Before - Legends Tomorrow Can Wait - *New Post* 20th Nov: FINISHED AT LAST!!!

Whew! For a moment there I couldn't remember if I replied or not... It's been one of those couple of weeks. Can't remember what I've done or what I need to do.

But I do know that I would love another posty!

 

Valorum left the droids clearing up the inevitable debris from the party, happy in the knowledge that the event had been a considerable success. It had been exceedingly difficult to top the event he had staged last year, but with many of the senators holding their own versions of the much aped Coruscant Charity dinner dance he couldn't afford to be lax lest he be found wanting in comparison. Everything had gone really well, although Valorum hadn't thought much of the catering and he made a mental note never to award any further contracts to them. Stand up buffets and dancing never seemed to mix well in his opinion. Next year it would be a sitting down affair, if he could persuade Corrine it was for the best.

He'd been disappointed that Senator Lesell's wife hadn't made it to the dance. She was always a good conversationalist and witty in the extreme, enriching any such gathering with her superlative grace and humor.

Qui-Gon's girl hadn't turned up either, and for a reason he couldn't quite fathom that bothered him slightly. Maybe it was because he still felt so very guilty that the suffering felt by the temple and some of his own personal staff had been as a result of the Kaligari - HIS ship - crashing onto the moon of Urior. He recalled the impudent face of the ten year old girl he had first seen confined to a wheel chair, having escaped from the infirmary and then remembered the fresh faced youngster that had so enchanted him at the Ball last year.

Jinn had said she was ill. Maybe he should send her some flowers? Some gift to cheer her up, and salvage his own conscience in the process? Yes, that seemed like a perfect idea...he'd send one of his staff to see to it in the morning.

A small shadow stood by his shoulder, causing Valorum to turn round.

"Ah, Corrine." he smiled at his daughter. "That went well, I believe."

"Yes, I suppose it did." She shrugged as she surveyed the mess in the room, the cleaning droids flying back and forth to clear away the worst of the mess. "Most people went away with a very good impression."

"Most?" echoed the Chancellor. "And who exactly didn't have a good impression?"

"Oh, you know what people are like." Corrine stared down at the piece of cold and rubbery pizza, which had somehow managed to attach itself to the heel of her shoe. "Senator Rowli was making one or two uncomplimentary noises about the venue. Senator Urraxal moaned about the food because he has special dietary requirements. Senator Palpatine oozed charm and flattery one moment and declared the whole thing highly tedious with his next breath."

"Pay them no heed." Valorum placed a hand on his daughter's shoulder. "You did very well. I was proud to have you with me today. I wish the same could be said for your brother?"

"Don't let's start that again, father." Corrine begged him with tired eyes. "I just want to sleep now. It's too late to argue."

"Agreed." Valorum nodded sadly at her. "You see? With such natural diplomacy it is you who would have made the better politician!"

She scraped the heel of her shoe casually against the leg of the table in an effort to rid herself of the demon pizza wedge.

"You look a bit?" he tried to find the word. "Down. Is something the matter?"

"No." Corrine shook her head firmly. "Should it be?"

"I was reliably informed that you were having a good time dancing with a young man whilst I was talking to Senator Rowli." He peered into her eyes and caught the sadness that lay therein. "So why the long face?"

"I got stood up." Corrine looked away, annoyed. "I didn't even get to ask his name. I told him to wait for me whilst I went to powder my nose. When I come back - he's gone! My night sort of took a dip after that."

"If he can stand up a girl as beautiful as you he's probably not worth knowing." Valorum smiled fondly. "Put him from your mind. You're mature enough to bounce back from a slight of this fashion."

"I am, yes." Corrine agreed readily. "It was just?off-putting, I suppose. And what about you?" she swiftly turned the tables on her father i

 

Noooooooooo! I shall hear no cunning plans from you 'Dirty Old Man' Valorum. Now stay away!

Uh-oh...You know something is wrong when Obi has no appetite. Never thought I'd see the day... Skip the shower Qui-Gon! Head over and try and talk to Jemmiah now, no matter how weird your hair may stick up.

Wonderful Jem!

 

*Snrk* hehehehe Valorum thinking about Jemmy? *Snrk* that's juz hilarious hehehe

Poor Obi... he's worried about her as well as Qui. Good luck finding her Qui!

Great chappie!

 

Since it's 2 am and I really can't say anything intelligent, I'll just say that it was beautifull written, Jem!

 

De-lurking to ask for more!

 

Qui-Gon was used to battles and clashes of will with Jemmiah and had been almost from the start, usually as a result of two determined and stubborn minds refusing to back down on matters of personal importance. This morning was no different.

After his shower the master had quickly contacted Leona to enquire about the funeral arrangements before setting off to the floor above where Jemmiah's apartment was located. In some ways speaking to her here was advantageous because this way his padawan would not be lurking around in the background. Qui-Gon personally felt that the girl could use a serious good cry and there was no way she would allow herself to cry infront of Obi-Wan. To be honest he didn't hold out much hope of her crying at all.

When he'd got there he'd stood with the door facing him, pressing the chime repeatedly but without receiving any answer. Qui-Gon knew she was in there, he could sense movement from the living area. Again he rang and again he wasn't acknowledged. It was then that he realized she wasn't likely to let anyone speak to her at all and that her pleas to stall the planned discussion from last night had merely been a ruse on her part to buy some time. Well, Qui-Gon reflected bitterly, two could play at that.

He remained standing there for the next forty minutes, pressing the door chime on and off. He was just as capable of digging his heels in as she was and he'd had more years of practise at it too. Jemmiah possessed a very short fuse temperamentally speaking and it was the master's hope that she would eventually get so fed up with the constant ringing she would be forced to answer the door just to give her ears a rest.

As a further five minutes passed Qui-Gon wondered which was more likely to give out: his finger, the door chime or Jemmiah's sanity. Her obstinacy surprised even him. He was beginning to fear he'd underestimated her when the door suddenly slid back, leaving him staring into the closed yet thunderous face of the Corellian girl.

"Your door chime appears to have picked up a fault." Qui-Gon said sweetly. "Can I come in?"

"I'm busy." Jemmy said balefully.

"With what?"

"Clearing up the stain that you wouldn't let me tackle last night." She replied in a tart voice. "Although why I am bothering I don't know. It's as good as permanent now." She watched the unruffled, patient expression on Qui-Gon's face spread, her hopes of annoying him into leaving obviously not working at all. He just knew her too darned well. "Come in then, if you're wanting to." She muttered, stepping back and letting the master inside.

Qui-Gon looked about him. The room was exactly the same as he remembered it except for the large box of opened chocolates lying on the carpet and the bottle on its side not too far away. Jemmiah went back to kneeling on the floor beside a bucket, which seemed to contain some kind of stain removal agent - which by the look of it wasn't working particularly well. The patch the girl had been scrubbing was damp and the vague pink stain still visible even inspite of all the rubbing and mopping Jemmiah had done.

"See?" Jemmy pointed at it. "Now what do I do?"

"I suggest you start by actually finishing off the conversation we were having last night. The one you sneaked away to avoid."

"That's not true!" Jemmy snapped at him. "If that was the case then why did I open the door?"

"Because you got sick of hearing me ringing!" answered Qui-Gon. "Now will you please have the decency to actually look as if you are listening to me?"

Jemmiah huffed audibly and threw the cloth into the soapy bucket in disgust, turning round to face him.

"Thank you." Qui-Gon lowered his voice. "There's a lot I have to say but I think I should start by mentioning the arrangements for the funeral tomorrow."

He watched her eyes shoot wide open in shock.

"So soon?" Jemmy wondered. "That's a bit quick, isn't it? Sheesh, it's a wonder they actually allow you to die before they get rid of you!"

"Jemmiah," Qui-Gon continued gently, "I spoke with Leona and the healers have re

 

Great chappie! Poor Jemmy... Qui is only trying to help, at least she realizes he is..

How sad that she was thinking of Qui as old... poor thing has some major soul searching that needs to be done.

 

Jedi, Jedi, Jedi! It's always about the Jedi. I can understand that it is all Qui-Gon knows, but he has to realize that not everyone mourns the same way. It just gets me that he strong arms Jemmy to go to the funeral without listening to her reasons why she doesn't want to go and see Evla that way.

Poor Jemmy... She's really having a hard time with everything right now. Something that hit me was the fact that she doesn't like herself, and you really don't want to do anything nice for those you don't like. What's that mean for Jemmiah??

Outstanding Jem!

 

Ah, yes, that was very, very gut-wrenching for a few reasons.

 

Awww.... Beautifully written, Jem!

 

Tomorrow may be able to wait, but it's not very patient!

More please!

 

Amen!

 

Oh, alright then...seeing as you all asked so nicely

********

Obi-Wan had spent the rest of the morning wondering if he should go round and speak to his girlfriend or whether she would much rather be left to her own devices. Certainly if the past was any indicator he felt positive that Jemmiah would much prefer to be by herself, left to deal with her hurt the only way she knew how. It was a difficult choice to make because one suggested complete lack of support whilst the other indicated a wish to stifle and interfere. Obi-Wan wanted neither but could see no middle ground at all that would be acceptable to Jemmiah and so, very reluctantly, he opted to give her the space that she needed.

He wouldn't know what to say to her anyhow. He wasn't very good at that sort of thing and lacked the tact and the natural empathy that his master seemed to poses on occasions such as these. He'd often wanted to be more like his master - well, today was one such day. She didn't need 'Ben': she needed 'Qui-Gon'.

Curiously enough the realisation hurt him.

Obi-Wan detested feeling useless but that was exactly the way he was right now. His own sorrow over Evla's death had to take a back seat. There was simply no time to regret the passing of one of the most caring and loving people it had ever been his privilege to know in his short life to date. He would mourn with the others at the funeral tomorrow and release his grief to the force.

He worried about the affect the funeral would have on Jemmy. Death and suffering were almost a taboo subject as far as she was concerned. There were too many bad memories lurking beneath the surface that Obi-Wan felt might be better off remaining hidden and not raked up at that point in time, yet Qui-Gon seemed determined to make her face up to her grief. Too many things had happened recently and Obi-Wan didn't think that Jemmiah was ready to deal with anything right now.

The evening. He would visit her in the evening to see how she fared and talk if she wanted to (not that she ever would).

Qui-Gon broke in on his thoughts.

"That test?" He ventured.

"Master?" Obi-Wan's unease and surprise mingled together and became totally seamless. Surely he wouldn't insist that today of all days he should sit some kind of examination?

"I think it would be better for everyone concerned if it were postponed for the moment. If that is acceptable to yourself?"

"Yes, master." Obi-Wan bowed his head.

"Now," Qui-Gon continued in a low voice, "I think it might also be for the best if we were to give Jemmiah some space right now. I know that will be difficult for you and of course you want to offer her some support - which is only quite natural - but I think she needs to be by herself for a bit."

"Yes, master." Obi-Wan agreed. He'd already decided on that course of action but there was no need to tell Qui-Gon that.

"I'm impressed with your restraint." Jinn admitted with a small approving nod of the head. "It's difficult not to step in too much but there's a difficult line to tread between being supportive and interfering."

//And I have already crossed it today.// Qui-Gon admitted to himself.

Obi-Wan stared at him with his stormy eyes changing slightly from their tranquil blue to almost grey. There was a lot he wanted to ask Qui-Gon but didn't want to upset him further. Evla had been his friend too. A long time ago she had been something more. He would be grieving in his own way and Obi-Wan did not seek to cause anymore sadness than already existed.

"Master, why didn't Evla tell Jemmy she was going to die?" he asked finally.

Qui-Gon sat down in the chair opposite, running a hand through his hair as he thought about the reply he would give. Did he really understand Evla's motives? Had he ever really done so? He had urged her to be honest with Jemmiah but she hadn't been able to.

"The only person who knows?" he stopped for a moment to amend his statement. "?Knew the truth behind that decision was Evla." Qui-Gon sighed wistfully, recalling their many conversations on the s

 

::Shudder.:: Drowning her sorrows in muja fruit, she really has hit a low point. Poor girl. I loved Qui-Gon being so worried about crossing the line, how obi's restraining himself, love the line "how can you lose a wookiee?" to death.

 

Poor Qui at having to tell Obi to stay away from Jemmy for a bit. Poor guy...I feel for Obi too.

Now Jemmy... drinking ain't gonna solve things, regardless

Great chappie.

 

At least Obi's leaving Jemmy alone for the moment, but is that a good thing or bad? Jemmy, you won't get any help if you don't tell anyone what's wrong. At least with Rela you would get a 'normal' person's perspective on how to deal with things and not a Jedi's.

Fabulous post Jem!

And I'm sure losing a wookiee is a lot easier than one would think.

 

Awww....

Lovely little chapter, Jem! It just keeps making me sadder and sadder.

 

Jemmy needs to tell people what's wrong.

*stumbles in* Sorry I'm late Master.

Wonderful story. I am loving every word, even though I have a little to catch up on.

 

Four hours. Rela had spent four whole hours talking to Jemmy about a whole load of nothing. When they had simply run out of things to say Jemmy had made her farewells and left the cantina.

//Something's wrong.// Rela opined silently. //You don't have to be a contestant on 'Brain of Coruscant' to get that! She spends hours hanging around in a cantina even though she can't drink. Come to think of it, so do I - but I have an excuse in that I work here! Then she spends all her time idly chatting about anything that comes into her mind: swoop racing?galactic history?the latest senatorial scandal?the weather - come on! There's something she's trying not to mention. She tried to engineer the entire conversation so she could pick the topics.

Maybe she has had a fight with Qui-Gon. I mean if she had would she honestly tell me?

Actually, I think she would. Maybe Obi has upset her. It does seem the likeliest thing if past history is anything to judge by. Yeah, that'll be it. And she does have a point: monstermouth Kenobi does have a habit of putting his foot in it every now and again. It would be just like him to go on and on at her, trying to ask her personal stuff. Jemmy's quite right: she isn't obliged to tell him a thing. I've got stuff in my own past I don't exactly want to advertise or have lengthy conversations about so why should she?

Next time I see him I'll maybe give him a bit of helpful advice and tell him to back off a little.//

The doors opened to admit two people: one an old man with a shock of white hair and a distinct limp to his walk and the other a much younger figure altogether, and one very familiar to Rela Quinn.

"Talk of the devil?" Muttered Rela, dark eyes not so much as wavering from the padawan's face as he approached the bar, looking anxiously from left to right. "Jemmy was right after all. He can't keep away from her!"

Obi-Wan walked over to the same stool that Jemmiah had been sitting on only some ten minutes earlier and seated himself upon it, leaning his arms across the bar surface. The expression on his face seemed to denote anxiety, and Rela got the impression she wasn't going to care for the news he was about to impart one little bit.

"Have you seen Jemmiah at all?" he fixed her with a firm stare.

"What makes you think I'd have seen her?" Rela asked in an off-hand manner. "Can I get you a drink?"

"Muja fruit cocktail." Obi-Wan mumbled, looking distinctly unhappy with his lot in life. Rela wasn't a stranger to miserable faces inside the cantina. Many people came in to drown their sorrows in the rim of an ale glass, but the fact that both Jemmiah and Obi-Wan had chosen to do the same made Rela more than suspicious.

"Muja, huh? Must be the day for it." Rela went to the mini refrigeration unit that stood behind the bar and opened the door, searching for the various ingredients that went into the drink. "You know, I think we might just be fresh out of Muja's. Sure you don't want something stronger? I'm paying."

"I thought you were against drinking." Obi-Wan frowned.
"I'm against MYSELF drinking. I'm not against YOU drinking. Just coz I can't doesn't mean I don't take pleasure from seeing people leaving with sclerotic livers. On top of which I work behind a bar. I'm meant to encourage people to drink."

"Not when you offer to pay." Obi-Wan raised a countering eyebrow.

"Have a flameout." Rela offered. "Then tell me all your troubles."

"Who says I have troubles?" Obi-Wan asked guardedly.

"You wouldn't be here at this time of day if you didn't." Rela answered a touch smugly. "Come on, what is it that's troubling you?"

Obi-Wan fingered his thin, ropy padawan braid for a moment.

"I've spent most of the afternoon looking for Jemmiah. Trawled round the whole temple - at least that's how it feels to my legs." He sighed, feeling his aching muscles protesting at the thought. Fit as he was the jedi temple was an extremely big place. "Then I went to the entrance only to be told that she'd left and caught an air cab into the city. Well, the only reason she would

 

You're making me really really depressed, Jemmy! Glad Rela's the voice of reason around there.