Chapter Text
It was not particularly unusual to see a cuddle pile of young Jedi initiates, thus no one had any reason to pay particular attention to the five younglings huddled together on what might be a bed. It was a little hard to tell what actually lay underneath the small beings and their pillows and blankets and stuffed animals and other miscellaneous items.
That said miscellaneous items included five training sabers nicked from somewhere a four-year-old had no place being, or a knife (or six) and blasters that did not belong within eighteen levels of this part of the crèche was beside the point.
“So, did we all die?” one small voice asked from somewhere within the mountain of pillows.
“Maybe?” came another voice.
“I remember dying,” came a third.
“What about you, Obi?” a fourth voice called out.
A small cry was all the sound that came from the fifth member of the cuddle pile.
“Obi is sad,” Bant said, stabbing a vegetable viciously. She knew the benefits of eating nutritious food, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.
“I’m sad too,” Quinlan added.
“Well what would make you happy?” Siri asked.
Quinlan paused for a moment. “I like it when Obi is happy.”
“So if we help Obi be happy then you’ll be happy too?”
Bant and Quinlan both considered Siri’s question before nodding in agreement.
“I’m technically the oldest now,” Obi-Wan said petulantly from his Garen-assigned seat. His seat that was not within range of any of the controls.
“No you’re not,” Garen replied. “I’m five and you’re four.”
“Am too,” Obi-Wan shot back. “I died a lot later so I’m older.”
“Doesn’t count.”
“Does too.”
“Does not.”
“Does too.”
Join the Council, they said. Important work to do, there is, one particular troll had said.
Mace rubbed his forehead. For once he couldn’t even blame his headache on a shatterpoint. That particular type of headache had caused him to be almost completely out of commission for over a week, and today was the first day he had been able to fully resume his duties.
Which apparently involved two missing initiates. And a missing ship.
Those two things were not connected.
They weren’t.
They had better not be.
They were.
“And you’re sure it was just the two of them?” Mace asked the padawan who had last seen the two younglings.
“I didn’t see anyone else,” the padawan replied.
“How do a five-year-old and a four-year-old manage to sneak out of the temple in a ship?” Mace muttered to himself.
“With the Force?” the padawan responded, clearly having heard Mace’s rhetorical question.
He sighed.
They probably should have thought that through a little better, but in their defense they did know how to fly, and Garen was happier than he had been at any point since they all woke up from being dead or whatever had happened. Obi-Wan was trying not to think about it too hard.
Garen’s obvious skill in flying and Obi-Wan’s assurances that he knew how to safely crash land ships if necessary did not prevent them from getting in trouble with their Crèchemaster. Or the other Crèchemasters. Or the Council.
Which, yes, they probably should have asked first. But they would do that next time. Obi-Wan didn’t understand why Mace looked so put out.
“You should have some tea,” Obi-Wan offered. “And a nap.”
Mace just gave him the most peculiar look.
“It will help you feel better,” Obi-Wan added.
“Thank you, Obi-Wan,” Mace offered finally. “Perhaps you could use a nap as well.”
Obi-Wan’s nose scrunched up at the prospect more as a matter of habit and possibly principle than actual distaste for the idea. There wasn’t anything pressing he had to do at the moment, and he was feeling rather tired…
Garen grimaced as Bant put some kind of stringy purple thing that was probably healthy on his plate.
“I can’t believe you two stole a ship,” she said.
Surely she was punishing him if that amount of healthy looking foods on his plate were anything to go by.
“And roped Obi into it too!”
“Hey, it was his idea!” Garen defended.
“But he’s the baby so it doesn’t count,” Bant stated authoritatively, adding yet another healthy thing on his plate. At least this one wasn’t stringy looking.
Mace’s meditation was interrupted by the sudden sounds of someone in distress. He hurriedly stood and looked towards the sound, soon finding a small child who looked to be experiencing a panic attack.
Carefully he kneeled down next to the child, projecting as much calm into the Force as he could.
No sooner had he placed a gentle hand on the boy’s back then he was met with an armful of shaking, sobbing youngling.
To his surprise he recognized the child as young Obi-Wan Kenobi who had just yesterday caused such a fuss. He had to admit the boy looked rather smaller at the moment than he had when attempting to explain the process of crash-landing ships.
Mace rubbed the boy’s back, sensing that a moment was needed before any questions would be at all welcome.
The shaking turned into slight tremors, and crying turned into sniffles, and Mace peered down at Obi-Wan’s face, silently asking if he would like to talk now.
Wiping his face on his sleeve Obi-Wan took a deep breath.
“I apologize, Master,” he said quite properly.
“You do not need to apologize, young one,” Mace said softly. “May I ask what prompted your distress?”
Obi-Wan sniffed again. “I saw someone and it reminded me of some bad things,” he replied.
“What sorts of things?” Mace pressed, wiping an errant tear off of Obi-Wan’s cheek.
“I don’t want him to fall again,” Obi-Wan whispered.
Mace felt a wave of cold wash over him, sensing this wasn’t about a tumble down some stairs, but as he was about to ask who Obi-Wan was referring to he felt the gentle tugging of the Force.
Not yet, it seemed to say.
And so Mace listened. Questioning could wait. For now he would offer comfort.
“Was it Xanatos?” Quinlan asked quietly as they all snuggled together that evening.
Obi-Wan nodded before tucking his head further into Quinlan’s side.
“We won’t let anything happen to you, Obi,” Bant promised, scooting closer towards Quinlan’s other side and draping an arm over in order to reach Obi-Wan’s hand.
“I won’t let anything happen to you either,” Obi-Wan promised back, squeezing her hand in return.
Siri gripped Obi-Wan’s arm a little tighter, Garen hmmed softly into Bant’s side, and they all settled in for a peaceful night of rest.