. "The only people who speak to me in the temple are the healers, because I'm always there on a regular basis. I get sick, d'you see?" The Corellian's accent became more and more pronounced as the bitterness seeped into her words. "They're okay considering the job they do. But nobody else speaks to me. Just Master Jinn's friends or Ben's friends. They're not really my own friends though, more sort of acquaintances. The only ones who do speak to me are Master Berlingside and his padawan…" "Ah, the infamous Dex Berlingside." Evla nodded in approval, flashing a starburst of a grin which disappeared almost as soon as it had arrived. "So you've met him, have you? He's a good man. A bit of a rogue," she warned with a raise of one eyebrow, "but a kind heart nonetheless. He's been a good friend to Qui-Gon over the years." "I like Master Berlingside." Jemmiah smiled faintly at her feet. "And I think he likes me. But nobody else does, That's the trouble…" "I'm sure that…" Evla began, only to be cut off in her tracks. "I've been here months and months now. Long enough for people to speak to me, or say something - anything! But they either ignore me or they look at me like I'm something to be ashamed of…to be hidden away." Jemmiah regarded Evla with large, shining eyes. "How long does it take?" The answer came in the form of a somewhat surprising hug, which so took Jemmiah aback that it all but squashed the breath from her! The arm that sneaked around her shoulders was misleadingly powerful - as was the strength of will behind it - and much as Jemmiah disliked scenes of such a nature, (be it Qui-Gon or Obi-Wan) it was impossible not to enjoy being wrapped within the cocoon of warmth that Evla projected. Some crèche master trick, no doubt, Jemmiah thought to herself…but a highly effective one. And force knew she felt she could do with a hug at that moment. What a miserable, dreadful few days it had been without Quiggy and Ben… "They'll come round." Evla whispered against her cheek. "And if they don't then it's simply their mistake and their loss. A poor excuse for jedi they are if they don't see it that way. Now," she tidied the hair behind Jemmiah's left ear, "how about you keep the chocolate? It's a poor substitute for not having your guardian with you but it might make you feel a little better. And it'll salve my conscience in the process!" I think I like this person,Jemmiah thought, astonished that the embrace was still continuing. Chocolate AND a hug? It can't get much better than this! I mean, Ben listens and all…but I would never want a hug off him! She quickly discounted the way she'd thrown her arms around him before his departure - that didn't count anyway. And the chances of me getting given bars of chocolate when Ben's around are frankly zero, coz he'd have eaten them all… "I won't tell Master J when he comes back." Jemmiah smiled when Evla finally released her, wondering if the chocolate had melted with all the comforting warmth Evla had summoned up from force knew where, just like a never-ending blanket. "Tell him what?" "That you've been feeding me junk food." The Corellian laughed, feeling so much better than she had at any time since getting out of the infirmary. "And it's not like Sal-Fina would approve either…" Evla's head snapped up, her ears pricking at the mention of the name. "Sal-Fina?" She repeated, the word sounding like acid on her tongue. "Did you say Sal-Fina?" "Y-yeah." Jemmiah's confusion became even greater on seeing Evla's sunny expression melt into something much harder…much less agreeable than before. "I have to stay with her and Ambianca whilst Master J and Obi-Wan are away." Was it possible, Jemmy wondered, for someone to change so much in the space of a few mere seconds? Was there any blood left in Evla's face? It seemed to have departed in an awful hurry! So, Evla didn't like Sal-Fina, that much was obvious. All the more reason to put her trust in the crèche carer. Perhaps she'd found a friend after all! "I don't really like staying there." Jemmy confessed, hoping not to make it sound to melodramatic. "I don't really blame you." Replied Evla out the corner of her mouth, gazing over toward the main temple building. Soon it would be time to go back and take over Genista's shift, but it irked Evla no end that there could be no satisfactory conclusion to this particular sorry tale. It was strange the way she felt it were owed Qui-Gon that she should make certain his young ward was looked after in his absence. Not that he would ever expect such a favor from a friend long since put to the side of his life, although not totally forgotten either. The girl was intelligent, smart, and above all terribly lonely. Evla could feel the ache that had squeezed the child's heart as she'd talked of her lack of friends and it had moved her to feel great pity: but what could she do? Stuck with Sal-Fina until Qui-Gon's return? Nobody deserved such a fate. What was the council thinking of in approving such a guardian? The only person that Sal-Fina truly liked was Ambianca; everybody else was looked down upon with considerable distaste, so what chance did Qui-Gon's girl stand? Qui-Gon's girl… "I think that we should be getting back." Evla guided the reluctant Jemmiah by the shoulder and pointed her in the direction of the doorway, walking step by slow, protracted step by her side. Neither of them was in much of a hurry, so it seemed. Evla's thoughts were preoccupied with thoughts of Jemmiah and Qui-Gon, whilst Jemmy tried desperately not to think about Sal-Fina and the frosty reception that would no doubt await her on her return. If she was actually there to let her in. "I'm glad to have met you, Qui-Gon's daughter." Evla smiled thoughtfully at her, watching as Jemmiah seemed to buoy up at the mention of the master's name. "Maybe I'll see you in the gardens again some time and we can talk some more…see how you are doing." "I'd like that." Jemmy smiled at Evla. "Oh…just one thing." Evla turned her head to face her. "And what would that be?" "If you could steal some more chocolate off the kids, I'd like that even better!" She grinned, feeling the supportive hand upon her shoulder yet again. Sometimes not even thoughts of Sal-Fina could ruin a good moment. |
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