Past and present converge in an instant of frozen time.
Do you remember?
The first time we met, the first time we spoke? That first
touch? The first time you kissed me, the first time I dared to
kiss you? The way you sighed under my hands, the way I shivered
under yours?
Your wisdom and gentle strength were my happiness. Everything I
ever worked for and excelled at was all for you. Each
accomplishment was followed by an immediate look to you, for
the nod and slight smile that gave my soul wings.
Was that why I failed, because it was all for you and not
myself?
Not all of it was. The times we spent together, away from the
prying eyes and foolish prejudices of others, they were all for
me.
The last time we had together, are you thinking of that? When I
was still awake, late that night, too sick with fear to sleep,
too nervous to shake. The light touch of your hand calmed me
and I smiled then. Your eyes were so understanding as you
touched my face. You'd also faced the Council for the 'first
time' before, I knew, but what surprised me was when you
confessed to still feeling that same trepidation every time you
went before them.
I laughed then, at you, at myself, at the foolishness of it
all. Your laughter joined mine, twining with it as our bodies
had done before. Your hand tightened on my shoulder, a
butterfly touch that became a shadow heavier for an instant.
What you offered in your touch, I accepted in mine. Comfort,
confidence, conviction.
Of course, when we undressed each other, all those lofty ideals
fled. The image of candlelight playing over your skin and the
flex of your muscles was the most beautiful thing I'd ever
seen. Even now, nothing compares.
You shuddered when my fingers tangled in your hair, carefully
working out the knots that not even you and your knowledge of
the living force can keep loose. You leaned into my hands, your
eyes closed and a smile on your lips. I swear you purred.
I leaned forward then, oh so lightly touching my mouth to
yours. You breathed my name, the one time has forgotten, and
pulled me to you. My hands tightened in your hair and your
hands skimmed automatically to my head to do the same. Our eyes
opened and we laughed at my lack.
And when you traced the lines of my body with your fingertips,
I twisted and moaned for more. To this day, I can't remember
how or when we lay down, but the echoes of my shameless begging
still haunt me, chased by the singed image of the love in your
gaze. Each sweep of your hands gave me a little more courage
and when you finally entered me, my shout of joy was laced with
defiance. Let the Council do what they will!
Passion, bliss, ecstasy, all lost their meanings. They were
twisted, turned around, flipped upside down, torn apart, thrown
back together, redefined. Every concept re-formed into a single
word.
Master.
For a long time I'd believed you had failed me. Now I wonder
just whose failure had formed destiny.
All of this goes through my mind as I pull my saber from your
body.
The apprentice in me shrieks. It babbles insanely and I want to
rush forward. I want to catch you before you fall. I want to
somehow undo everything I've done.
Behind us, your padawan gives voice to the scream I keep
inside.
Qui-Gon.
Your name dances before me, molded from the empty gold of
yesterday's promises.
Recognition crosses your face as you finally look past your own
anger and fear to see beyond the face tattoo and robes I wear
to hide the blackness of my soul. You see me once again.
Is it as much of a shock for you as seeing you on Tatooine was
for me? Your eyes hold mine, full of shadows too deep and dark
for even me to dare, and in them I see a flicker of the
absolution I've needed for so long.
Was this what you foresaw when the Council refused my
knighthood? That sadness has been in your face ever since we
met. Did you know then?
Have I always been your sorrow?
What was it I've hungered to destroy? Was it their refusal,
their view of me? My bitterness? Or was it the disappointment
in your eyes when I turned from you? And why couldn't I ask
these questions years ago?
My hate and fury drain away as you fall and I feel suddenly
weary. This battle, this physical manifestation of my own
conflict with what has been was all for myself. At last, too
late, I wonder just what it was I needed to prove.
I turn to face the living flame of vengeance the young one has
become. My heart darkens again to see in his features the anger
that undid me. What did you teach him, my old beloved master?
Has he learned how to let go without losing himself?
As the forcewall disappears, I wonder if it matters any more.
The saber that stole your life and with it my joy comes up to
meet the attack. Your teachings are still with me, master, only
overlaid by the path I've walked and those reflexes take over.
A part of me marvels at his fire and mine, at the deadly beauty
of our fighting. You've taught him well, perhaps better than
you taught me.
But he is still a boy. Almost before I realize it, he is at my
mercy. And he knows it. I see it in his eyes, in the desperate
glance at you, looking as I once did for the strength found in
the faintest of your smiles.
But you are dead, and soon so will he. A despair I'd never
realized I was holding back shatters the world around me as the
irrevocability of my actions sink in. I suppose in some small
corner, I'd always hoped you could bring me back from my folly.
Even now, I still want to turn to you for guidance, assurance,
safety. Approval.
Love.
I see the movement to my right, a movement that matches a
twitch in the Force. For a single, eclipsing bright moment, I
have the hope you still live.
Then I see your lightsaber fly across and your apprentice leaps
out of the shaft to catch it and twist into somersault over my
head all in the same motion. Amazing! His grace is
breathtaking, Qui-Gon, as much as yours had ever been. It's a
grace and balance that goes far beyond the physical, far beyond
me.
Seeing him move with more purpose, less uncontrolled emotion, I
know no matter what happens, your last apprentice will not fall
and he will never give up. His spirit and your guidance will
save him from the darkness that took me.
I admire your final legacy.
I am faster and stronger. I have learned under a pitiless man
who mocks the concept of mercy. Despite all you have given him,
it is not enough for this student to prevail against the one
who murdered his teacher.
I can see the blow before he delivers it, the exact angle and
speed. It will be easy to deflect. All of his anger and grief
and hate is in this and he has no way to recover should it
miss.
In one blink of forever, I decide. For penance, for grief, for
the chance to see your smile once more, I will not block his
final strike.
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