The evening breeze wafted past Qui-Gon as he strolled along at a leisurely pace, skirting the edges of one of the many meditation gardens on the Jedi Temple grounds; the breeze cooled his face, but he was burning inside from the flames of love in his heart--and the antipation of seeing his beloved.
Clutching the bouquet of flowers even tighter, he raised them, breathing in their delicate scent--a pleasing scent, pastel colors just as she liked. She was sure to be pleased by his gift!
Closer...Closer...It wouldn’t long now until he reached her door...
His long legs began to move faster of their own accord, and he felt his breathing accelerate despite his best efforts to remain calm; his padawan braid slapped against his chest as his footsteps sounded sharply on the pavement--
And then he saw it, saw her residence--AND saw the other Padawan standing outside, waiting.
“What are YOU doing here?” His voice, having finally completed its change, has settled into a low register which he could easily turn into a growl as he did now.
Iain--fellow Padawan learner and *former* friend, he thought with no little annoyance--drew himself up to his full height, but still Qui-Gon towered over him. That Qui-Gon was mostly coltish arms and legs he was still trying to learn to control didn’t stop him from being imposing to the smaller, slighter boy, who happened to be two years younger and not possessed of his full growth yet.
Defiant brown eyes met outraged blue as the two young Jedi squared off. Iain clutched the bouquet HE had brought like a shield in front of him. Qui-Gon noted scornfully that it was full of bright, garish colors. HIS was MUCH better.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Iain retorted.
How original, Qui-Gon snorted silently. “Well, I’m asking you first,” he snapped, glaring down at his friend since childhood. “What do you think you’re doing here?”
“I think I’m here to ask Tanara to attend the Mid-summer’s celebration with me,” Iain replied with admirable haughty dignity, a move lessened when he brought the flowers up to sniff at them in a move designed to show he was ignoring Qui-Gon but only served to make him start sneezing violently instead.
Qui-Gon obligingly pounded him on the back--hard--to help ease his sneezing fit, but Iain backed away, glaring at him.
“Don’t tell me you’re here for the same reason,” he wheezed, peering at Qui-Gon through watery, red-rimmed and very suspicious eyes.
“Of course I am!” he exclaimed. “You know how I feel about Tanara! I haven’t made any secret of it, you traitor!”
“I saw her first, you back-stabbing mutineer! You’re just trying to take her away from me!”
“I never!”
“Liar!”
“Cheater!”
“Cad!”
“Bounder!”
Thrown words turned into thrown fists, and it wasn’t long until the boys were rolling in the dust, thrashing at each other and completely crushing their respective bouquets in the melee.
“Boys...”
“Take it back, you cold-hearted thief!”
“Boys!”
“Never, you traitorous villain!”
“BOYS!”
A shrill, piercing whistle cut through their mutual jealous haze and brought their scuffle to a halt; they lay tangled on the ground, both with fists poised to strike, both completely disheveled and unkempt.
Tanara stared down at them, smiling slightly and shaking her head, and they immediately began to scramble to their feet, jostling each other in an attempt to reach her first.
“Get your bloody great foot out of face, you oaf!”
“Quit pulling my braid, you cut-throat!”
“I never!”
“You did!”
Finally they untangled from each other and ran over to stand before her, sheepish, but still throwing warning glares at each other.
“This is touching,” Tanara said, unable to hide the amusement in her voice. “Or something. Really, it is, but there’s no point.”
“What?” Qui-Gon ceased elbowing Iain long enough to gaze at her, wide-eyed.
“No point?” Iain echoed, leaving off kicking Qui-Gon’s ankle to pay attention.
“That’s what I said,” she replied mildly. “I can guess why you’re here--the Mid-summer celebration, yes? Well, I’ve already got a date.”
“Already got a date?!” Qui-Gon and Iain chorused in perfect unison, first trading looks of pure disbelief with each other and then turning them on her.
“With who?” Iain demanded, bracing his fists on his hips.
Just then, another figure sauntered into view and draped a possessive arm across Tanara’s shoulders; she giggled and smiled dreamily up at--Mace Windu.
“Sorry, boys, but I’m going with Mace,” she said.
Mace said nothing, merely bestowed a triumphant smirk on both of his friends before strolling away with Tamara, leaving the valiant warriors on a field of utter defeat.
Qui-Gon felt his lower jaw fall open, and he closed it with an abrupt snap and shook his head.
“I can’t believe it...I can’t believe it...” Iain grumbled. “She turned us down--for HIM!”
“Some guys get all the luck,” Qui-Gon muttered.
“We’ll see how bloody lucky he thinks he is when he comes home to find his bed full of sand worms.” Iain’s lips curved in a wicked smile, and Qui-Gon answered it with one of his own.
“My friend, I do like the way you think.” He clapped Iain on the shoulder and grinned broadly. “How’s this--I’ve got a bottle of wine in my room. We can share it while we figure out what else to do to Mace.”
“Brilliant!” Iain chuckled, then punched Qui-Gon affectionately on the arm. “C’mon, let’s go get drunk.”
“And then plot how to ruin Mace’s life.”
“But of course! That’s what friends are for...”
Return to Archive List