DISCLAIMER: I do not own Qui-Gon Jinn, Obi-Wan Kenobi, or any of the other familiar Star Wars characters. They all belong to George Lucas and Jude Watson. If they did belong to me, I'd make sure there were at least ten more books in the JA Series, but alas, they don't.

TITLE: Light of a Single Candle

AUTHOR: Sentimental Star

SUMMARY: It's time for the Winter Festival on Coruscant. Everywhere there is happiness and holiday spirit…or is there? A scant few months after Jedi Master Tahl's death, sixteen-year-old Jedi Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi is wondering that exact same thing…

SERIES: No

SPOILERS: Yes, for JA #15 and JA #16.

CATEGORY: Drama/Angst, H/C, NON-SLASH

TIME PERIOD: 9 years Pre-TPM, somewhat AU

RATING: G-PG

FEEDBACK: Yes, please! E-mail me or R&R!

ARCHIVES: Jedi Council Forums, JAFD, all others please e-mail me!

A/N: This one's for Christmas! There is a father/son relationship between Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, but even if you don't like that sort of thing, please read this fic anyway. And, of course, please R&R!

/thoughts/

/telepathy/

.:Light of a Single Candle:.

Cold. That was his first sensation as he woke up on the morning of the first day of the Winter Festival on Coruscant. The quarters he shared with his Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant were all but freezing, or at least his room was. Shivering in his too thin tunic, sixteen-year-old Jedi Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, slowly sat up. He kept the heavy blanket he had acquired sometime during the night around his shoulders as he swung his legs over the side of his bed and gazed out the window.

It was snowing. A wall of sheer white occupied the space normally reserved for transports.

Excitement rose in Obi-Wan's heart. It had been years since Coruscant had last gotten a decent snowfall. He was probably too old for that sort of thing, but at the moment he was too thrilled to care. Maybe he would be able to go out later if it slowed down a bit. He hoped Qui-Gon would go with him.

The thought of his fully grown Master playing in the snow made Obi-Wan smile. Speaking of which…Qui-Gon should be awake by now.

Hurriedly, he got off his bed and put on a set of fresh clothes, finally slipping on the boots he usually wore around their quarters and the Temple. As of late, Qui-Gon had been more cheerful—no longer burdened by Jedi Master Tahl's death of several months before—but that still did not stop Obi-Wan from worrying about the man who, for all intents and purposes, was his father. The month or so after Tahl's death had been the worst. It had taken two harrowing missions and Obi-Wan nearly losing his life for his master to make Qui-Gon see that he was not alone and that Tahl would not want him to be alone. Since then, the Jedi Master had improved considerably, but Obi-Wan was still concerned and wary about this year's Winter Festival. Qui-Gon, shortly after the mission during which Obi-Wan had almost died, had told him (through bittersweet tears) about all the insane havoc he, Mace Windu, and Tahl had wreaked during this particular festival when they were Padawans themselves. The young Jedi only hoped that, being this was the first holiday after Tahl's death, Qui-Gon wouldn't take it too hard.

When Obi-Wan entered the main area of their quarters, he was both surprised and worried to find that he was the only one there. /Surely he hasn't gone out in this weather/ the Jedi Padawan thought frantically, wildly glancing around their quarters, he searched for anything—a datapad or even a simple note scribbled onto flimsy—that would let him know where his Master was. After a few intense moments he spotted the small datapad lying on the kitchen table and his heartbeat returned to normal.

Rubbing his face with hands that still shook slightly, Obi-Wan thought/I've been worrying way too much lately./

Walking quickly into the kitchen, the boy picked up the datapad and read it. His mouth went dry and his stomach dropped as he did so:

OBI-WAN (it read),

I'LL BE BACK BY, AT THE LATEST, 8:00 AM, I PROMISE. I HAVE A FEW ERRANDS TO RUN OUTSIDE THE TEMPLE BEFORE I RETURN AND THEN WE'LL SEE ABOUT CELEBRATING WINTER FESTIVAL.

LOVE, YOUR MASTER, QUI-GON

So he had gone out in the blizzard. /When he returns, I'm going to kill him for scaring me like this/ Obi-Wan thought, hugging the datapad to his chest. /Wonder how soon that is/

The Jedi Padawan glanced up at the chrono mounted on their kitchen wall . . . and immediately forgot about killing his Master. The device read nine o'clock am. In his message, the older Jedi had promised to be back by, at the very latest, eight o'clock am, and Qui-Gon Jinn was never one to break his word. That is, unless something drastic happened.

Slumping into a chair at the kitchen table, Obi-Wan buried his face in his hands as sudden tremors wracked his body. /Force, what's wrong with me/ he wondered. /Now is not the time to panic. He was probably just delayed by the storm./

But an hour?

Not thinking very coherently, Obi-Wan stumbled to his feet and in four long strides, crossed the floor of the main living area to the communications console, half-praying, half-hoping his Master had left a message. Nothing, not a blinking red light, nothing.

Obi-Wan took a shaky breath as he attempted to rein in his nerves. /Okay, there's a simple way to do this I just have to . . . of course! The bond! Why didn't I think of it before/

/Master/ he called hopefully through their bond.

No response, not even a trickle of reassurance could he feel. /Please no/ Obi-Wan thought. /MASTER/ His roiling emotions prevented him from probing any deeper. /All right, I have to calm down and think clearly, then I'll do it again/ he coached himself, attempting to slow his rapidly beating heart.

Taking another shaky breath, the Jedi Padawan dropped into a meditative pose right then and there, settling into a light trance.

For what seemed like an agonizingly long time, Obi-Wan simply knelt there, trying to calm his raging emotions and listen to the Force. After what must have been at least an hour, a Force signature crept into Obi-Wan's consciousness accompanied by an intense feeling of home…a Force signature he would recognize anywhere.

His vivid blue eyes snapped open at the same instant the door to their quarters did. With a soft, wordless cry of joy and relief, he jumped to his feet and rushed to the entrance. Obi-Wan launched himself at a very surprised Qui-Gon, exclaiming, "Master!" A few errant tears escaped down his cheeks.

The Jedi Master quickly placed the packages he'd been carrying on a nearby coffee table, keeping one arm around his trembling student, before fully encircling Obi-Wan with both his arms. "Padawan?" he questioned, voice laced thickly with concern and care for the teenager.

"What were you thinking, going out in a storm like this?" Obi-Wan tearfully demanded. "You know how dangerous that can be!" But still, he clung to him, shaking with an odd mixture of relief, joy, and anger.

Strangely touched by Obi-Wan's outburst, Qui-Gon gently wiped away the tears spilling from his beloved apprentice's blazing eyes. "I know," he murmured, "but it was important. I'm sorry I wasn't back earlier, but the storm delayed the air taxi from the Rinian Embassy. I tried to contact you, but--"

Obi-Wan buried his face in the folds of the Jedi Master's tunic. Shaking his head against Qui-Gon's chest, the young man interrupted, mumbling, "I couldn't feel you, Master, I couldn't. I was so frightened."

Qui-Gon fiercely hugged the boy, the boy whom he had nearly lost forever . . .

At that thought, his embrace tightened.

(Flashback, Four Months)

They wouldn't let him stay with Obi-Wan. For all he begged, pleaded, demanded, and threatened, they countered with wills of transparisteel. At last he had settled to waiting, refusing to move from where he sat.

The doctors were in the emergency med-ward for a long time. But to Qui-Gon, that was irrelevant. All that mattered was the young man who was the brightness, the very heart of his existence, and who currently lay behind those doors fighting for every breath.

Over and over the horrifying scene played through his mind: Obi-Wan jumping in front of him, taking the blaster bolt full in the chest, even as he'd kept his wounded, empty gaze on Balog—Tahl's killer—not caring if he lived or died, welcoming death.

He hadn't been thinking about the implications; he hadn't been thinking about the present and the future, hadn't been thinking about Obi-Wan. But Obi-Wan had been thinking about Qui-Gon, and it cost him dearly.

Tears were flooding down Qui-Gon's cheeks unchecked. Somehow, he vowed, he would make up for all his mistakes, everything he'd inflicted on his young apprentice during these last several missions. No longer would he allow the darkness to overwhelm him. It had nearly cost him his Padawan and that was a sacrifice he was unwilling to make.

(End Flashback)

/Master/ his apprentice's quiet mind voice sliced into his thoughts and brought him back to the present. The boy was gazing at him with a mixture of regret and relief, looking up at his Master through gradually slowing and drying tears.

/Yes, Padawan/ he questioned softly, blinking away his own tears, ones which had risen in his eyes. If Obi-Wan had seen them, the young Jedi did not mention it.

/Are you all right/ came the worried inquiry.

Suddenly, Qui-Gon noticed the guilt traversing their bond and in Obi-Wan's vivid blue eyes.

So he had noticed the tears and apparently, had received the memory.

/I should be asking you that/ Qui-Gon retorted lightly.

/Master, I'm serious. Are you okay/ Obi-Wan countered sternly. Come to think of it…the young man had been asking that a lot as of late.

Qui-Gon gave a quiet sigh. /Aren't I supposed to be the worrier around here/ He grinned warmly at his student. /But to answer your question—I assure you, heart's own, I'm much better than okay./

Obi-Wan blushed lightly at his Master's term of endearment and rested his head against the big man's chest. Releasing a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, the young Jedi Padawan finally allowed himself to relax. /I should kill you, you know./

/And why's that/

/Because you scared me half to death when I discovered you weren't in our quarters or even in the Temple/

Another warm, amused grin found its way to his countenance. /You're precious, Obi-Wan./

oOoOoOoOoOo

Obi-Wan sat silently on a thick tree branch in one of the Jedi Temple's many gardens, watching from a distance as various Master-Padawan pairs trampled through the newly fallen snow. Everywhere he could see other Jedi teams wrestling, tossing snowballs, and simply having fun. His legs were tucked close to his chest and his arms were wrapped around them, on top of his knees rested his chin, and on his face he wore a thoughtful, contemplative expression.

Qui-Gon was busy elsewhere for a little while, probably with the Council, and had told Obi-Wan to wait for him in the gardens. The Jedi Master had hoped he would get some time to spend with his friends and Obi-Wan knew this. The young Jedi Padawan had indeed gone to the gardens, but he did not feel particularly up to interacting with the other apprentices today, especially since they looked like they were having a very good time with their Masters. It did not seem right that he interfere.

The sixteen-year-old smiled slightly as he saw Bant Eerin, his best friend, throw a snowball at her new Master—Mace Windu. He watched as it caught the darker Master in the face. He could not be sure from this distance, but it looked as if Bant was giggling. His smile broadened as he watched Master Mace lunge, grab her in his arms, and toss her onto his shoulder. Shrieks of laughter from the fifteen-year-old Mon Calamari girl reached him faintly where he sat on his branch.

By the Force, was he ever glad to hear it!

Tahl had been Bant's first Master and, like Qui-Gon, it had taken her a while to get over that loss. This holiday would probably be difficult for Bant and Obi-Wan was exceedingly grateful that she had Master Windu with her.

He could only hope that he was half so effective in helping Qui-Gon.

"Hey, thinker, are you planning to stay up there for the rest of Winter Festival?" his Master's light teasing penetrated his thoughts and brought his attention back to the present.

Looking directly into his Master's sparkling eyes, Obi-Wan caught his breath in sharply. There was such love, warmth, and joy in that midnight blue! No longer did any shadows darken it.

Qui-Gon grinned at the younger Jedi's apparent incapability of speech. "Well?"

Finding his tongue, Obi-Wan smiled and teased, "Of course, Master. Why ever not? There's such a pleasant view from here."

The Jedi Master laughed outright before reaching up and lightly tousling his apprentice's head. However, all at once, he grew serious. "No one should be alone during Winter Festival," he murmured, smiling gently at his dearest apprentice. Reaching up for the boy, he ordered softly, "Come here, my young one."

Obi-Wan blushed. /Master/ he protested silently over their bond/I ican/i do this myself./

Qui-Gon's eyes were still twinkling as he folded his arms in his robe's sleeves. /And your point is…/ He shut his eyes momentarily and tapped into the Force.

Feeling his mentor do so, Obi-Wan asked warily/Master? What exactly are you doing/

The young Jedi's answer was a Force-shove off the branch.

/Master/ Obi-Wan cried in shock, arms flailing.

Seconds later, he felt another pair of arms wrap around him as his teacher broke his fall.

Obi-Wan's vivid blue eyes glittered as he raised them to Qui-Gon's dancing ones upon being set down by his Master on the ground. "That's it! Now I really am going to kill you!"

In saying so, he promptly tackled his teacher and Qui-Gon, laughing, toppled backwards into the soft snow.

Fifteen minutes of playful wrestling, tackling, chasing, and snowballing passed before the Master-Padawan pair was startled by the delightedly smug cackle of a small green troll:

"Told you, I did! Told you, I did!"

/Master Yoda/ the two thought simultaneously.

The now thoroughly damp pair more or less sat up, breathing somewhat heavily but as yet unable to conceal their bright eyes and contented smiles. The venerable Jedi Master in front of them was just as, if not more, happy.

"Claimed you did that meant to be the boy's Master you were not, my old Padawan, but told you I did that the Force willed it. Thought you could fight the Force, Master Qui-Gon, hmm?" Yoda pointed his grimer stick at the amused younger Master.

"Yes, my Master," Qui-Gon replied serenely, in spite of his bedraggled appearance.

Obi-Wan chuckled slightly, biting his lip to contain the rest of his mirth.

"Not so easy is it, young Padawan? Thought I taught you that I did," Yoda continued, lightly whacking the bigger Master's shin with the cane.

A few more chuckles escaped from Obi-Wan.

"Yes, Master, you were right." Qui-Gon smiled warmly at his former teacher and then glanced so fondly at Obi-Wan that the boy bashfully dropped his eyes, cheeks bright red. "And a certain, stubborn young man reminded me just how right."

The teen was very much startled when he felt an arm slip around his waist and draw him gently against Qui-Gon, although he knew he really shouldn't be.

Master Yoda leaned on his walking stick, taking in the pair before him with much warmth and complete approval. He would never admit it openly, but of all the Masters and Padawans in the Temple, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were among his favorites—even if they could be just a little exasperating at times.

"Good for each other, you are," he remarked softly, "Need each other, you do. Padawan Kenobi," here he shifted slightly to look at the boy, "gratitude I must express. Long overdue it is."

Obi-Wan felt himself blushing all over again. "Sir?" he questioned, flustered.

Yoda smile again. "Something many thought impossible you did, young Obi-Wan. Not once, but twice. Miracles they were. Teach a man whose heart had been shattered one time too many, to love again you did. Give a man whose happiness had been lost, joy again you did. Show a man whose laughter and smile had disappeared, how to joke again you did." His voice quieted as he allowed his emotions to truly surface. "Restore a man whose soul had been broken, to what he once was you did. And remake a Padawan I had thought gone, you did. For this, thank you enough I cannot." Yoda hobbled closer to a very much touched and speechless pair. Placing his small claw first on Obi-Wan's head, then on Qui-Gon's, he murmured, "Force be with you, my students." And with that, the ancient Jedi Master hobbled away.

Not a word passed between the two he had left behind for a few minutes. Finally, dropping a tender kiss on his apprentice's forehead, Qui-Gon remarked in a voice thick with emotion, "Come, Padawan, let's go home."

Obi-Wan managed nothing more than a quiet acquiesce, "Yes, Master," and allowed his teacher to pull him up and lead him back to their quarters.

The journey to the upper levels was silent, but oddly comfortable. Both Master and Apprentice were lost in their own thoughts. It seemed like no time at all had passed when they reached the door to their apartment.

Absently, still caught up in his whirling thoughts, Qui-Gon hit the release button and the door slid open smoothly with a whoosh.

A sharp intake of breath from his Padawan drew his attention quickly back to the here and now.

At first startled, he glanced down at Obi-Wan. The boy's face was aglow with delighted surprise. Now bemused, Qui-Gon tracked his apprentice's gaze…and grinned.

Inside their relatively small quarters, there were lighted candles everywhere: on shelves, on the tables, in the kitchen, everywhere—except the windows. They cast a gentle, warm glow across the apartment, even the darkest crevices seemed friendly.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes a minute and basked in the warmth their quarters radiated.

He only opened his vivid blue eyes when he felt Qui-Gon's large hand settle lightly on his shoulder and the man gently guided him into the apartment. Obi-Wan looked up into his Master's face and grinned both in thanks and relief. Close call it had not been, but the worry and the fear he'd experienced once he learned that Qui-Gon had gone out into the storm, and when he realized he could neither feel nor contact the older Jedi through their bond, had been real. Very real. More than he cared to admit.

Sensing his young apprentice's line of thought, Qui-Gon rested his large hand on the nape of the boy's neck and gently rubbed it with his thumb, whispering, "I'm truly sorry I didn't contact you, Padawan, sorry that I ventured out into that blizzard at all."

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to refute the apology, but Qui-Gon shook his head firmly. "Shh, Padawan, accept the apology," the older man insisted, moving his hand to lightly brush his fingers against Obi-Wan's cheek.

The younger Jedi closed his mouth and nodded. The Jedi Master smiled warmly at him and gently nudged him towards the couch in the center of the common room. "Sit, young one. I'll go make us some cocoa," Qui-Gon murmured.

"Wait, Master…" A small hand lightly grabbed his, halting the older man in his tracks.

He cast a curious glance at the sixteen-year-old. "Padawan?"

But Obi-Wan did not respond, instead offering a shy half smile and a tiny squeeze to the Master's larger hand before letting go and heading quickly towards his room. Qui-Gon gazed after him, bemused, but remained where he was.

Just a few moments later the boy emerged from his room, gingerly cradling a small, beautifully wrapped package.

When Obi-Wan returned to his Master's side, he pressed the tiny package into the older Jedi's hands. "Padawan?" he queried again, immediately kneeling on the floor beside the teenager and carefully holding the apparent gift, his Jedi robes spread around him. He tilted his head to the side slightly, midnight eyes clear and curious.

And it struck Obi-Wan suddenly—his teacher looked content. Unable to prevent the full grin from breaking out on his face, the younger Jedi urged gently, "Open it, Master."

Still curious, Qui-Gon gave a small nod and, sliding a fingernail along the wrapping paper, carefully opened the present. His breath caught in his throat as he beheld his Padawan's gift.

A single, small, white candle sat in his hand amidst the wrappings.

The Jedi Master's head jumped up and his midnight blue eyes locked on Obi-Wan's own cerulean orbs, wide and beginning to tear. He tried to say something. Choked. And gave up.

The sixteen-year-old gave a tiny nod of confirmation. "For Tahl, Master," Obi-Wan whispered, wrapping his smaller hands around Qui-Gon's larger ones. "So she can find her way home tonight."

His teacher made an odd sound in his throat, then, tears flushing down his cheeks. Before the boy could worry that perhaps the gift had not been such a good idea after all, he found himself abruptly pulled into the tightest hug he had ever received in his life.

Qui-Gon's face was buried against his neck and wet warmth trickled onto it from the Jedi Master's eyes.

Obi-Wan felt the large man's big frame trembling against him and was aware of the steel-like grip his teacher had on him. But he did not mind. For he understood suddenly—as he wrapped his own arms around the older Jedi—that these were the last tears Qui-Gon would cry for Tahl's death, that they were cleansing and would ease the last of the deeply buried burden he had carried in his soul.

At last, after a few endless moments of silence broken only by Qui-Gon's jerky sobs, the Jedi Master slowly pulled away from his student, brushing away the remaining tears which still clung to his cheeks. "Padawan…" he managed. "I-I don't know what to say…just…thank you. For everything."

The sixteen-year-old smiled shyly. "You're welcome, Master." He hesitantly touched the man's cheek. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, Padawan," Qui-Gon laughed thickly, "I've never been more all right."

Obi-Wan's smile widened. "I'm glad. Will you put the candle on the window sill, Master?"

The taller Jedi smiled in return. "Of course I will, but you're coming, too." In saying so, he rose from his knees, causing his apprentice's small hand to drop, and caught it in his own. Gently grasping the teenager's slender appendage, he drew the sixteen-year-old over to the large window which overlooked Coruscant.

Qui-Gon lit the white candle with one already burning brightly nearby, and placed it on the ledge. Stepping back, still holding his Padawan's hand, the Jedi Master contemplated the weaving flame for a bit.

Obi-Wan, having grown curious and slightly concerned, glanced up at his teacher a few moments later. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on his Master's face and brightened their resident twinkle. A small smile tugged at the big man's lips as he watched the clear flame tremble on its wick.

Perhaps feeling his student's gaze upon him, Qui-Gon turned and bestowed that small smile on his younger companion. When he spoke, his voice was soft, "A single candle can light the darkest corridor. A single child can alter the course of a war. A single light can brighten the darkest shadows…" Abruptly, he knelt, and grasping both his apprentice's hands, lifted his face to lock his gaze with the teenager's.

Said teenager drew in a sharp breath, for in his teacher's midnight eyes, a literal wealth of emotions blazed back at him.

The sixteen-year-old's breathing hitched. "Master?" breathed unsteadily.

"Never let that light go out, Padawan. Never, never," whispered by the Jedi Master in a fierce undertone. "For you have been mine throughout this dark time."

"Master…" murmured as the younger Jedi bashfully ducked his head.

A large hand tenderly cupped his cheek, the affectionate touch causing blush to flash across his cheeks.

Gently, Qui-Gon lifted his student's head, smiling at the endearing picture of shyness he was presented with. "It is true, young one," he whispered, smoothing away an errant tear trickling down the flushed cheek. Gently, he pulled the teenager down to kneel in front of him, pressing a soft kiss to his Learner's forehead. "I love you, Obi-Wan. More than life itself."

The End!