Archive: M/A, SWAL, JediHurtaholics okay, anywhere else, please
ask me first, so I can visit! :-)
Disclaimer: George Lucas & Co. owns these delicious boyz
and I own nothing. So suing me for playing with them is a
serious waste of precious legal resources. Right? Of course I'm
right.
Summary: A battle, a discovery ... and the need for hope.
Feedback: Yes, please! dbkate2@aol.com
Notes: At end of fic.
Obi-Wan was losing the battle.
He didn't have the inspiration at the ready, no longer held the
necessary tools of desire. Flailing blindly with his saber, the
Force was lost to him this time, fleeting like a ghost away
from his grasp.
He was ... tired.
But, still, Obi-Wan fought. Fought as he'd been trained to for
the better half of his short life. With everything that he was,
for he was still a Knight. Newly made, shorn but one year
before, but still ... a Knight.
And he refused to die on his knees.
The Sith he fought wasn't weakening by any stretch of the
imagination. If anything he was growing stronger, feeding on
the younger Jedi's hopelessness and anger.
Feeding on the hopelessness that brought him to this wilderness
planet in the first place. The brooding misery of a fathomless
loss that still plagued him ... and the failure at bonding with
the child whom he'd promised to train. He'd been wandering, in
the Force as well as the flesh and this no doubt had invited
the trouble he now found himself in.
Fighting the Darkness and losing.
He fought desperately, knowing that he was finished, parrying
strikes that came closer and closer to breaking through his
guard.
Then it happened. He failed to block the strike, the other's
blade burnt the side of his neck with agonizing pain and he
ducked, fell to his knees to scrabble for his blade, but it
slipped from his fingers as he tried to evade a lethal thrust
that charred a hole in his tunic and seared him again. Near
fainting, he knew. He was finished. He was going to die. And on
his knees after all, he told himself bitterly, dizzy and sick
with pain, then....
A whip's crack in the Force, shocking enough to make him look
skyward, strong enough to rock the foundation of his soul and
tear him further from consciousness. The world greyed out, he
heard the clash of lightsabers as from a vast distance,
wondered if he were hallucinating and then the grey became
black.
His last nonsensical thought....//Merciful voices of light,
please don't let me fall.//
But he fell anyway.
He opened his eyes again to silence, queasily aware of the odor
of his own burnt skin, found himself lying on more comfortable
ground.
He was dead, he thought, staring upward at the man who knelt
beside him, calmly applying ointment to the side of Obi-Wan's
throat. He was dead, for this was Qui-Gon.
//Do not trust your eyes, deceive you they will.// Yoda's
voice, a whisper of memory in the back of his mind.
And at that moment, Obi-Wan was certain he could not believe
them.
It was Qui-Gon. Beard gone, hair shorn almost to the
scalp, eyes unmistakable. Wearing a black cloak and tunic,
along with ebony slick boots that reached mid-thigh. Ricket
slim, older around the eyes ... and beautiful still.
Qui-Gon. It couldn't be. But yet ...
"Obi-Wan."
There was no denying the voice. He knew every pitch, every
nuance of it, from passionate declarations to calm
deliberations to the quiet, playful tones of lighter lessons
past. He knew them all, and in this, there could be no mistake.
His mouth turned desert dry and Obi-Wan sat up, painfully. "It
can't be you." Faintly. And on a sob. "I held you when you
died."
Those eyes met his own. "I never died." Flatly. Softly. "It was
a trick, Obi-Wan."
He stared. "I held you."
If he hadn't known those eyes, he would not have recognized the
revulsion in Qui-Gon's expression. "You held something."
Softly, almost a whisper. And that voice he had loved for more
than half of his life began to explain.
A bit of hair, a single cell of skin ... that had been all
they'd needed to create their deception in the palace, he
patiently explained. Along with the delusive crimson force
fields that were no more than curtains to a play; helpmates in
the creation of an illusion. Created along with a body to burn
after Qui-Gon, wounded, but still breathing, was taken by the
Dark Lord.
Taken to a world where one Standard year turned into a lifetime
of torture. Hammered mercilessly with the tenets of Darkness,
exposing his mind and body to trials unimaginable. Altering his
perception with drugs, keeping him in suspension tanks for
weeks on end, filling his mind with doubts. With anger. With a
devouring fear that gave way to terror.
Willing his soul to crack and embrace the Dark Side. By any
means necessary.
All of it ... planned by Palpatine, right from the start.
He willed himself to die a thousand times over, and failing
that, he chose to find a way of escape. Even if it meant
embracing, at least partially, the very Dark Forces that
tormented him. It was a terrible moment, when he donned the
black robes of the Sith lords and walked beside them until he
found his moment. The final battle had been a terrible one, but
he'd done it. He'd escaped ... in the flesh, at least. For now.
"You can't teach an old Bantha new tricks it appears," finished
Qui-Gon, smiling mirthlessly. "I suppose I'm a bit of a failure
as a Sith. For this, I am glad."
"What they've done is an abomination," Obi-Wan replied, choking
on the words. Grappling. "Such things are ... abominations."
"True. But these creatures don't seem to have much trouble with
the concept."
"It is forbidden to create a ... " Obi-Wan insisted weakly, the
word refusing to come out his mouth. "The Senate, the
Federations ... the Council itself have proclaimed it. The
creation of life in that manner is most strictly forbidden."
His voice trailed off, his expression shocked.
Wry glance. "Many things are forbidden, that doesn't mean they
do not exist."
"But Master..."
Qui-Gon shook his head. "Master no more." He cupped Obi-Wan's
cheek, his fingers tugging at the short hairs where the long
braid once was. "I will say that I am sorry I was unable to
attend your induction ceremony. Master Yoda performed it in my
absence, I presume?"
"Yes," Obi-Wan replied numbly. "From what I remember of it."
"Then it was well done," said Qui-Gon. His tone turned crisp
and he rose, helping Obi-Wan totter to his feet. "We will
return together to Coruscant and upon arrival I will debrief
the Council. "From there, I will take my leave and let you and
Anakin return to your work."
"What?" Haunted voice. "Your leave? You cannot leave, Mas...
Qui-Gon. Where will you go? And what of ... of..."
A gentle finger tracing his jaw. Qui-Gon's voice softer than
he'd remembered. "I never planned on staying, Obi-Wan. Think
better of me than that." A light kiss to his temple and it
wasn't enough.
No, nowhere near enough. "I have yet to bond with the boy."
Desperate choke. "You ... you can still train him."
Qui-Gon sighed with frustration. "I am tainted, Obi-Wan. I can
no longer perform my duties as a Knight, let alone train
Anakin." Encouraging tone, attempting to soothe. "You are his
Master now and my presence will only interfere with that. You
can see this clearly enough, can't you?"
Obi-Wan shook his head. "No. No, I cannot see this."
"By the Force, haven't heard what I've told you? Are you
listening, Obi-Wan?"
"I am listening to your words. I understand your arguments. But
I can only hear one thing," Obi-Wan said quietly. Grey eyes so
imploring, that Qui-Gon was forced to look away. "And those are
the words "Qui-Gon is leaving me. He loves me no longer."
Qui-Gon drew back, as if struck. Stared at the pale, composed
face before him for a long moment. His reply was deliberately
cold, tightly shielded. "I didn't return for you, Obi-Wan."
Harsh words, driving the saber home. "I returned for the boy's
sake. To make sure that you, and only you, would conduct his
training. That is all. There is too much at stake for it to be
otherwise."
Obi-Wan's cheek twitched, but other than that, he did not
betray the shattering pain, held himself very still. "I see."
"Good. I am glad." The reply was chilly ... colder than the ice
mountains of Hoth, and Obi-Wan watched as the black-clad figure
strode ahead to the ship that sat waiting. He followed slowly,
the pain in his body fading in comparison to the pain that
threatened to choke him ... to kill him where he stood. Mercy,
he thought, dazed. There has to be some mercy for the wretched
in this universe.
But, as Obi-Wan entered the ship and closed his eyes against
the take off, he knew that mercy too, was nothing but an
illusion.
The Council did not agree that Qui-Gon was tainted
irretrievably.
They must be mad, he thought, staring out at the megapolis of
Coruscant, and brooded, so preoccupied he heard no footsteps
behind him.
"Did the Council agree with your findings?"
Qui-Gon whirled to see his former Padawan standing in the
corridor outside the Council chamber.
"Did they find that you are tainted? An abomination, perhaps?"
Obi-Wan's voice was sharp to the point of coldness.
Qui-Gon turned back toward the Coruscant skyline. "Yes, ... and
no. I am not abomination. I am, however, tainted. I am to
report to the Center of Healing." Drily. "To undo what was done
to me."
"And this will limit your usefulness to the Jedi, yes?" Acid
tone. He had never heard acid in Obi-Wan's tone before.
His chest ached senselessly. "I can no longer be of much use to
anyone for anything, I dare say."
"Then maybe you should fall on your saber. A viable solution."
Still acid, light and deadly.
He turned back, fighting the urge to temper. "Why are you
here?"
Obi-Wan did not move. "Or maybe I should fall on my saber
instead. That would solve even more problems, would it not?"
His heart thumped once, hard. "This talk is unbecoming a Jedi.
It is unbecoming of you, Obi-Wan." Quelling tone.
He finally saw a true spark of anger, those blue-gray eyes
burning. "What do you know of me Qui-Gon? There was a time I
would have sworn that no one knew me better than you ... that
no one loved me more, but now, either I was mistaken or you are
something I'd never dreamed you'd have turned out to be." One
step forward. "And that is a liar. For either you are lying
about returning here for the boy's sake or you have lied to me
every day for the past thirteen years of our lives together.
The times we have learned together, fought together ... and
lain together."
He told himself that Obi-Wan's anger, that the hurt that sought
to inflict hurt on him was natural. But it stoked the part of
him that had nearly been grafted to Darkness.
"Tell me, which is it, Qui-Gon? Which lie are you willing to
admit to? Be careful ... for if it is about the boy, I will
certainly forgive you whether you wish me to or not. But if you
claim that it is not, then you must realize that all of the
Code and everything else you've ever taught me must be a lie.
Have you taught me nothing but lies, Master? Is the life I lead
now a lie?"
He caught his breath, steadied it. "You ... you must examine
your own feelings. I will tell you nothing. Please go." This
was not the young man he had known, this was someone drowning
grief and anger, and seeing that helped him keep his voice
level.
A bitter twist to Obi-Wan's mouth. "The Council is right. You
must be tainted." Haunted, hollow voice. "Either that or
my Master has truly died."
He was near the end of his forbearance. "Go." Cold voice.
Obi-Wan's eyes blazed at him. "Along with the only light of my
heart."
The anger he'd been suppressing flared to life. "Go! Damn you
Obi-Wan, go!"
Obi-Wan's eyes held his for a moment longer; he heard the slap
of leather from Obi-Wan's bootsoles as he turned on his heel,
listened bleakly to the click of heels on the marble floor.
He stood for a moment longer, closed his eyes, willing calm to
himself.
"Right, the boy is." The familiar voice, rough with something
he couldn't identify. "Dead, his master is, after all. Dead,
Qui-Gon is, dead, his friend and lover is. Dead, my student
is."
He turned, stared at Yoda. Swallowed sharp words and felt the
pain.
Yoda gazed at him for another moment before turning in the
other direction and walking slowly away.
He woke screaming.
It wasn't an uncommon sound anymore, the hoarse cries that
seemed to come from someplace outside of himself. They happened
nearly every night, growing worse, not better, as time went on.
Fear. Qui-Gon finally knew the true horror that was fear and
how a lifetime of denying its power had granted its impossible
hold over him, in waking ... and in dreams. He shuddered and
closed his eyes, trying to will some semblance of calm back
into his soul.
He heard the door slide open and felt a familiar weight settle
in next to him. Arms he'd never forgotten, not even in the
worst moments, were entwining him within their warmth.
Embracing him tightly, and Qui-Gon swallowed hard, not willing
to look up. Not daring to try and escape. "It was a dream,
Obi-Wan. A shadow of the past, nothing more. Don't concern
yourself, please."
Felt light fingers weaving through what was left of his hair.
"Tell me of your dreams."
He nearly laughed aloud. Were there words to describe the
dreams he had? The waking nightmare he'd endured? Tears of
blood, mutilated bodies and souls, the living light of the
Force extinguished in every possible way before his horrified
eyes.
And that had been just the beginning.
Qui-Gon cringed against the gentle touches that traced the
outline of his jaw. He heard the whispered chants of the Sith
Lords, ancient vengeful voices, speaking in tongues, flickering
on the edges of his sanity.
//Abomination ... monster ... fallen knight ...//
Kisses rained down on his cheek. "Stop," he whispered. "Leave
me, Obi-Wan."
"Never."
//Liar ... monster ... darkness all...//
He had no right to this comfort. He no longer held rights to
anything good or worthy. He pulled away, gasping. "Don't do
this." He was begging. Something he'd never done before ...
before it had happened.
"I can and I will do this." A deep kiss, leaving him breathless
in its wake. "You may have escaped them, but you cannot escape
me." Hazarded a look up and saw shining eyes, too bright in the
dim lampglow. "How dare you think you can?"
Another kiss, one that seared him to his soul, and Qui-Gon was
lost. Lost in light, the darkness banished. He felt himself
tilted back and slowly, the voices disappeared, along with the
fear. No longer adrift in a sea of lies, the burning anger that
threatened his soul was retreating, giving way to a power much
greater.
He was being reclaimed, inch by inch, slowly brought back to a
sheltered place within arms he loved. It was dizzying, but
wondrous, and the black chasm gave way to wide open skies.
Endless, and filled with possibilities so hopeful, they took
his breath away.
He gave in to all of them joyfully and the night wore on, until
the lamplight silently gave way to a very bright dawn.
The healers made their decision after some hours of
deliberation.
"We will need complete solitude if we are to be of any use to
him," explained OtolJ'n, the lead pasha, or soul-healer as they
were sometimes called. "I suggest we take him off world,
preferably to Dagobah or Orndle."
Yoda nodded. Turned to the tall figure who stood, waiting in
the middle of the Counsel chamber. "Accept this do you,
Qui-Gon?"
Qui-Gon glanced at Obi-Wan before replying. "I do."
Received a small smile in reply. They'd spoken shortly that
morning of a probable separation, but this time, there was no
pain in their discussion. It was, if anything, the same calm,
rational debates they'd always had in the past, tempered with
Qui-Gon's solid logic and Obi-Wan's prickly retorts.
He smiled to himself. It was good to be home.
He bowed to Yoda and then to the healers, before leaving the
chamber. Obi-Wan followed him into the hallway, the wry grin he
knew so well playing upon his lips.
Qui-Gon turned to him and pulled him close, kissing him
soundly, for no other reason but the joy of it.
Got a raised eyebrow in reply. "Don't be long. You know how
impatient I get."
He smiled. "Yes, indeed. Some things never change, do they,
love?"
Obi-Wan shook his head. Smiled and touched his cheek lightly.
"Never."
He kissed the palm of the hand that caressed him, and Qui-Gon
turned to follow the healers to the waiting ship, filled with
hope.
Knowing that the Light had already reclaimed him and the only
task ahead was the reclamation of himself.
fini
Liked it? Hated it? Drop me a line! :-)
dbkate2@aol.com
NOTES: A mighty THANKS to Kass, without whose immense
help, guidance and threats of bodily harm I would not have been
able to finish this. (bowing before the Dark Zoot) And a thanks
to Laura, whose "My Obi-Wan" made me cry so hard that I just
had to make myself feel better. This is the result. :-)
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