*beats head into wall*

[quigonejinn]

Obi-Wan had never seen snow before they went to Indann. Fifteen thousand years of planet-wide industrialization and a current population of twelve billion inhabitants kept almost all parts of Corsucant well above freezing each year, but by that point, Obi-Wan was both practical and widely traveled enough that he didn't find anything particularly spectacular about fresh snowfall -- both the peaks of Alderaan and the electromagnetic fields at Shakka were, in his opinion, both aesthetically superior.

The fields at Shakka were also more renowned; the peaks were more praised in art, particularly off-planet, Republic-wide art. Obi-Wan remembered having read, in fact, several poems about one particular approach to a pass in the Northern.

"It is fairly late, Master, and cold. Why are all the children coming out of the houses?"

The two beds in their room had been turned towards the large window that looked down over the city; there were walls around the palace, but the grounds themselves were not expansive, and the rooms were high up enough so that they could look into the city and see the streets under snow.

Not so high, though, that they couldn't see figures moving on the street, or that the light from the city wasn't fairly bright in the room when the lights were turned off. And Obi-Wan didn't see any curtains -- he was going to have to sleep with a pillow over his head tonight, wasn't he? Two nights in a bumpy space transport, half a day fighting treacherous air currents down to the landing pad, another six hours sitting through state speeches and visitations and tours, all for a single, small child to take back to the Temple.

It really was rather dark in the room; the streets below were, in fact, alight with children holding looked like yellow globes dangling from their hands.

"Local mythology, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon yawned. "I believe the natives tell stories about a child-snatching witch, who lives in a flying house during the first snow of the year and tracks children back to their homes by their footprints in the snow. If the children trample the snow around the house, the witch will be confused and unable to the door."

Obi-Wan frowned. "The witch does not use windows?"

Qui-Gon made a noise that could have been laughter. "Apparently not. I suppose that it's more of an excuse for a festival than anything else, Obi-Wan. A time of family togetherness before the winter starts. I suspect that it is why the Margrave asked for another night with his child and why the Queen was kind enough to put us up in these accomodations."

There was a pause. Qui-Gon looked over at Obi-Wan, and even in the half-light from the city below, even with the distance between their beds, Obi-Wan could see that he was smiling a little. "Would you like to go out?"

"I am not a child."

It came out a little more stiffly than Obi-Wan intended, but Qui-Gon laughed, and Obi-Wan could tell that it was laughter. It wasn't very loud, not even in their quiet room with the lights off and the great window and the two beds lying next to each other, separated by an aisle.

"No, you are not. I suppose that you aren't. Not any longer." A pause, then quietly, with just a trace of laughter. "Good night, Padawan."