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If asked, Tony would agree that of course the Jedi Code contained a rule (somewhere) about living Humbly and Frugally (probably) in order to stay better connected to the Will of the Force (more or less). Didn’t stop him from cramming his personal living quarters with about a dozen times more Stuff than his fellow Jedi, most of it bits and pieces for his droids and construction projects, with all assorted associated tools and the occasional welding mask.
(Rhodey made a joke once of putting up a Warning: Hazardous Work Site sign outside his door, only to take it back down a week later because Tony liked the silly thing. “The fewer people who try to bother me the better,” he’d said at the time, which really contorted Rhodey’s face in an un-Jedi-like manner.)
But anywho. Speaking of his droids...
Right as Tony was setting down a newly repaired circuit board, U came screeching into his quarters, demanding a cup of tea right now right away emergency, Boss!
Tony blinked at the little mousedroid. “Tea?”
Now, Boss!
“What for? It’s not like you could actually drink it.” Tony rarely drank any tea himself for that matter; only a few tins from the collection Master Jarvis used back in the day remained in his kitchen cupboard, untouched but for the rare visit from Bruce or Nat.
Need tea need tea need good tea right now right NOW Boss-!
“Alright, fine, I’m making a cup of tea!”
Pot! U practically shrieked, zipping around the human’s feet as he stood and headed for the kitchen. Best pot! Make-feel-better pot!
And like a perfectly thrown rock, clarity struck Tony right in the face. “Found somebody who needs cheering up, huh? Where?”
The mousedroid rattled off a string of coordinates, and after a beat Tony placed them as being in one of the lesser used sections of the Temple, tucked away from any windows. Perfect place for someone who wanted a little privacy for sorting through negative emotions - which would be why U wanted Tony to break out some tea in his “best” pot. One of the few material possessions actually given to him by Master Jarvis during his padawan years, which never failed to make Tony feel more at ease when he used it.
Soon enough, he put together a hastily cleared tray, with the pot of tea, two empty cups, a small bowl of candied nuts, and some more or less clean rags in case any noses needed blowing. With luck, Tony would be able to bolster the spirits of whatever youngling U had stumbled across and promptly send them back to the creche halls and, more specifically, the creche masters. Some Jedi felt their calling to care for the Order’s youngest members; Tony very much did Not.
(He’d never even taken on a padawan, despite the years since earning his Knighthood and later Mastery, but that was neither here nor there.)
U led the way, chirping cheerfully, as they headed into dusty, dimly lit corridors. Still, warmth lingered in the stones beneath Tony’s feet; sense-memories of hundreds of generations of Jedi walking the very same path, going about their business, younglings and padawans cheerfully getting underfoot. No matter where one went in the Temple, the place always echoed with the sense of home.
Which made it particularly jarring to turn a corner, and feel the mental equivalent of crashing face-first into a durasteel wall.
Guilt-grief-loss-regret, an almost overwhelming sense of could have done better SHOULD have done better, and so much spiraling uncertain fear that Tony almost choked on it. For a moment that stretched into an eternity, he felt himself back on an Outer Rim desert planet, alone but for one imprisoned scientist, and a gang of thugs who wanted secrets about the Order, who wanted words but also screams-
U warbled uncertainly, bumping against Tony’s foot. He dragged in a deep breath through his nose, and slowly, oh so slowly, let it back out between clenched teeth. Peace, knowledge, serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force.
The tray trembled once, clutched between his hands, before Tony managed to settle. He took another breath, repeating the full mantra in his head, then waded deeper into the heartbroken miasma filling the corridor.
This wasn’t just an initiate hiding while they got over a nightmare, or an argument, or a failed class assignment.
This was something significantly more serious.
Sure enough, U led him to a shadowed alcove, and when Tony squinted he could just make out a teenage-sized figure huddled in the recess. One white-knuckled hand clutched a short padawan-braid, while the other pressed tight against the kid’s mouth, muffling the choked gasps trying to escape.
Tony scuffed a slipper against the floor. Brown eyes shot open, widening as they looked up, and with a sinking feeling he realized who U had found.
A month beforehand, the entire Temple grieved over the news of a Jedi’s death in the Mid Rim. Tony couldn’t say whether or not he’d actually met Master Parker before, but he’d attended the funeral regardless, another silent presence holding vigil over the pyre. Several members of the Council gathered on one side of the courtyard, Parker’s young padawan tucked into their midst, barely visible but clearly doing his best to put on a brave face for the solemn occasion.
Huddled on the floor of the alcove, he just as clearly tried to bundle his emotions under a mental shield, to put that brave face back on, but Tony knelt before he could get very far. “Easy, kid. It’s okay. No one else down here but the two of us - you can let it out.”
The padawan stared, searching his gaze. Then something in those eyes cracked, and Tony felt the outpouring of more grief, as proper sobs began to shake the kid’s body from head to toe. He set the tray aside, scooted into the alcove himself, and reached to (carefully) rest a hand on one scrawny shoulder.
Apparently that was all the permission the kid needed to turn and duck, burying himself against Tony’s chest, letting go of his braid in order to clutch at the older human’s grease-stained robe. Startled, Tony nearly flinched away, but- But.
Emotion, yet peace.
Still moving cautiously, he curled his arms around the kid’s back. The Force continued to tremble with an overwhelming sense of misery, but to the fourteen year old’s credit, nothing physically broke: not the ancient stone walls, nor the plain porcelain teapot, even if the candied nuts did rattle a little in their bowl. A fairly impressive display for a padawan only two years into his apprenticeship, who’d likely never been in any truly dangerous situations before the one that killed his mentor.
(When he’d been rescued and brought back to the Temple, Tony’s early nightmares demolished a fair amount of medical equipment, before his closest friends helped him get a handle on things again. And that was after a full decade of harrowing missions and near-lethal encounters, which always did their best to leave marks on both his body and his psyche.)
Eventually, the sobs trailed off into hiccups, strong emotions spent. The kid sniffled a few more times, before tensing up and pulling back. Tony didn’t try to stop him. “I- I’m so sorry, Master Stark, I didn’t- I wasn’t-”
The stammering stopped when Tony practically shoved a teacup in front of the kid’s face. “It’s alright. I get it.”
Neither spoke while he poured, the kid visibly relaxing as he inhaled. With each careful breath, Tony could feel the chill seeping out of the Force, a sense of warm relief creeping back into the walls around them. When U made a quiet, inquisitive noise, the padawan looked down with a small smile. “Hi, again.”
Beeping happily, U bumped against the kid’s leg. Boss made tea, got make-feel-better pot. Feel better?
Laughing a little, U’s new friend patted it a couple of times on the front casing. “Yeah, I- I guess I do.” Tired brown eyes turned in Tony’s direction. “Thank you, Master Stark.”
Tony waved it off. “No thanks necessary, kid. I’ve been there.”
“Still...”
“Na-ah, nope, don’t start. This is just one Jedi doing a good turn for another.” That said, Tony set down his cup and picked up the bowl of nuts to offer. “So, let’s do like the droid says: get you feeling better, and back to your new master, okay?”
Just like that, the kid’s face crumpled all over again.
Apparently, going on five weeks since his master’s death, Padawan Parker still needed to find a new mentor.
“It’s just- Ben wasn’t just my master,” the kid eventually managed to explain, picking at the candied nuts but not actually eating any of them. “He was my uncle. It’s- tradition, e-every time a Parker becomes a Jedi, they’re- we’re taught by- the generation before. I- I’ve always known, since I was little, Ben was going to teach me. But now he’s- he’s gone, and no one else feels the same.”
Yeah. Not a great place for an orphaned padawan to be in. Especially one already dealing with grief and guilt, who’d tried to ignore a growing sense of inadequacy and the looming fear of never finding a new master, until it all became too much and he’d sought out a quiet alcove to cry without anyone else noticing.
Tony sighed, tipping his head back against the stone wall behind him. “I’m sorry, kiddo. I could rattle off the mantra and quote the traditional sayings, but speaking from personal experience, those don’t really help until after you stop feeling like you’re stuck in a constant spiral.”
“...you mean like- like when the Ten Rings captured you?”
It took a long, contemplative moment before Tony answered. “If we were only talking about lingering trauma, then yeah. But that- that hole in your chest, where there always used to be someone, and then they’re suddenly gone and you don’t know how anyone else could possibly fill the space again- if anyone would even want to try-” He paused to take a deep breath. Ignorance, yet knowledge. “I’ve been there.”
Judging from Padawan Parker’s wide-eyed stare, he probably wasn’t going to get away without elaborating.
So. For the first time in, oh, thirty-odd years, Tony talked about his father. The once-great Jedi Master Howard Stark, member of the High Council, strong candidate to become leader of the entire Order - at least until it came out that he’d secretly married a woman from his home planet, fathered a child strong in the Force, and proceeded to train the kid without ever bringing him to the Temple. When Master Jarvis found out, he’d personally launched the investigation into Howard’s multiple trespasses, and almost single-handedly fought for ten-year-old Tony to be inducted into the Order as an Initiate.
“I didn’t exactly make it easy for him, being half out of my mind with fear at the time. I mean- I went from being so certain of how the galaxy worked, only to get my entire life yanked out from under me in a single day. What kid wouldn’t be terrified?”
Especially when it became obvious he’d been tainted by association. Other younglings hesitated before approaching him, senior padawans and young knights would whisper behind his back, and most damning of all, not a single master so much as hinted at taking on his education. Tony tried not to let any of it affect him too much; tried to maintain a constant smile even while caught in the shadow of his father’s disgrace.
Then Jarvis came back to the Temple.
“He’d been my father’s friend for years,” Tony murmured, remembering how the man’s stern expression seemed to melt away the instant he knelt down in front of a very nervous ten year old. “I thought for sure he’d hate me, blame me for ruining their relationship, but- nope. Zero hesitation when he offered to take me on, either. And- Jarvis never quite filled the hole left when I had to leave my mom behind, but that was okay. We were okay.” Shifting a little, he glanced down at the teenager still seated beside him. “You’ll be okay too, kid. Yeah, no one’s felt like the right fit yet, but that just means the Force has someone special in mind to be your new teacher.”
Padawan Parker dragged in a shaky breath, before slowly nodding. It didn’t quite feel like acceptance, but rather- an acknowledgement. Maybe he couldn’t quite believe it yet, but he’d at least received the message.
Which left Tony in the uncomfortable position of not knowing what to do next.
Thankfully, U chose that moment to pipe up, drawing attention to its indicator light slowly blinking yellow. “Ready for a recharge, buddy?”
Naaap, U warbled.
“Gonna make it back to our quarters on your own?”
...maaaybe.
“Right,” Tony groaned, unfolding his legs and rising. “Kid, mind carrying my lazy droid for me?”
“Oh- sure!” Parker scrambled to his feet, scooping up U along the way. Tony gathered the cups and tray, then set off back the way he’d come an hour and a bit earlier. “Um... Master Stark?”
“Mm?”
“Do you really have a whole droid-construction workshop in your quarters?”
Kid turned out to be something of a fanboy. Passion, yet serenity, Tony needed to remind himself, when they arrived at his quarters and Parker started asking excited questions left, right, and center.
Still. He didn’t mind introducing the kid to the rest of his droids, maybe showing off, just a little. Butterfingers popped up pretty easily, singular optic sensor looking Parker up and down before the pit droid lost interest and folded in on himself again. DUM-E took a little more coaxing to come out, but eventually the astromech rolled into the open, and proceeded to shyly trail after the newcomer as they wandered through Tony’s stacks of equipment and spare parts.
His protocol droid FRIDAY woke up long enough to exchange pleasant greetings and remind Tony he still needed to eat dinner, which made him rather hastily encourage her to power down again. And last but not least, the probe droid he’d most recently been putting together, who hovered closer and closer until finally dropping to sit on Parker’s shoulder. He honestly seemed delighted by the development, so Tony didn’t bother trying to shoo the little thing back to his primary workbench.
“KR-3N,” he said, when the kid asked for a designation. “Haven’t settled on a nickname yet-”
“Karen,” Parker promptly suggested, only to turn red-faced when he realized he’d interrupted.
Tony couldn’t really say he minded. “You good with that, KR?” The probe droid trilled in reply. “Alright, Karen it is. Now come on, kid, the really cool stuff is over here...”
Later, after introducing Parker to his assortment of modified lightsabers and sharing a quick meal and diving back into the workshop, Tony got a call from Rhodey. “Sorry, Tones, but Master Fury needs extra hands for a search through the lower levels.”
“What’s wrong? Intruders?”
“Opposite problem. You remember Ben Parker’s padawan? Kid’s been missing for hours-”
Tony blinked at the small hologram of his best friend. “He’s with me.” Holo-Rhodey’s eyebrows both shot up. “My mousedroid found him a while ago and badgered me into fixing the kid a pot of tea. Came back to my quarters with me, after, and we’ve been tinkering.” Apparently longer than Tony realized, because glancing at his chrono revealed it to be several hours later than he’d thought. Turning around, he needed to bite back a snort.
His sofa didn’t really have room to sit, covered in piles of trays with small miscellaneous items, but Padawan Parker had sat down next to it and managed to lean his head back onto the one little clear spot. Faint snores drifted out of his open mouth, and the little probe droid rested in his cupped hands.
“Aaand he’s asleep,” Tony whispered. “Tell Fury to call off the search, I’ll make sure Parker gets back to where he needs to be in the morning.”
Rhodey didn’t respond, instead leveling an extremely judgemental and entirely uncalled for Look at Tony. He hastily cut off the call before any lecturing could start.
After that, there only remained the question of what exactly to do with the kid.
Tony didn’t have a quest room in his quarters - even if there was one, he’d probably have used it for further storage. So, with some careful use of the Force, he cleared off the sofa and lifted Parker up onto it, so silently and gently the kid never woke up. Only as Tony draped a slightly singed blanket did the padawan stir: he mumbled something incomprehensible, caught the thick fabric with his fingers, and curled up into a tight ball.
Tony felt something twist oddly in his chest. He ended up staying in the same room for a long while, instead of heading off to his own bed.
(The Force hummed, content.)