Spoilers: A few veiled ones for upcoming events in the Mystic
Universe
Summary: For Archivists' Day, inspired by Galadriel's
"Musings". Tilt's POV of the Muse.
Feedback: One can never get enough of a good thing.
Disclaimer: Ben, Kee and Yoda belong to George. I have no
intention of interfering with George's racket. Please make all
checks and money orders payable to LucasFilm. If you want to
feed the author, send Diet Coke.
Note: As this is in the Mystics Universe AU, "Kee" is Qui-Gon,
Ben is Ben.
"It must be some sort of mindtrick George hasn't gotten around
to showing us yet," I muttered darkly at my screen as I stuffed
another half dozen Cheetos Zig Zags in my mouth.
A snort of a laugh from the bed beside me. "Hardly. I don't
think an artistic calling is a mindtrick."
"Explain the obssession then, Ben." I gestured at the skeletal
shell of my computer beside me, the scattered lists of names
and the Episode 1 scrapbooks on the floor just under the bed.
"This has been going on non-stop, and I do mean non-stop, since
May 14th! It's never happened this way before, it's never been
this demanding, and there was no break in the middle like
usual. My last book I ran out of gas in the middle and didn't
write a word on it for six months. With you guys it's been
Write or Suffer for almost six solid months!"
Crystalline blue eyes blinked at me from what was usually my
favorite pillow as he rolled onto his side, absently unhooking
his lightsaber as he rolled over onto it. Great Vairochana hear
me, the man is too damned good looking and it's been too damned
long and if he doesn't quit looking at me like this there just
may be a fourth in their lifebond because I'll be all over him.
"Tell me again about that little alien."
"He ain't an alien. He's a muse." I jerked a thumb back at the
closed and duct-tape secured closet door behind me. "Half a
meter tall, green, big ears--"
"YODA?!?"
"No, I think it's his evil twin."
From the closet came, "Damn ye, woman, let me owt! Ye knows ye
needs me! Who's gan tae help ye keep all the dratted plot lines
straight?"
I groaned. "See what I mean? Evil twin. Complete with bad
Scottish accent." The little gremlin was pounding on the door
now. "Hey, Stoopid, shut yer mouth and lay off the drum solo!"
I snapped at the closet.
"Aye, woman, ye'll suffer for that one! Ye want to get done by
December? Ha! I'll have ye grovelling at yer keyboard til
ChattaCon!"
"Noooo!" I groaned again, "I have my outline planned, no more
damned detours, no Great Ideas! Gods, Ben, last time I heard
that threat I ended up changing my mind so Kee could live!"
A raised eyebrow and a grin and that infernally wonderous man
on my bed rolled over onto his back, staring up at my ceiling.
Gods tie me to my damned chair. "I thought that was my idea.
Will be my idea. Whatever."
"It IS your idea," I confirmed. "Mister Determination."
"Mister Too Much In Love to Let Them Die," Ben amended, a true
smile spreading softly over his face as he thought of his
lifemates, both of whom were at the moment cuddling in my
living room watching that recent PBS special George did with
Bill Moyers. Then, Buddha bless the man, he turned that smiling
gaze on me again. "Anyway, back to the lecture. This compulsion
you've been under is natural, it's in no way harmful, it's--"
"The Force, I know," I finished. "I've known that ...for
several months now." I turned away from those eyes to peer at
the familiar landscape of WordPad. Gods. Diet Coke. I need Diet
Coke. I swigged half my drink before I could look back at him
nervously. "Is it this strong for you guys? Ben, I can't hardly
do the stuff I need to for living, I've become a recluse, I've
withdrawn from even those few I consider friends. Not that they
seem to care all that much, but I know it's not healthy. I
resent going to work, last week I put off washing clothes for a
week because I didn't want to leave the computer. Between you
three and the list, I'm a wreck. This CAN'T be good or
healthy."
Those incredible eyes went serious again and for a moment
seemed to lose focus on me. I heard the sound cut off in the
living room and a second later Kee and Theri came in and
flopped on the bed, Theri crawling up to cuddle up with Ben and
Kee sitting on the edge of the bed just behind me.
"What you have been feeling these last six months is a common
reaction for those who are Force-talented and possessed of a
strong artistic talent," Kee explained slowly. "And yes, it can
become unhealthy if it is not controlled, just as any talent
with the Force can become unhealthy without discipline.
Artistic talents come from the spirit, as does your sense of
the Force. You have simply learned how to connect with the
Force in such a way that it feeds into your writing talent.
Thus, the compulsion."
"That's not the word I would use, Master Kee," I muttered.
"This is all George's fault."
A gentle laugh from Kee and another set of steady, bottomless
blue eyes were trained on me. "I think not. Think on your
Master's words."
Dr. Campbell. "Follow your bliss. That's the only thing that's
kept me from running back to the shrink. Faith in what Dr.
Campbell said."
"Trust in the Force," Kee said with a slight shrug. "It's the
same, no matter the words. All you need do is follow this to
the end. All else will work itself out."
Well, he IS a Jedi Master. "What about the trouble I'm having
with you two--"
Kee and Ben traded a look that I could only interpret as
'laughing-joy'. "That's you're own problem," Ben said
distractedly. "We're living our lives, it's up to you to face
your own insecurities."
Because obviously these two nits weren't going to make anything
easy for me in the Sex Scene department. I sighed and looked at
Theri for help, but she was peering at me with a challenging
amused look. No help there. "Damnit, you three, I don't DO sex
scenes! Either in RL or in my writing!"
"A great pity," Kee rumbled, still having a target lock on Ben.
"Should I leave you three alone?" I muttered at them crossly.
Laughs and smiles then, and the rising current of sexual energy
vanished.
"Hey! Let me owt! Damn ye, woman, let me owt!" came from the
closet door behind me.
"So what do I do with the demon?" I asked. "I tried Fed-Exing
him to Maul but the cat came back."
"You will not like this," Kee said with a smile, "But you must
keep him."
"Oh no. Oh no, don't you dare say that--"
Ben's grin was all teasing now. "If you get rid of him, Kee and
I will have to let our self-control slip in some very public
place. Say, the showers on the training level of the Temple. Or
on the terrace in our new apartment where Maul can see us.
Or--"
"No! I'll keep the damned muse!" I put my head down on my
wrist-rest and prayed for Vairochana to give me strength. "If I
keep the muse will you three let me do Chicken-Outs for the
rest of the sex scenes?"
Another three-way smouldering look between them. "Maybe. But
don't count on it."
"Have fun, dear," Theri said with a farewell wiggle of her
fingers. And the three vanished.
"Damn. Damn damn damn," I muttered again. Getting up, I went to
undo the duct tape and the little green demon bounded out of
the closet like a rabid rubber ball.
Jumping to his accustomed place on top of my screen, he waved
his drumsticks around my head as I sat back down morosely. "Nae
then, lass, back to work with ye!" Streamers of light wove from
the drumsticks around my head and I felt the compulsion take
hold again. "Who needs sleep, I ask ye, lass? Not you! Finish
that scene!"
"Just remember I have class tomorrow."
"Aye, I'll give ye three hours rest."
"Whatta relief. Make yourself useful and fetch me another Diet
Coke."
"Whot do I look like, yer butler? Fetch it yerself!"
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