Warnings: Follows that nasty little piece of canon *g*.
I should probably also warn that I have only a tentative grasp
of broader canon and fanon *g*.
Archival: Fabulae and Master & Apprentice are welcome to it
- all others just ask :-)
Feedback: Nice but not compulsory *g*.
Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas, if you could see the amount of Star Wars
merchandise in my bedroom, you would realise that I have
absolutely no money for you to sue out of me. Perhaps you'd be
interested in a slightly used copy of "I Am A Jedi" instead???
Some nights it feels as though the sun may never rise again.
When I lie alone in my bed it is as though the darkness that
surrounds me is slowly closing in about my body. In the daytime
I can almost fool myself into believing that the chilly touch
of a gentle breeze is the gentle caress of his large hands.
Once the sun sets, however, a breeze is just a breeze once more
and the only chill seems to be that in my heart.
It's funny how memories can take on an almost physical form at
times. There are moments when it is only the faintest grasp on
reality that prevents me from truly believing that he is at my
side. When the sun is shining, I can close my eyes and his arms
are around me, holding me tightly and protecting me from the
world and from the truth of what has passed.
When the sun shines, I can almost fool myself into believing
that one day I shall be happy again.
When the world around me sleeps, however, make-believe no
longer brings me comfort. In dreams my master takes on
nightmarish form and in darkness-shrouded wakefulness there is
no lie strong enough to take away the pain. I dare not sleep
and I dare not remain awake. It is when I lie alone in the bed
that once we shared that the choice between living and dying
becomes so blurred.
After all, am I really alive without him?
I move and I breath but I am not really here. I ceased to
exist when Qui-Gon joined the force. This body is no more than
a gutted shell. My heart and my soul died when he did.
There is no death, there is the force……
What if everything I have always known to be the truth is, in
reality, no more true than the childhood legends that Annakin
so trustingly passes on to me on his return to our rooms each
evening? Why speak of the code when it is such an intangible
notion? I have spent my all of the life I can remember
following an unwritten rulebook. And yet now I begin to doubt.
It was the code that brought Qui-Gon into my wretched
life…… and it was the code that snatched him away
from me while our love was barely more than the freshest bud.
Sometimes I hate the code. Especially when the world is dark.
I have come to equate darkness with loneliness in my mind.
When I retire to my rooms, with only the company of a child to
comfort me, it can feel as though I am all alone in the world.
The kind words passed my way during the daylight hours are
forgotten as the shadows stalk me. It is then that I realise I
will never truly feel whole again without him beside me. It is
all too easy to succumb to optimism when the sun warms its way
through to the shattered remnants of my heart. Only when the
day's warmth fades do I accept the truth.
Archive 