A/N: A prompt filled on tumblr. A nice breather from the craziness of final projects!

Nim Drovis was an incredibly moist planet. It was not merely humid. It had taken its humidity and fermented it into a new physical state, an indelible and squelching something that can only be adequately encapsulated in the involuntary repulsive flinch elicited by the sound of the word moist.

And that, thought Obi-Wan Kenobi beneath his eighteen-year-old scowl, was on the best of days.

Running through his mental archive of more fanciful vocabulary, as he had a tendency to do when he was bored or brooding, Obi-Wan decided that deluge was a fitting word for the carnage raging outside. Lightning cracked above in a blinding flash, and if not for his Jedi sense of calm, the percussion would've made Obi-Wan jump.

Beside him, Qui-Gon shifted. Obi-Wan hugged his knees closer to his chest, discretely covering his nose with the edge of a damp sleeve. Humidity had the tendency to amplify the human olfactory senses, and it must be said that neither Obi-Wan nor his master had had opportunity to wash in the past week.

In the age of supralight travel, it was easy to forget how miserable it could be to travel by foot. How instructional then, for the Force to remind them of their privilege when it allowed their ship to malfunction and crash land into the middle-of-bleeding-hells-nowheresville.

"This is not a very large cave," observed Qui-Gon, who was attempting to stretch his aching legs and finding that the curvature of the muddy alcove could not accomodate their length.

Obi-Wan did not look at him as he said into his sleeve, "It would help if you were not such a very large man."

Qui-Gon glared at him. It was a testament to the intensity of Obi-Wan's ill humor when the padawan made no reaction whatsoever.

"Hmm," replied the Jedi master, in one syllable communicating both understanding and a promise of retribution. "A short walk, then." He crouched in order to shuffle to the outside. "It will be nice to feel the rain."

Obi-Wan's scowl turned slightly to pin incredulous ginger eyebrows on his master. His aristocratic corebred accent made his next question sound just as reproachful as he felt: "We're in the middle of a thunderstorm and you want to go out and feel the rain?"

"It is not cold." Qui-Gon said, as if this explained his entire rationale. He stepped out into the downpour and was immediately drenched. He smiled at his apprentice through the rain, having to raise his voice over the roar. "You ought to come too. You smell awful."

Obi-Wan scoffed at that. He sniffed disdainfully, which dragged in a lungful of putrid, muddy, moist air. Wafting in from the air tossed in Qui-Gon's wake, he could smell sweet curls of ozone. Lightning cracked above, illuminating Qui-Gon's tall figure already some metres away from the opening of the cave.

"Kriff it," Obi-Wan said, only because his master was not there to hear him, "Kriff it all, kriff it to hels and back." He hit his head on the way up and cursed again, shuffling sideways like a soggy, be-robed crab until he met with a wall of water.

He couldn't help it when the feel of it made him gasp, but he shook it off and continued on. Water poured on him as if from all sides, buffeting his hair and his shoulders, snaking down his back and into his boots, warm rivulets streaming down his hands and off his fingers, leaving webbed paths of clear skin where they carved away the grime.

It felt nice.

As if sensing this realization, Qui-Gon let out a laugh. "You look a sight, Obi-Wan!" He called from up ahead. Obi-Wan looked up at him and forced himself to not smile. He marched to catch up with his master.

"Your hair looks like a drowned lothcat," He deadpanned. "It's got mud all in it."

"Oh, has it?" Qui-Gon asked, and reached down to gather a handful of watery mud. He slapped it on Obi-Wan's hair and smiled as it dripped down his braid. Obi-Wan stood frozen in place, aghast. "You've got a bit in yours as well," said Qui-Gon.

"Why you…" Obi-Wan wiped it off his head and flung it at his master, who gave a retaliatory force-wave of water and debris at Obi-Wan. Lightning flashed above, illuminating their faces as bickering turned into a senseless waterfight. Mud and leaves and bits of marshland flew in time with hands and force-shoves at the two soaking Jedi.

They were both drenched and caked in mud when the rescue shuttle finally found them. Amid the lightning, the floodlights were hard to discern, but it landed close by and opened bay doors to let them in from the rain.

"Masters Jedi!" cried the ho'din crewmember over the rain, "We've been looking everywhere for you! Come inside, quickly!"

"There, you see," smiled the master, whose hair now looked like a very muddy drowned lothcat, "that wasn't so bad, now was it?"

Obi-Wan only shook his head and shoed his master on board impatiently. A fifteen minute bath in muddy rain was hardly a redeeming jewel after a week's trek on foot in a marshland, but then again, the Force worked in mysterious ways.

Despite the mud, they were both smiling.