Zannah: "Okay, this one isn't mine. It was drawn as a gift by  wielder, and the story was done by  sentharn. Since they gave me permission some time ago to post this to my personal gift art account, I'm also going to share it here."

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They waited in the gilded stone hallway. They'd been waiting there for some time, and each of them brimmed with excitement and anticipation, though you'd not see that in every one of them if you didn't know how to look for it; some hid it better than others. Every once in awhile one of them would glance towards the elegant lift doors at the end of the hallway, as if to remind themselves that it was still there, and quickly look back at the floor to pretend that they weren't just as anxious as the others to hear the doors swish open and hear the news brought forth.

They each had their own way of waiting. Wielder clacked her paws on the stone, just barely, and stared off into space, and Obi-Wan of course could have outwaited a glacier. Cassandra and Nartashi, though sisters they may have been, stood as opposites. Nartashi, the elder, stood as the epitome of patience, little tail swishing softly in the breeze, standing calm at ease. Cassandra couldn't decide whether to stand or sit, and though she wanted just as badly as everyone else to hear whether young Zannah would step out of the lift as a proud Jedi Padawan or a reject, she really wished the council would get a move on!

“How long now?” she asked, sitting on the floor. Nartashi tried not to smile.

“It's been only thirty minutes,” said Obi-Wan to the little brown-furred girl. “This is an important event, Cassandra. These things take time. You will learn the value of patience some day, I promise you.”

Cassandra rolled her eyes and twitched her good ear—she hated the p word.

“Don't listen to him, kid,” said Wielder. “Patience is overrated.”

Obi-Wan didn't take the bait.

So they waited, like little children waiting for the sweets store to open in the early morning, each of them trying not to let the others know how much they wanted to know what was going on in the Jedi Council Chamber. Had Zannah been accepted as a padawan? Who would her master be? Or had the Council deemed her unworthy, and condemned her to live life as a service worker in the Jedi Corps?

They talked while they waited, about many things, but mostly about how Zannah had kicked butt in the Padawan Hopeful tournaments, and how mean 'ol Jerome had gotten his tail handed to him on a plate when he'd gotten cocky and tried going after little white-furred Zannah, who was a foot shorter than him but much more able with her lightsaber...

“...and—and remember how Zanny just stood there,” said Cassandra, lisping her way through a re-enactment of the tournament, gesturing wildly with tiny snowy paws, “and he couldn't beat her, not a bit? Was untouchable. She was like some—like some—like a—“

“Like a goddess,” Nartashi finished for her. They did that often—such were the ways of bonded empaths.

“Yah!”

“And then there was Daystar. It was kind of funny seeing her knocked flat by Zannah. 'Specially after all the taunting she did at the start of the match.”

“She had it coming. Mean little—! She said that my ear made me look—”

“Now now, Cassandra,” Obi-Wan admonished, though his voice was tempered and gentle. “Such anger is not the way of a Jedi knight. Although I concede that her remark to you was quite cruel.”

“She did have it coming though,” said Wielder, and her eyes glittered. “Funny how the people who say they're so great usually end up being knocked on their tails.”

“Ego,” sniffled Obi-Wan. “It has claimed a great many Jedi.”

“I don't know about you, girls,” said Wielder with a wink. “But that sounded like the politician calling the thief sly.”

“Wielder--”

Obi-Wan didn't get to finish what would surely have been a top-notch retort, because the lift doors chose that moment to slide open with a whisper, and out stepped young Zannah.

You couldn't tell what had transpired in the Council chamber just by looking; she had too much control to allow that to happen. She walked slowly, brown eyes downcast, each step made in careful moderation, her boots making the softest of sounds on the marble floor. Everyone's eyes followed her movements as she walked to where they stood, and the questions burned in the silent air.

Obi-Wan didn't ask, because if you looked closely at his eyes then you would see that he already knew, and had known for a long time. Nor did Wielder—but that was only because Cassandra, ever the impatient one, beat her to it when the silence grew loud.

“Well?” she said, breathless. “Zanny--you's a padawan now?”

Zannah smiled a bit, and in answer she turned her head to the side, just enough to show her ebony hair, pulled back in a neat braid—the traditional sign of the Jedi Padawan.

Everyone started talking at once and the silence shattered into a cacophony of cheerful congratulations: Obi-Wan's warm tenor and Wielder's smooth alto and the cheerful, excited babbles of Cassandra and Nartashi.

“One at a time, guys, one at a time!” Zannah giggled. “Master Thorodin took me on as padawan.”

“Congratulations, m'dear,” said Obi-wan, with the slightest of bows. “That's quite an honor. Master Thorodin doesn't often deal with youngsters.”

“Well, kid,” said Wielder, and if you had been there you would have heard the approval lurking under her gruff voice, “You did do pretty good in the Arena...I guess it was bound to happen, really.”

“What?” said Cassandra. “Just pretty good? She kicked Jerome's butt!”

“Come on. She was the best!” giggled Nartashi.

Zannah laughed. “Well, it helped that I had good teachers. Like Master Obi-Wan.”

“Indeed you did, m'dear,” said Obi-Wan.

“Weren't you just saying something about ego, Obi-Wan?” cooed Wielder.

“Wielder--”

You could hear their playful banter all the way down the hallway, long after they had rounded the bend and disappeared from sight. Their joy was contagious, and when they reached the floor with the clan billet it soon spread throughout the entire dormitory.

It was afternoon when Zannah broke the news to the fellow younglings in her clan, and the celebration went on late into the night in the common room. The newly-christened padawan was surrounded by a swarm of excited younglings, bubbling with questions—really? You went into the Council Chamber? What was it like? Who's your new master? Thorodin, that old wolf? I heard he was real scary. Was Master Windu serious like always? He's never any fun. When do you get to go save the galaxy on some big mission? When will we see you again?

“Probably tomorrow. Don't you worry,” she said. “I won't be going away from here for a long time...”

Zannah, the good sport that she was, tolerated these questions with ceaseless patience, but soon she grew tired, and left it to Obi-Wan and Wielder to chase the giggling younglings back into their dorms, Cassandra and Nartashi excluded. The arched common room was soon empty but for the five of them.

Obi-Wan and Wielder left the girls alone for awhile for a last-minute round of goodbyes and gift-giving.

“We got you something,” said Cassandra slyly, paws behind her back, shuffling her footpaws. “All of us, I mean—Obi-Wan and Wielder and Nartashi and I. Was Nartashi's idea...”

“Was not,” said Nartashi. “You were the one that said it first.”

“Well...yah. And then Obi-Wan and Wielder helped get it, so...um.” She withdrew her paws from behind her back and opened them. “I mean, it's not much, but...”

The rough stone glittered like the rainbow glows after a rainstorm, casting little motes of lights around Cassandra's paws. It seemed to contain the light of the stars within, and it rolled heavy around her paws. Zannah gasped.

“I-is that--”

“It's a lightsaber crystal,” said Nartashi, peering at it. “I dunno where Master Kenobi and Wielder got it—never seen one like that. It's rough, so—”

“--so you's can shape it and stuff when you build your lightsaber,” Cassandra finished.

“We thought it'd make a nice good-bye gift.”

“It's lovely,” Zannah said. “But c'mon, it's not a funeral, and I'm not going away. I'm just moving upstairs!” She laughed and hugged the two young sisters. “You two are great...trust me, I'll still be around.”

Ten minutes later, she had packed all her belongings into a little bag. She grasped it in her paws, and she stood by the portal leading to the main corridor outside, waiting for the arrival of Master Thorodin. There was much toe-tapping and anxious shufflings from Jedi Masters and younglings alike, and Zannah had to keep reassuring the young sisters that she was moving just one floor away, no further, and that not even Master Thorodin could keep them from exploring the Temple together at night. After all—curfews were for sissies!”

The door irised open with the most quiet of whispers, and there towered Master Thorodin, in the fur.

“Master Thorodin,” said Obi-Wan with a slight bow.

“Master Obi-Wan,” intoned Thorodin, gruff as usual. “...Wielder,” he added, for in lieu of a bow the Jedi Knight merely tossed her head, paws on her hips and the slightest of grins on her face. “Younglings,” he added to little Cassandra and Nartashi, gazing up in awe at the grizzled Jedi Master. “And Padawan Zannah. You are prepared?”

“Master Thorodin,” said Zannah, voice perfectly tempered. “I am ready.” She bowed, the very model of formality, as protocol dictated. With a quick good-bye, Zannah and Thorodin departed for the knight's billet one floor up. Zannah held herself with just the right amount of pride as she considered the past and considered the future—her accomplishments, and what she hoped to achieve.

Master Thorodin smiled as he considered his young padawan. She would go far with her dreams, he thought. Yes, she would go far...

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Artwork by  wielder, story by  sentharn. Reposted by zannah.

Wielder belongs to  wielder
Obiwan is of course, George Lucas's
Nartashi and Cassandra belong to  sentharn
And Zannah and Thorodin belong to  zannah

Original image can be found here: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/4824722/