Summary: Qui-Gon goes to comfort Obi-Wan after Anakin's fall.
Feedback: please, do.
Notes: This was originally written as a favor for a now
defunct zine last summer, so I'm sharing it with y'all. Not
implied slash or pre- slash this time, which I seem to tend
toward, actual slash. (if you know me, that means something
*g*)
Thanks: It's been a while, but Kim and James were the two who
betaed this fic, at the time what felt like to death ;)
Disclaimer: If I owned 'em, Obi wouldn't grow that beard till
Ep3... ;) Making no money here. Move along.
I find myself standing beside a window in a small, dirty room
and wonder briefly in what part of the galaxy I am. When I see
the man who lays in front me, I find that I do not care where I
am, or why. He's tangled in ratty sheets, highlighted by a
shaft of moonlight arcing through the grimy window. That pale
iridescence serves only to draw attention to his
strife-sharpened contours.
Unaware of my presence, the man to whom I gave my heart -- and
indeed my soul -- great many years before, slumbers on unaware.
I am tucked away in the shadows, standing safely where he
cannot see me. And, either gift or curse though it may be,
neither can he feel me standing so near.
I was drawn to this place, a nameless planet in an overlooked
quadrant, as I often am -- by him. My love has fought so long
to ignore and push away his feelings. It is only here, and now,
on the eve of a great journey that begins with the end of
everything either of us held dear, that the emotions which have
long struggled to surface are finally doing so.
How greatly things have changed since I left him behind.
Looking at the beloved face before me, it is as if I can view a
monument to those changes in the lines around his eyes. His
youthful features, which so often held a smile just for me, are
wary and worn.
He moves in his sleep, rough, jerky movements that tangle the
thin sheets that are draped over his body. I know of his pain
-- the fate of Anakin mere weeks before and the uncertainty of
Amidala's unborn children. And yet those would seem
inconsequential to some compared to the rise of a blackness
that threatens to tear the galaxy apart a system at a time. My
love has borne all of these trials, undeterred if never
unmoved, with a strength that will forever make me proud.
When I was alive, I fought and bent the Code when it was his
best interest that was at heart. Yet since my fall, I feel as
though I've done little more than stand idly by. There were
times I failed him, hurt him, and he me. From these times came
a devotion I never dreamed I might know. All the proof I needed
was the look in his eyes when we would lay together, safe and
warm in one another's arms.
Now, after years of separation, forced and yet not always so,
I am not quite as willing to acquiesce to rules or code. My
love has been tempered by fire, and there is far more to come.
I blink quickly, as a plan comes to mind.
When he once again tosses in his sleep, I move from my
shadowed space near the window. A half dozen steps and I am
next to the tattered bed where I fall forward onto my knees and
into a familiar resting position.
He stirs, but doesn't wake and I smile faintly. I reach out,
and am surprised to see my hand shaking as I touch his cheek
lightly. The sensation is eerily similar to that I felt as I
lay dying in his arms.
Somehow it is as surprising to me as it must be to him when he
opens his eyes. I feel something inside me clench when those
green eyes open and I want to fall within their depths. A shaky
smile pulls at my lips, and I'm filled with a sense of purpose
and power that I have not known in a very long time.
His mouth opens, closes and opens again. Suddenly he moves to
sit up, pulling away as he does so. A lance of pain tears at my
heart, but even while it does, I understand his reaction. I
have been gone from his life for so long, while he has not been
missing from mine, that his doubt is more than expected.
I dropped my hand when he pulled his cheek out from under my
touch with his movement. When I finally feel him seeping into
the Force around me, I grasp those tendrils of emotion so long
denied to me. His confusion and hesitance pulls at me. A
sadness fills me at that and I close my eyes briefly, wanting
nothing more than to ease away the pain.
Even still, underneath the conflicting emotions I can feel his
trust in me. It is himself he does not trust -- he wants to
believe but does not believe what his own eyes show. Oh, my
Obi-Wan, if I might have been able to spare you such doubts.
Smiling, I try to hold onto my vaunted Jedi patience -- at
least what little of it remains now that I have another chance
to hold my love. My time with him is so very short, but I can't
speak. For all the emotions churning within me, I feel just as
much from him. Besides this, I know my padawan; he needs to
make the first move.
His eyes search my own almost frantically and after several
long moments I feel a sensation I haven't known since I fell to
the Sith. When his mind reaches out to mine, I scramble to
lessen the vast shields I have developed during my many visits
to his side. When I at last feel the familiar tingle of our
bond, so much greater than the impressions I felt moments
before, my eyes clinch shut and burn. It is true that those who
pass into the Force no longer have bodies, but the sensations
-- laughter, tears -- they remain.
His eyes widen, and I easily feel the trepidation and doubt
slide away. When he finally finds his voice, it is rough with
sleep and tears.
"How? Why?" He blinks quickly, daring a glance around the room
before again staring straight into my soul. "Why now?"
I need to soothe the pain from his features, but for the
moment I remain where I am. Close enough to touch, but not. "No
longer could I ignore your pain for the sake of duty." I am
surprised, for some reason, to find my own voice -- years
removed from true use -- unchanged.
For a moment he looks as if he will not believe me. "Duty.
Always duty." There is an edge to his voice that I have long
known, and never liked. Again he looks away before pulling his
knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. He
sits perfectly still for a long moment before moving in a
sudden flurry of movement outward as if he suddenly cannot
stand living in his own skin.
"Have you any idea what it is truly like to live, now, alone
in Palpatine's empire?" Obi-Wan punctuates the words by
flinging his arms out beside him, gesturing around the room,
his voice so low I can barely hear him -- almost a growl.
I nod, recognizing the strain his living as the last of the
Jedi in his unsteady voice. "I am sorry that it fell upon you,
my love, to face such misery. Yet in no other could I, nor
anyone, find the faith to believe the man to be far ahead of
the task. You are a great Jedi, Obi-Wan."
He doesn't respond, once more pulling in on himself, but I
know he has heard me. "I have tried to be what you wanted me to
be. Yet with Anakin I still failed, and it is everyone else who
will live and die to pay for my folly."
He takes an unsteady breath, self-deprecation is pouring off
of him in waves and I reach out instinctively to soothe him. He
presses on, his eyes turning icy. "We are alike in the most
horrible of ways, now, Qui-Gon. We have each lost an
apprentice." I fight a wince at his mention of Xanatos, but
that pain is far removed now. It is the man who sits before me,
suffering his own loss, who saved me from that pain. After a
long moment's pause, he continues speaking, his voice bitter.
"Only my failure will wreak his vengeance upon a much grander
scale."
The fall of Anakin is far too recent to expect Obi-Wan not to
feel it's wrath. I recall far too easily the abysmal result my
former Padawan's turn caused within me. However, under the
circumstances, my legacy is bearing onward far better than
I.
"We each play a role, my Obi-Wan. If there is fault to be had,
it lies far more easily with me than it does with you." He
flinches, wrapping his arms around up drawn knees, but doesn't
try to share the blame. My padawan has not been the youth I
helped raise for many years, and this silence only serves to
remind me. "The endless expanse of the Force allows retrospect
with some clarity, my love. It is indeed possible that each of
us were powerless to stop the plays of fate upon us all."
He is silent, and I reach out and lay my hand on top of his
feet -- the sensation a shadow of the physical connection I
remember and crave whenever I cannot have it. All is silent,
broken only by the soft breaths Obi-Wan takes. I am
contemplating what I might say next, to try and make things
better, when he speaks.
"I've missed you." Obi-Wan meets my eyes, and the need to hold
him magnifies exponentially with the act. Before I can think, I
am beside him on the small bed. He reaches out a hesitant hand,
touching my face. I see the faint blue glow of my cloak against
the pale white of his tunic, but pay it little heed as I pull
him into my arms.
A long sigh escapes me when my love falls into my embrace, his
arms wrapped tightly around my chest. I have no idea if Force
ghosts should be able to feel anything on this plane, but I am
not fool enough to waste precious time thinking about it.
The bristle of his beard scratches at my throat, and I cannot
help but smile. The sight of my Obi-Wan with a beard is still a
surprise even after several years. Although I've watched as he
changed, in my heart he will forever be my youthful
Padawan.
"And you will always be my Master, Qui-Gon." His whisper is
amusing at the same time it is surprising. That he could read
my thoughts now, is fitting in a way.
I run a hand along his hair, all the while holding him tighter
with the other. The emotions that are surrounding us both are
primal -- each of us needing and taking from the other as much
as we possibly can.
"I have always been with you," I say, breaking the magical
silence that had enveloped us. "I always shall, my love."
He pulls back, searching my gaze. "I've dreamt about you. That
you were nearby, watching over me. I used to wake, first
hopeful and then sad that it was but a dream. Cruel tricks
dreams can play. Sometimes I would dream that you were near,
seeing me and An . . ." He swallows, unable to continue and I
cup his cheek in my hand. Of all the pains I've been forced to
watch him endure, this torment is the last I would have wished
upon anyone -- most especially him.
I try to smile, but the effort is unsteady at best. Rubbing my
thumb along his cheekbone, I lean forward and brush my lips
against Obi-Wan's, a hesitant fleeting touch. Pursuing the
contact, he presses his mouth more insistently against mine.
Sighing softly, his tongue slips into my mouth before quickly
retreating, mine follows in a familiar dance.
When the kiss ends, his forehead leans forward to rest against
my own. I am forced to close my eyes when he says, "Stay with
me. Here. Now. Don't leave again."
Oh, my Obi-Wan, how I wish that might be so. "This stolen time
is all that we might have now. Be it for better or for worse, I
am with you now. In this moment."
"Live in the moment," he says, a hint of his familiar smart
aleck smile turning his lips all the while a bright moisture
shines in his eyes. "Never were truer words spoken than in
this moment, Qui-Gon."
I smile, unable not to do so. "It would appear that you have
taken my lessons to heart, although you were rather slow to
warm to the idea of that particular adage before."
"Never before had I known a single moment into which I would
gladly fall and never return." What power of thought I had held
onto was lost to me with his heartfelt statement. "Only now --
in this moment -- is there such thing as a single span in time
which is worth living in forever."
It was always possible to read Obi-Wan's heart in his eyes, so
expressive were the swirling depths, but never more so than
while he was speaking those words. My own soul warmed at the
passion in those eyes.
Rather than allow me to reply, he again pressed his mouth to
mine, his tongue tracing the very edge of my lower lip before I
opened my mouth and allowed him inside. One of us moaned
softly, but I cannot say for certain which. When the kiss was
but lingering, I drew his lower lip into my mouth, unwilling to
let go just yet.
The kiss, as all must, ended and when I once more stared into
his gaze he seemed resolved and yet as determined as I ever
remember him being. "Let us live in the moment, my Qui-Gon." He
took my hands in his own, tracing the backs with his thumbs.
"For as long as this moment may last, let us waste no time on
regrets."
And so, we live in the moment. I nod, slipping one hand from
the soft grasp and touch his face. "I do love you, my Obi-Wan."
My voice is a rough whisper, scratchy to my own ears.
His eyes shimmer with unshed tears. Seconds pass before he
starts to say something, before thinking better of it. Instead,
Obi-Wan pauses, brushing his lips across mine. "As I do you,"
he finally says, his warm breath fanning across my face. "I
never stopped, even when I thought you truly gone from my
life."
"I will never be truly gone." Pulling him into my arms once
more, he presses his face into my chest. Completing the motion,
I press my cheek against his hair. "No matter what may lie
ahead, you will never be alone, my love."
He presses a kiss to my chest, at the juncture of my tunics,
and I kiss the top of his head. "I will do my best, Qui-Gon.
Still, I would much prefer to see you." He pauses, turning just
enough to look up in my eyes while hugging me tighter. "To hold
you. I always loved most simply being able to hold you."
Again I kiss him, exploring his mouth slowly, breaking only
when I know Obi-Wan needs to breathe. One advantage for me, I
suppose -- breathing isn't required now. "It would seem that,
to some extent, I have been fortunate these past years." He
looks confused, the burrow between his brows creasing. I smile,
and brush my finger over the well-known indention. "Ages before
I longed to hold you in my arms, I would watch you sleep. The
love and pride of a parent in time turned to the love and pride
of a man, but during both, I watched you sleep."
He titled his head to the side at my words. Twining his leg
between mine, he pulls us closer, though I would have doubted
it possible before. "They weren't dreams, were they? You were
there."
I smile -- unsurprised at this turn of events. "Yes, my love.
You must have somehow known I was there. As I said, never were
you alone. Whenever you needed someone, I was anywhere you
might be. I often watched upon your slumber, and longed for you
to know of my presence."
"Will I wake tomorrow and find this to be just another dream?"
He nuzzles my neck and I sigh softly.
I blink, unsure what the Force might make so. I take a deep
breath, and find myself hoping that he will be proven wrong. He
glances up at me, waiting for my answer. "I hope not, my love.
But this, as everything else, is subject to the will of the
Force."
He nods, and I recognize his expression as begrudging
acceptance. "As it is always, so it would seem."
At some point words become unnecessary, and we are content
simply to hold one another. We lay along the bed, facing one
another with legs and arms tangled. I find myself relishing his
solid presence next to me as much -- or more -- than I ever
did. Hands reach out, touching and stroking, kisses are pressed
against whatever skin is within reach.
Neither of us risks closing our eyes, wanting to see as well
as feel everything we can. I recognize the cloudy green of his
eyes whenever my hands stray over a sensitive spot. We aren't
relearning one another -- we know one another. It is as if the
time that has past was days, not years.
Even with our limited time, nothing is rushed nor taken for
granted. The passing of that time is marked by nothing more
than his heartbeat and steady breathing. Those same breaths are
how I begin to realize that he will soon be unable to stay
awake, no matter how hard he is trying.
His eyes are staying closed longer each time he blinks, and
his mouth is parted with unwanted slumber. I smile, brushing a
lock of hair away from his forehead.
The hurried and chaotic events of the past weeks and months
have taken a toll on my love, leaving him drained and weary. I
know it is not willingly that he would sleep now, but rather
that his body is winning the fight against his mind.
"I find that I do not want to say good bye," he says, fighting
the sleep that longs to overtake him. He closes his eyes for a
moment, and I press a feather light kiss to each eyelid. "Good
bye is too final."
Running a hand along his back, I seek to help soothe him
somewhat. I cannot help feeling much the same. "Then we shall
say good night, not good bye." Pressing my lips to his chin, he
sighs drowsily before sharing another soft kiss.
"Good night it shall be then." One hand is wrapped in my robe,
the other touches my face briefly as a single tear tracks down
his cheek. "I love you." The breath from his words tickles my
cheek.
As sleeps hold finally takes him, I kiss his forehead and wipe
the moisture from his face. "And I you."
There is little night left, and I find myself holding onto him
until the bright pink streaks of dawn blot out the moonlight,
filling the room with the daylight's brilliance. For what time
I have left, I embrace him. Watching him sleep peacefully in my
arms, I am searching as if to memorize his face.
"Remember," I whisper, knowing somehow he will hear my words.
"You may not see me, but you are never alone."
The familiar sounds of early morning outside the window are
beginning to pick up when I release my hold on Obi-Wan. I
carefully move from the bed, and draw the covers over him. I
have time for one last kiss pressed to his lips before I begin
to fade.
A lone tear falls as I slip from this realm and return once
more to whence I came.
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