sithkabobed | IC CONTACT

"Obi-Wan had them delivered earlier this morning," Qui-Gon confirms with a smile as he closes the door behind Ezra with a casual wave of his hand.

In fact, a lot about him is casual today. From the local clothing he's decided to wear instead of the usual Jedi tunic, to the way he's carrying himself--still harboring a regal flair, but with a distinctively relaxed dip in his shoulders. Almost as if the first half of Obi-Wan's gift served as a cue for Qui-Gon to take things easy today.

Jedi generally didn't celebrate birthdays outside of that all-too-important 13th year, so giving himself a chance to unwind and disregard (most) responsibility is as close to a party as Qui-Gon's going to get. Which is fine by him--he never enjoyed being the center of attention.

"What brings you here today?" Qui-Gon's question is sincere. Even if he has an idea as to Ezra's purpose, it never hurt to clarify on the off-chance that he's wrong.

The difference in Qui-Gon's bearing doesn't go unnoticed, and in a way, it helps Ezra relax, too. Birthdays aren't something he's had much experience celebrating, either his or anyone else's, so it's easier if it's not a big deal. There's nothing he has to live up to here. Which is good, because honestly he hadn't really been able to think of much that he could do or get for Qui-Gon.

"I didn't know you had a sweet tooth, Master Jinn," he says playfully, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Is that really what Master Kenobi thought you'd like for your birthday?" Just a casual way to let Qui-Gon know that yes, he knows what today is.

Which means he can also pull out a small blue bag tied with a simple blue string and trust that when he holds it out, his teacher can connect the dots to realize what it is.

A birthday gift.

He'll find an assortment of a few different kinds of locally grown tea leaves, each in their own little packet.

And that's all the clarification he needs.

Qui-Gon is a master at keeping cool and relying on a neutral countenance to hide his feelings whenever the situation calls for it, and as such, Ezra's plain (but clearly heartfelt) gift-wrapping is regarded with an upturn of Qui-Gon's mouth and a gracious dip of his head. However, the way his eyes light up at the sight of small bag can't compete with well-practiced decorum.

"I see Obi-Wan has been spreading rumors," Qui-Gon chuckles, "Thank you."

He takes the present graciously from Ezra's hands and peeks inside, pulling out a couple of the packets and examining them thoroughly with an experienced taste. Although no expert in culinary arts, Qui-Gon does have an affinity for tea brewing. Regardless of the quality, he would've accepted Ezra's gift both without hesitation and without judgment, but he knows that for the young teenager, the show (hopefully) wouldn't cause offense, and would play an important role in cementing the sincerity in his next words.

"These leaves are outstanding. Where did you find them?"

"It's not a rumor if it's true," Ezra teases, but really his own smile is betraying how he really feels. Qui-Gon's examination of his gift doesn't come off as criticism at all, but rather as plain appreciation. Ezra knows how much Qui-Gon loves his tea. Praise like that, sincere as it is, can only bring a soft flush of pride.

"There's a little shop on a side street about two blocks from the market where we get our blueberries. If you look in the bag, there's a paper with the address." Because Ezra had had a feeling Qui-Gon would want to know where the shop is. "I was helping them out with some stuff for a job, and I heard some of the customers talking about the tea, that it was really good. I thought it might be something you'd like."

Ezra's gift is perfect by its thoughtfulness alone, which is all Qui-Gon could ask or hope for--and that's if he had been expecting said gift in the first place. Someone whose life is dedicated to the servitude of others with no anticipation of reward didn't often have the luxury of having a chance to appreciate or indulge in an act of recognition on his or her behalf, let alone because of an otherwise arbitrary notion like a birthday.

The long and short of it is evident in the quiet smile that slowly unfolds across Qui-Gon's face: his very heart's been touched.

"You thought correctly, young Padawan."

Qui-Gon folds the tea back into the bag and ties it back up. Its size is diminished in his large palms and with how gently he treats it and the contents inside, but both also serve to show just how much care is going into making sure his present is handled properly. He gives the bag one last glance before training his eyes on Ezra.

"Thank you, Ezra. Truly."

Young Padawan. It still sends a rush through him to be acknowledged as one of the Jedi, to hear someone openly call him that. It's not that he needs to hear other people confirm it. Back home, it was enough for him just to know what he is, to have Kanan teaching him. Jedi aren't supposed to seek glory or public acknowledgment, after all.

But still. It's a form of acceptance, and that's something priceless for him. Warmth flushes through him, and he can't stop his smile from growing, even as he ducks his head to hide it. A futile effort, since little patterns of wind ripple the air around them, ruffling through their hair.

"I... You're..." No, words aren't good enough. Not good enough when what this needs is just a really quick hug. He's a teenager and mostly too old for such things, but...

But this is a special occasion.

"You're welcome, Master Jinn. Happy birthday."

Edited 2017-06-16 01:39 (UTC)

Perhaps a small blessing to Ezra, Qui-Gon doesn't call attention to the gentle gusts of wind outside of his lingering smile.

The hug, on the other hand, doesn't receive any such treatment. Although Qui-Gon doesn't keep Ezra in an embrace any longer than the teenager deems comfortably necessary, he does give his shoulders a tight squeeze and that mop of hair a quick tousle, and although it wasn't intentional, the fact that his fingers brushed against the tiny ponytail hanging by Ezra's right ear certainly doesn't go unnoticed. The tiny swell of pride deep inside Qui-Gon's heart sees to that.

"Please remind me to return the favor when yours is near."

Most times, and with most people, getting his hair ruffled like that would be a recipe for a quick duck and protest, and maybe an elbow in the ribs (yeah, that one's for you, Zeb). In this case, though, it just gets a slight pinking of embarrassment that somehow doesn't stop him from leaning into it. Just for a second. Just until his pride kicks back in and he finally takes a step back.

"Um, well. It... won't be for a while." He never did tell Qui-Gon it was his birthday back then, did he. He shrugs nonchalantly. "My birthday was a few months ago."

With age comes wisdom and experience. In Qui-Gon's case, said experience keeps his questions in check, despite the fact that there are many. That nonchalant shrug clues him on Ezra's general attitude towards his own birthday: he's can't or doesn't want to make a big deal out of it. Regardless, Qui-Gon wants to respect those wishes.

For the most part.

"I see."

He nods at Ezra's response and gestures to the kitchen.

"Help yourself to some of the cupcakes. I'll be back in a moment. Please excuse me."

Without waiting for a response, Qui-Gon strides back to his room, the bag still in his hands.

It makes sense that Qui-Gon probably wants to go put his gift away, so Ezra doesn't question his departure. He's just as glad that the subject of his birthday didn't end up becoming a real subject. That could have gotten awkward to explain. Besides, there's an offer of cupcakes that he's been ignoring too long as it is.

"Okay," he agrees cheerfully, peeling away to go investigate the kitchen.

Qui-Gon's probably going to be down two or three of the treats before very long.

Edited 2017-06-25 02:10 (UTC)

Down two or three treats and very happy about it. There's no way someone even Qui-Gon's size can eat all of those cupcakes!

When he returns to Ezra, he's minus the gift bag (Having put everything away in a safe place. That's tea that should be used for special occasions), but he's holding something else. A couple of somethings, actually. A couple of somethings that look like leather hair ties. Brand new, never used, and perfect for someone who may have started growing a blue-black mop of hair. (And certainly not the result of someone simply too lazy to use them passing them along as a gift.)

Qui-Gon holds the ties out towards Ezra.

"I apologize that they aren't wrapped, but I was given very short notice," he smiles.

Edited 2017-06-25 03:03 (UTC)

From the startled expression on Ezra's face, getting a gift is clearly the last thing he expected. His mouth opens and the closes, his eyes just a little wide, before a light flush touches his cheeks.

"Master Jinn, you don't have to- I just told you it's not my birthday for months."

"You also said your birthday had passed. I'm simply giving you a belated gift."

There's a mischievous glint in Qui-Gon's eye--the look of someone who's used to playing with and sometimes outright breaking logic for it to serve their advantage. To his credit, Qui-Gon (usually) means well with said mental gymnastics, and this time is no exception. He continues to hold the ties out, patient as always.

Ezra makes a noise that's equal parts frustration and incomprehension because those are some gymnastics there. "That doesn't... You don't..." He can't even put it into words! "That's not how it works."

But he's still taking the hair ties, fingers awkward but gentle with the gift. Absolutely not a sign of how unaccustomed he is to receiving gifts.

"I... Thank you, Master Jinn."

It's a noise that Qui-Gon has heard far too often during his career as a Jedi, sometimes from those as high ranking as the Masters sitting on the Council. While he didn't exactly take pleasure in causing that mix of frustration and confusion, it usually meant he was onto something unique. Not always good, but unique.

Here, though, Qui-Gon is pretty sure it's a good thing.

"You're very welcome, Ezra."

He offers the boy a smile and a dip of his head before he continues.

"Would you like me to help you try one on?"

Help? Who gets help doing their hair? That's always been something Ezra's done for himself, not counting when he was really young. What, does Qui-Gon think he can't manage to tie a simple knot?

"No, I can do it," he says, already running his fingers through his hair to comb it back. All except the little tuft that he has bound behind one ear. (And really, that should count as evidence that he can manage a ponytail, right?) Then it's just a matter of setting the extra hair tie down before wrapping the little strip of leather around the bundle he's made from his hair and...

...and frowning as some of it promptly slips out before he can knot it.

And fumbling the knot because he can't see what he's doing and he's never tied a knot behind his own head.

And grunting in frustration when he can feel that the ponytail is in entirely the wrong spot, the weight hanging lopsided to one side. And that frustration itself is causing problems, too, the emotions frizzing his hair like he just passed way too close to an electric current. "Kriff," he curses as the knot slips again. "Qui-Gon-"

He stops, because dammit, this wasn't supposed to be so hard that he has to ask for help.

"Language," Qui-Gon gently chides, doing his best to hide a chuckle.

He easily steps behind Ezra and takes the stubborn hair tie, placing it on the table until it needs to be used. He first focuses on smoothing out the boy's frazzled hair, his long fingers combing through the tiny knots that managed to pop up from otherwise silky strands. Quite a few moments pass as Qui-Gon tames that black-blue mop, first from the boy's crown, then the sides (taking particular care in not brushing against the impromptu beginnings of a Padawan braid), and finally up from the nape of Ezra's neck. Like clockwork, he keeps a hold of the ponytail with one hand and gathers hair with the other, pulling everything taut and exact. He doesn't bother to ask if he's tugging too hard or if Ezra is in any pain--he's sure the boy will let him know (and that he'll adjust accordingly. Maybe.).

Tying it all together doesn't take much time or effort. Qui-Gon's deft fingers quickly slide the leather strip underneath the small ponytail while still holding it tight. He then wraps it around itself a few times, ending with a simple knot hidden against the back of Ezra's head.

"And done. Go ahead and take a look."

He'll wait patiently. It doesn't help that there's only one, maybe two, mirrors in the Jedi household.

Edited 2017-07-09 21:43 (UTC)

The sensation of someone's hands in his hair is almost entirely foreign. A few times that Hera's smoothed it back, a rare playful ruffle from Kanan, or a rough noogie from Zeb, but for the most part people don't really touch his head. Not since... not since his parents...

Ezra falls quiet, and not because he'd been chastised (really, Qui-Gon, that curse had been mild). More because he's unsure, almost lost, because he has nothing to compare this with, nothing to tell him what to do, except for dusty memories of loving family, and that... Qui-Gon isn't... Qui-Gon is...

Caught in the uncertainty, Ezra holds himself still. It doesn't take long, though still long enough for the rhythmic motions of combing and taming his hair to almost... start to feel soothing. And then all too soon it's over, leaving Ezra blinking and still unsure how to even respond to it.

Well, other than doing what Qui-Gon just said. He looks up at the Master, one self-conscious hand going to his hair, before a tentative smile finds its way on his face.

"I- Thanks. I'll be right back."

It'll only take him a minute. He knows where the nearest mirror is.

Well, no, make that two minutes. Just a few seconds to get to the mirror, but the rest of the time spent looking at his reflection and letting the sheer difference try to sink in.

As Ezra left, Qui-Gon nudged him along with a gentle push against the boy's shoulder out of the kitchen, followed by a soft smile that slowly curled the edges of his lips.

While Ezra takes his time absorbing the drastic change something as simple as a new hairstyle can make, Qui-Gon contemplates his own brush (pun intended) with his new official haircut that symbolized his status as a Padawan. Granted, the situation is somewhat different for Ezra--Kanan isn't here to tie his braid, after all--but it's hard to imagine that the boy isn't going through a similar sense of realization.

He is all the closer to becoming a Jedi.

So Qui-Gon awaits his return patiently.... outside of sneaking himself one of far too many leftover cupcakes.

Edited 2017-07-11 00:44 (UTC)

Ezra's never been vain, never worried about his appearance. That kind of thing was better left to people with the money to afford to care. He only ever bothered to fuss with his hair whenever it grew long enough to get in his way, at which point he usually found a pair of scissors to cut it himself. This, though...

With one hand coming up to finger the little tuft behind his ear, now fully visible with his hair pulled back, he'd be lying if said he didn't care this time. It's not a braid, not yet, but someday... Someday it will be, and until then, people can still see his intent.

I'm a Padawan. I have a Master. And I will see him again someday. And somehow, that feels like an even bolder declaration than holding his lightsaber fully ignited.

When he finally emerges, the smile on his face has grown. "I think I look older," he says, because he doesn't know how to articulate how proud he feels to be able to identify what he is openly like this.

"Well, you have grown quite a bit, Padawan," Qui-Gon agrees as he reaches out one more time to make sure Ezra's hair stays smoothed out with a quick, rough brush of his fingers. Something about his tone indicates that he's not just talking about the boy's height (although there has definitely been some improvement there, as well). He steps back and glances at the young Padawan in front of him with a discerning eye, as if searching for something intangible.

Qui-Gon's noticed something else; a change in Ezra's personality. He's matured and, despite remaining a typical teenager at his core, has adopted qualities befitting a Padawan. The discipline, the humility, the openness... they were all qualities present at the start, but over the past few months, they've blossomed.

For a moment, Qui-Gon swears he can see young Obi-Wan standing tall, ready to take on the next challenge life has in store.

"Kanan will be proud."

Something warm spreads through all of Ezra's chest, pleased at the comment about his height, yes, but more touched by the sentiment conveyed by the affectionate brush of his hair. He can tell, without words, what Qui-Gon's really saying.

And it's only cemented by that final declaration.

For a moment, it feels like everything's lighter, everything's brighter in the world (and for a moment, it literally is, with sunlight glinting off of every surface and a few objects even floating an inch or two in the air). Ezra beams up at Qui-Gon - because no matter how much he's grown, he's still much, much shorter than that giant of a man.

"Thank you, Master Jinn. I hope- I can't wait until I can see him again."

It's okay, Ezra. Most people are with you on the whole 'getting towered over by Qui-Gon' thing. Enough so that he doesn't say a word about him having to look up, nor does he mention the various floating items and the shimmers of light. Instead, Qui-Gon's hand comes to a rest on Ezra's shoulder as he guides the teenager towards the table.

"Until that day arrives, let us enjoy the now."

That's always been Qui-Gon's philosophy. There's no point in trying to discern the hypothetical future, just as there's no point in thinking about the cemented past. All they are guaranteed are the moments ticking by, filled with mirth, filled with sadness, filled with laughter, and filled with tears. There's a beauty in the ability to appreciate each precious second of 'now' and what they bring.

'Now' brings a tray of sweets with their names on it.

'Now' brings the animated conversation that awaits them, birthday related and otherwise.

'Now' brings the trail of amaryllis flowers twisting along the ground around Qui-Gon's feet, their petals opening to greet yet another day to be savored as a gift like no other.

'Now' is what he and Ezra have, and 'now' is what Qui-Gon will let himself fall into as the two enjoy everything it carries.

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