Burial.

[quigonejinn]

One of the few standard training exercises that Qui-Gon subscribed to and valued was repeated discussion of death and injury: he did not like to be argued with, nor did he enjoy extended philosophical inquiry, but he had no objections to cold, hard discipline. It was an exercise to conquer fear; he began at the prescribed age of nine and the exercises continued, growing in difficulty and clinicism, until he felt that Obi-Wan had achieved the proper attitude towards death.

"What do you imagine death to be like?"

Or.

"What are the proper procedures for my burial when I am dead?"

Assigned reading was not to be quoted. Obi-Wan usually had to fight the urge to quote and analyze, and the struggle showed on his face. If Qui-Gon was in a temper where he was tolerant of being amused, he would smile a little. If not, he would continue with that faint, slightly expectant expression.

Qui-Gon had Obi-Wan do the exercises once or twice a year, and once, when Obi-Wan was fifteen, Qui-Gon returned in a particularly vexed state from a Council meeting. He set himself to dissembling his lightsaber, meticulously cleaning the components down to the individual circuit boards, and re-assembling them under a magnifying lens with nano-tools. It had always been Qui-Gon's least favorite chore, and Obi-Wan was, in fact, surprised to see Qui-Gon going directly to it and with such concentration.

Finally, after an hour of this, Qui-Gon raised his head from the screen and spoke. "Obi-Wan," he said. "What should you do if I lived to a ripe old age and became senile, outliving my wits and usefulness?"

Obi-Wan looked up from his studies and stared. After some period, Qui-Gon smiled, faintly, and they went back to their respective tasks.

And that was all the comment Qui-Gon ever made about Dooku.

Comments

[randomalia.livejournal.com]

I love and adore your Star Wars writing. Endlessly. Very neat twist at the end. I also like to think that, sometimes, Obi-Wan thinks his master is completely nuts.

[quigonejinn.livejournal.com]

Let me tell you a story about the Jedi as they were: on a planet, far from the heart of the Republic, a being came into existence. After some period, the Jedi came and brought it to Corsucant. While it was young, it was given water enriched with the minerals of its home planet; the lighting in its quarters were matched to the wavelengths and periods of its home sun, but as the beeing grew stronger, it was able to dispense with these comforts. It learned and grew and stretched; it was first a Padawan, then a Knight, and finally a Master. The Force ran through it as strong as water, bright as the stars through space, and one day, a Senator came to the Temple.

His planet had been a member of the Republic for some period, but had only recently achieved the honor of being able to send a delegate to the Senate, and he was meeting with a few of the Council members to coordinate a relief mission to the mountain tribes. He had never been to the Temple before, and he only had the memories from his childhood, when his planet had joined the Republic. He remembered his father negotiating with the Trade Federation and the tall figures in brown who had been quiet, but caught the attention of all assembled when they spoke.

The Council was making him wait, though, and to pass the time stood, the Ambassador wandered along the corridor where he had been told to wait. It was along, narrow corridor, sparsely decorated. In fact, by the rich standards of his home planet, it was almost severe. The only orn was a door, cut into a plain-looking garden that featured low grass and a single tree. Nevertheless, many paused at the doorway and bowed.

The Ambassdor caught one with the hanging braid of a student. He had bowed particularly long and low. "Why do you bow when passing that garden? Does it hold the grave of a great Master?"

The student -- Padawans, they were called -- looked confused. "No, Senator. The Master is still very much alive. I believe he's awake this month, too, as far as he's ever really awake."

"The Master?"

The Padwan pointed.

And the ambassador followed the finger and found that the Padawan was pointing to the tree that stood alone in the center of the garden. It was not particularly large, nor was it particularly majestic. It appeared to be in good health, but to visitors who had seen, for example, the metal trees of Deeran or the wind roots of Abdale IV, it was not particularly impressive. The Padawan nevertheless folded his hands in front of him and bowed again, deeply, from the waist.

"The Master is the first of all its kind to be a Jedi," the Padawan said. "It has a name, but I don't know how it translates into sound. I believe it came to the Temple as a seed in the time of my master's master."

"But he -- it can't move. Or speak. He has no -- no hands for a lightsaber. How do you know his name?"

In return, the Padawan smiled slightly -- it was a strange expression on a face as young as that and a person so plainly dressed; it seemed to suggest, in the most polite way possible, that the Ambassador had completely missed the point -- and then bowed a third time, though this time to the Ambassador and held it just a fraction of a moment shorter than he had bowed to the tree. General apologies followed, for he must take his leave, being as that he was late for a lesson; the Padawan scurried away at great speed.

A few moments later, the Senator was shown into the Council chamber.

...

Some years later, when the Ambassador had passed to old age and the Padawan he met had grown and taken a Padawan and lost him on Mustafar, the Ambassador watched footage of the Temple burning. The flames reached as high as the highest spire; it ran through the hallways, and it was certainly enough to consume a tree, no matter how gifted or awake or bowed-to. Of all the ways to destroy the Temple -- letting it fall into ruin. Having it torn down by the troopers.

Fire.

The Temple was destroyed; there were to be no Jedi anywhere in the empire. Despite his jeweled robes and luxurious suite and honorable retirement, the Ambassador shivered.

OMG!

[randomalia.livejournal.com]

*EPIC FLAIL OF LOVE*

You had me all gleeful at the prospect of the Tree Master and the confused Ambassador but then, oh, sadness. That's the first time I've thought of the burning of the temple as vicious.

I love this so, so, so much. <3333333333333333333333333

the Tree Master fic

[a-blue-moon-cat.livejournal.com]

That was sad. Sad, but good.

[polgarawolf.livejournal.com]

That is bloody brilliant, by the way. It reminds me of the species that Master Tholme's, erhm, special friend, Master T'ra Saa, belongs to, and how utterly vicious Sidious is.

[quigonejinn.livejournal.com]

Judging by TPM, I'd say that Obi-Wan quite frequently thinks his master is completely and utterly nuts. And wrong. And some more nuts. Like Obi-Wan's expression, really, when he listens to Qui-Gon's little lecture about focusing on the present. XD

All of which is to say: I am sorry that I just spammed you with a story, but um, trees! Or something. I have been thinking about it all week, and it finally came together.

[neotoma.livejournal.com]

Oh, Qui-Gon being bitchy is always fun.

[quigonejinn.livejournal.com]

It really is. XD Almost as much fun as getting back into the hang of this fanfiction thing again.

[miss-rainfall.livejournal.com]

It was simply brilliant how you turned the whole thing around at the end.

[quigonejinn.livejournal.com]

Cheap, standard-issue quigonejinn ending, really: WHEN IN DOUBT ABOUT HOW TO END A FIC, THROW IN A REFERENCE TO THE JEDI'S MASTER :D

I'm glad you enjoyed it, though.

[imadra-blue.livejournal.com]

Beautiful. I love the connection at the end, and the bits of characterization. It was nice to read this little tidbit after such a long fic hiatus. ♥

[quigonejinn.livejournal.com]

:D It's good to be back, really. I see that the Turkey Break is getting you posting again, which I've missed enormously. :D

[imadra-blue.livejournal.com]

Turkey Break leads to great things! :D I've missed you, too! You and a few chosen others are 9283749875893415 times more interesting than the barely literate chimpanzees I normally have to deal with. ;)

[bant.livejournal.com]

I didn't expect that ending but it was brilliant. It brought the whole thing together.

[quigonejinn.livejournal.com]

Thanks! I was kind of flailing around for a point until I thought of it, so I'm glad it worked for you.

re: Burial

[a-blue-moon-cat.livejournal.com]

This is a fascinating look at a problem that is as old as the human race. Well-written. :) Btw, I once was deidrecorwyn, and we were mutual friends. I am now a_blue_moon_cat and when I applied the rename token, LJ went wonky on me and I lost all my mutual friends. I am still a friend of yours, but I will need you to please friend me back. Thanks in advance. :)

[polgarawolf.livejournal.com]

*Dies. Just dies laughing over the last line* I'm really coming to love these little slices of the shared Master-Padawan lives of Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan. I do wish you wouldn't label them as "retarded," for I find it a particularly telling vignette and quite insightful.