Obi-Wan said nothing as they entered the practice room. They had not spoken in the long minutes it took to reach the salon but, as his padawan shuffled reluctantly over to the bench to prepare for the match, Qui-Gon could see Obi-Wan's protest in the furtive glances toward the door, the white-knuckled hands, the thunderous set of his face. The way he refused to meet Qui-Gon's gaze.

Watching Obi-Wan struggle to accept the situation, Qui-Gon fought the urge to comfort him. He knew that his padawan would neither welcome nor appreciate the gesture at the moment. And, much as it pained him, he also knew that it would only cloud the issue.

Always an exemplary student, Obi-Wan's growth toward Knighthood had been steady and sure in the last few years. But confused about his love for Siri and the despair that came with his decision to put aside that love and remain with the Jedi, he was refusing to face his pain. He had to get past this or it might cripple him. And if fighting Siri in the arena would get him to realize it, then so much the better.

But that didn't mean that Qui-Gon was unsympathetic. Far from it. But it was Obi-Wan's choice and, at the moment, it was an unhappy one.

Finished with his preparations, Obi-Wan sank down onto the seat and sat there, hunched over, elbows on knees. His padawan was staring at his lightsaber; he kept rolling the hilt back and forth between his hands. Clearly nervous.

And as Qui-Gon considered what to do next, his padawan finally looked up. Frowning, face set with determination, it was his eyes that told the truth about the situation. Obi-Wan was miserable. But he also looked as if he were ready to do what needed to be done - even at the cost of his own well being.

In a small way, Qui-Gon felt relieved. It would seem that Obi-Wan was taking his first steps towards acceptance of the situation, hard as that might be, and, with time, the wound would heal.

But as Qui-Gon moved toward his apprentice, hoping to talk further about this, Adi Gallia entered the room. Looking first at Obi-Wan, she nodded briefly toward him and then turned and walked over to Qui-Gon's side.

"Siri will be here momentarily. She is... unhappy about our arrangement." A glance again toward his padawan. "As unhappy as Obi-Wan seems to be. But I think you are right, Qui-Gon. They need to confront their feelings and let go. They certainly can't work well together as it stands."

He didn't have time to reply because Padawan Tachi came into the room. She stopped short, just inside the door, looking at Obi-Wan for a moment. Qui-Gon could see the pain in her face and then watched it smooth into Jedi calm. It would appear that Siri knew how to hide her own feelings well.

As the girl walked toward the two masters, Adi smiled, gesturing for her to come closer.

Qui-Gon looked down at the girl, testing the currents of the Force for any sign of anger or strong emotion in her. Siri just stared back at him, almost defiant. She was tightly shielded but there was an air of challenge in her posture. But he could see that Adi was correct; Siri didn't want to be here any more than Obi-Wan did.

Glancing at the older woman for a moment, he turned back to Siri and inclined his head in greeting.

As much as it appeared that Siri did not like the situation, her manners were impeccable. She bowed with all the grace of a senior padawan and waited silently as Qui-Gon motioned for Obi-Wan to join them in the center of the room.

Reluctant as he had been over the last few minutes, Obi-Wan was even more so now. He walked over and stood a careful arms-length away from the girl. Frowning, his arms wrapped tightly around his chest, his padawan glanced once at Siri and then turned away, instead looking at Qui-Gon with a steadfast deliberate gaze, seemingly focused on the coming match. But the hooded eyes and flat mouth told a different tale.

Fooling no one, the two of them were only making things more difficult with this feigned indifference. The frown on Obi-Wan's face was cutting-sharp and he looked as if he wanted to disappear. Siri's own scowl could have matched Obi-Wan's line for line.

Qui-Gon stood there for a moment, watching them both, and then said calmly, "As Jedi, we are taught to serve selfless service, to put the needs of others above our own desires."

Siri seemed to blaze with anger for a moment, sending Obi-Wan a glare that should have incinerated him into smoking ruin. But his Learner only shifted uneasily, ignoring her heated stare.

Stubborn padawans, causing pain when they should have been helping each other to grow into acceptance. Qui-Gon wanted to shake some sense into them. But instead, he said, "You both have accepted the rules of the Jedi Order and pledged your lives to it. It is a hard road, a hard life you have chosen, but one that will bring you fulfillment in the service of others. But you both seemed to have forgotten what is central to a Jedi's life." He slowed, emphasizing his words, "Compassion, compassion not just for the poor or the sick but for everyone and that includes compassion for your fellow Jedi. Compassion for each other. Remember that and you will find balance once more."

Staring first for a long moment at Siri and then pointedly at Obi-Wan, he nodded toward the sparring circle in the center of the room, "Once Padawan Tachi is ready, you may begin."

Qui-Gon stepped back, giving the two padawans leave to prepare for the match. With a smile and nod from her master, Siri went over to the bench and began a series of stretching exercises to warm up.

Wordless, Obi-Wan moved to the center of the sparring ring, and stood there, pensive and frowning, his eyes dull. He seemed to have turned inward for a moment and Qui-Gon knew, from long experience, that his Learner was thinking about what he had said and taking his words to heart. Whatever his own pain, Obi-Wan was a compassionate young man and much harder on himself than others, sometimes too much so.

It was only a few heartbeats later and Siri entered the circle. Setting the power of her saber on low, she smoothed into ready stance. Obi-Wan matched her, move for move but nothing more. No grand sweep of his saber, or daring push into her defenses. He waited there, passive and somber, and let his blade hum discord into the room.

As the moments lengthened, Siri's impatience finally gained the upper hand. The first to break the impasse, she sent a sharp look toward both masters, and then with a quick sweep of her saber, she was on Obi-Wan, slashing down toward his lowered blade.

Surprised, his Learner stepped back, raising his lightsaber and defending himself. But he did not step forward with his own sure moves. There was no attempt to gain the upper hand in this match as he normally would have done. Instead, he retreated again and again as she struck at him; their sabers flared with each offensive thrust, the spitting crackle of crossed lightsabers filling the room with battle-noise.

Qui-Gon grew concerned as Siri pushed Obi-Wan back toward the edge of the circle. His padawan was not fighting her and yet she was becoming more and more aggressive with each attack. "She is using her anger."

A quick shake of her head, Master Gallia corrected, "No, not anger. Uncertainty. Whenever she grows unsure of her own actions, she tends to react… vigorously." Putting one small hand on his sleeve, she nodded toward her padawan. "She is young. She will learn control in time."

"Perhaps." Indeed, this insight into Siri's reactions might explain why his Learner reacted so strongly whenever he had seen her in the past few months. Obi-Wan tended to withdraw when uncertain and think about the situation before reacting - a lesson learned after Melida/Daan - and his apprentice was only now realizing that there was a place for feeling as well as thinking. A fine balance and one he would achieve as he grew in experience. But if Siri were lashing out as a way of barricading herself from the emotions of attachment, his padawan might not see it as anything but anger with his attempts at friendship.

"They need to work out their differences, Qui-Gon. As you well know."

With a nod, Qui-Gon accepted the mild reproof and then he turned back to watch the match.

Ob-Wan's blade blurring with speed, first low then high, he prevented another strike as Siri pressed her advantage. He was sweating, his tunic dark with it and the frown on his face seemed permanently etched into his skin. Even from a distance, Qui-Gon could see his padawan breathing heavily. But more importantly, he could feel Obi-Wan's pain, confusion and sharp disappointment and even anger swirling in the Force.

For a moment, Siri stepped back and his apprentice used the brief pause to look in his direction. Obi-Wan's grey eyes were clouded with hurt and vulnerability. Qui-Gon tried to send him an encouraging smile; his hand moved to grip the lightsaber at his waist, an obvious reminder to his Learner that he was confident of the young man's abilities and encouraging him to do his best.

The message must have gotten through because Obi-Wan seemed to gather strength at that, and when Siri renewed her attack, he fought back. At last.

She must have expected him to continue on as he had done, defending against her attacks but not pressing for victory. When he moved forward suddenly, she jerked in surprise and then over-reached, her body twisting as she tried to push his blade down. As he stepped back, looping his saber around hers in an attempt to disarm her, she stumbled and, turning abruptly to avoid getting burned, she fell to the floor with a heavy thud.

Obi-Wan was there in an instant, rushing to her side. Squatting down, his hands fisted on his knees as if afraid to offer his help, he said, "Siri, are you hurt? Do you need to go to the Healers?"

From his vantage point, Qui-Gon could not see what the girl was doing. He asked Adi, in a low, hurried voice, "Is she injured?" But Siri's Master just shook her head. He knew that Adi would have gone to Siri if there had been any problem but she did not seem worried. He pushed aside his own concern and waited to see how the two padawans would react to the situation.

Siri must not have replied to Obi-Wan's question for he repeated it, more urgently this time, leaning forward in his concern. She whispered something, some instruction or reassurance and he stood up and then bent down, hand outstretched, offering his support.

Qui-Gon was surprised when the girl grabbed onto Obi-Wan's hand and then, with a sharp tug, rolled backwards, flipping his padawan over her head and scrambling to her feet even as Obi-Wan hit the floor. Skidding, he let out a loud grunt and lay there, staring up at her.

"Kenobi, what kind of game are you playing?" There was challenge in her voice. "I'm not some youngling to be protected. Now, stop embarrassing us both and fight."

As Obi-Wan struggled up and back into ready stance, Qui-Gon could not hear his reply but an instant later, the two padawans were fighting with everything at their command. His student was a brilliant centerpoint in the tumultuous battle; his blade seemed to be everywhere at once and now it was Siri that was forced to defend. Vigorously.

But as they continued to fight, it seemed that the Force grew calmer, more at peace. Their thrusts and counter-strikes turned from furious assault into a celebration of light and focus and anticipation. Of joy in the dance.

Obi-Wan's frown had melted into concentration and he was smiling as he plunged himself into the moment. The blur of blades, blue and violet, morphed into Mobius stripes of unsullied radiance, the light almost too bright to be seen with human eyes, beautiful in the luminescent glory of pure energy.

And it could have gone on forever, as the war between them turned into acceptance and acceptance into satisfaction, but when exhaustion set in, the first mistake was inevitable.

His padawan tried to parry an overhead strike but Siri took advantage of the situation, sweeping her leg up towards Obi-Wan's vulnerable throat. He was too fast. As she pivoted up into position, he feigned and then brought his blade down across her side, searing through cloth and flesh.

With a startled yelp, she dropped her arm, protecting her injured side. Obi-Wan backed up, letting her get her breath and control the pain.

But Adi Gallia had had enough. Calling a halt to the fight, she said, "Well done, both of you. That will be enough for today."

Obi-Wan and Siri were not listening. Instead, the two of them stood there, breath ragged and unsteady, staring at each other. Qui-Gon could see the euphoria of the saber match slowly drain away from Obi-Wan's face but his padawan continued to gaze at the girl, clearly waiting for some signal. Which did not come.

Finally, as the endless moments dragged into bewilderment, his padawan turned away and started walking slowly toward Qui-Gon. Even from a distance, he could see the defeat in Obi-Wan's eyes. Behind him, Siri looked shattered.

But only for a moment. Straightening, she called after him, "Obi-Wan," and as he turned around, she said, "That last move of yours… a baby from the crèche could do better. You need practice and lots of it."

In the Force, Qui-Gon could feel Obi-Wan's pained astonishment at her words. But that changed a moment later when she said loudly, "Here, tomorrow, same time. And I won't hold back next time."

He could not understand how she could treat Obi-Wan with such disrespect. He was tempted to speak to Master Gallia about her padawan's casual disregard for others but it became clear a moment later that he might have misinterpreted Siri's intent. For Obi-Wan did not react as he had expected.

Instead of tumbling into further pain with her remark, his padawan straightened up, blinking rapidly, and a wide relieved grin spread across on his face. He turned back to her, and said softly, "I'll be there."

With a sharp nod, Siri walked away - the lightness in her step spoke of understanding between them and the beginnings of acceptance. The door closed smoothly behind her.

As Master Gallia sighed in relief, she turned to Qui-Gon, saying quietly, "I think it might just have worked. Although I believe there will be long Master - Padawan discussions ahead." She rested her hand on Qui-Gon's sleeve for a moment and nodded toward Obi-Wan. "Good luck with your own. Let me know if I can be of any further help."

"Thank you, Adi, I will."

With a final pat of his arm, she inclined her head first to Qui-Gon and then to Obi-Wan and then followed her apprentice out of the room.

Then there were just the two. Master and Apprentice.

Obi-Wan was still staring at the door, frowning in concentration rather than in pain but with a small smile on his face as well. The Force, too, was clearing; the smoky currents of anger and aggression had dissipated into peaceful clarity. Although he was still confused about the import of Siri's final comments, Obi-Wan was not; apparently, the confrontation had worked better than Qui-Gon planned.

But Qui-Gon had to make sure. As he moved next to his padawan, he asked, "Obi-Wan?"

Glancing at him for a moment and then turning back toward the door, his padawan said quietly, "You were right after all, Master. She was in pain."

"I know." Qui-Gon's hand gripped the shoulder of his student, a show of support for his young Learner, and then he let Obi-Wan go. He kept his voice light but there was just a touch of worry as he said, "She challenged you to another match."

A smile lightened Obi-Wan's face. "That was her way of saying that we were still friends."

"I'm glad for you, my Padawan. You both have so much to offer. And friendship is a precious thing."

Obi-Wan nodded and then, turning serious again, murmured, "Yes, but it will not be the same." His grey eyes expressive with concern, he looked into Qui-Gon's own. "The memories of that day and all the days since then... I know I made the right decision staying with the Jedi. But I still question why it happened. Did the Force have some reason? Wouldn't it have been better never to have loved at all than this?"

Shaking his head, Qui-Gon realized that he had been asking the same questions of himself in the years since he had lost Tahl. But he also knew that, with time, for all the loss, his love for her had only made him a better Jedi. A better man.

"Obi-Wan, if you had to choose it all over again, would you choose never to have loved? Even knowing that you could do nothing more than let go of your attachment?"

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to say something, some quick retort that wouldn't come. Instead, he turned away, staring sightless into the distance, frowning. In deep thought.

Knowing that his ever-serious padawan would need to reach his own conclusions, Qui-Gon prepared to wait however long it took. But it was only a few moments later that Obi-Wan said, soft and low, "No, I would not change what happened."

"A wise man you have become, my Padawan." Qui-Gon said with smiling approval. Then turning solemn, he promised, "The pain will fade in time but the memories will remain. Treasure them, Obi-Wan."

His padawan bowed slightly, a wordless acknowledgement, and then they turned as one and began walking toward the exit.

For a few moments, there was nothing but silence. Then, with much hesitation as if concerned with overstepping his bounds and intruding on Qui-Gon's privacy but needing to know the answer for his own peace of mind, Obi-Wan said, "Master, do you... treasure your memories with Master Tahl?"

"The good ones, yes. She had a rare gift of seeing past the facade and into the heart." He stopped, looking at Obi-Wan with all seriousness. "She saw a young boy who had made a mistake and knew that he was meant to be a Jedi. And she was tough enough and pushy enough to get through his foolish Master's stubborn pride and made sure that the boy was given a second chance."

A shy murmur. "Not so foolish."

"Very foolish but he has learned many things since then." Qui-Gon reached out and took the long braid of his Learner between his fingertips, feeling the strands of thread against his palm. A reminder of times past and a future together woven into the tapestry of their lives. Smiling down at Obi-Wan, he carefully patted the hair back into place. "The memories will help you grow into the Jedi Knight I know you will be in time. Compassionate and sure of purpose, dedicated to the Light."

Seemingly embarrassed by the praise, Obi-Wan glanced away for a moment. Then turning back, with a half smile, he said wryly, "And wise?"

Qui-Gon tried not to laugh. He knew that his apprentice was attempting to lighten the moment. They had both had enough of anger and despair and pain; it was good to see Obi-Wan's normally sunny disposition start to shine through.

"Wise indeed, my diligent one." Huffing in amusement, he gave his apprentice an affectionate shake, then twisting him back toward the door, let him go.

As they walked side by side, Qui-Gon knew it was time to share some of his own memories. The happy ones. "Have I ever told you how Tahl and I became friends?" When Obi-Wan looked up in surprise and shook his head, Qui-Gon just chuckled, "She was just four and scampering around, screeching at the top of her lungs, trying to outrun the crèche masters. She was a boisterous little thing, always getting into trouble..."

Glancing down to see the growing smile on Obi-Wan's face and his eyes green with amusement, Qui-Gon's spirit eased into relief. It would be all right after all.

Relaxing into the moment, he could feel it in all its crystal clarity - brilliant and beautiful. But it was more than a single instant of accord between them. They were bound together not only by the Jedi code but by experience and loss and hope for the future, companions in the Force. Master and apprentice.

And it was good.

The end.