Summary: Sometime before ANH, Obi-Wan is on Tatooine thinking
and remembering. Meanwhile, Yoda tries to talk some sense into
one particular Jedi Master. Results ensue.
Feedback: This is the story you are looking for. Or maybe not,
who am I to say. :-) However, if you've read it send me an
email.
Notes: don't ask me where this came from. Too much
listening to the 'Armageddon' score and Queen, mee-sa thinks.
I'm not sure how to write older ben/Obi-Wan so I'm just hoping
this works.
Disclaimer: Um, I won them playing sabbacc? Didn't think so.
Dang it. Okay, great George, they are yours. But at least in my
world Qui-Gon is still around a lot :-) Mee-sa maka no monies.
"100 clones of Obi-Wan on the wall, take one down go mess
around, 99 clones of Obi-Wan on the wall..." Now, if that got
your attention, thanks holly for your continued and gracious
help! :-)
Sometimes even now I sit and think of him. That time in my life
has been gone for many, many years, and yet with a blink of my
eyes I am with him again.
The fires that raged in his funeral pyre cast long shadows
across my heart, and burned no more harshly than my own tears.
Even now I can feel that echo of pain inside.
I gaze across the desolation that is my home now, and find
within it a myriad of feelings. Those that stand out the most
are so similar and yet different than my life before. One hot,
one cold. Both crushingly empty when you are alone. Space, the
desert - it makes no difference.
My duty to the universe remains, its weight heavy upon my
shoulders. I will not fail the generation I now live to guard.
My legacy may forever be marred, but theirs will not be. These
twin rays of light, they have the power inside to pierce
through the darkness that envelops the galaxy.
Someday, that light will burst forth, and I shall be allowed to
drift away forgotten. I am left only to wonder if my Master
will be waiting for me there.
My Master never spoke to me after dying in my arms. Many times
I found fault within myself for this; perhaps he couldn't stand
the pain of seeing his failed Padawan again. During so many
years alone, I've never learned the answer to that most elusive
and prized of questions.
One might think that memories dull with time, becoming a
familiar and comforting presence. My life is testament to the
inaccuracy of that claim. My memories are sharp and true - the
happiness found only in youth taunts me like a lover, while the
failures of both Master and Apprentice emblazon themselves on
my heart.
I grieve. Not as much for myself, as it was my failures that
brought me to this place. Rather, I grieve for the others.
My stoic, yet impassioned Master, who never backed away from
something he believed in, even a stubborn boy determined to
walk at his side away from Bandomeer.
My Apprentice, young and full of life and promise, not the
thing he became, but the man he once was.
My friend, too young a queen, majestic and endearing. She too
is lost to this universe.
Countless others, crushed under the Empire. An Empire I helped
to foster through my own attempts to defeat it.
The suns are setting over Tatooine, casting their last rays of
light across the hard surface. My time, too, is growing short.
A lifetime's light casting its own shadows across my not quite
hardened heart. I can feel the stirring in the Force. The time
for change - balance - is soon.
Again I will take my place in the unfolding events that will
determine the destiny of the galaxy, and then may I rest.
My only hope, the only dream I allow myself anymore, is that he
will be there to greet me when I arrive. A student is never
completely whole without his Master, and to this I am not the
exception.
As night surrounds this world, I look upon the star-strewn sky
and remember before, if only for a moment. I close my eyes, and
feel a soft wind upon my cheek, as if my Master is reaching out
to console me.
The sad smile I feel doesn't show on my weathered face, and I
turn, walking back into the small hovel that is my home.
Perhaps tonight my dreams will be of peace, instead of the
horrible war that wages.
Perhaps even they will be of happiness.
Half a galaxy away, the small planet of Dagobah hung sleepily
in space. The swampy world turned slowly, and within it one of
the greatest Jedi Masters ever known lived quietly - hidden
away from the crushing reach of the Empire.
"Grows weary, he does," the small Jedi said, his eyes closed
and head turned upward toward the night sky.
A blue shimmering appeared next to Yoda. "He is strong,
stronger than I."
"Doubts that now, he does."
"He is no longer a young Padawan," Qui-Gon insisted. "The Force
was always strong within him."
Yoda nodded, and turned his gaze to the translucent man next to
him. "Always strong, yes. A great Jedi was he always. Is he,
still. Yet weary are we all."
"Anakin." The Jedi Master's voice echoed hollowly around the
small room.
Yoda nodded, walking awkwardly with his small cane. "The man is
no longer the boy. Changed did he. Brought balance."
Qui-Gon blinked slowly. "I never foresaw this," he said, waving
outward with his arms.
"None of us did," Yoda said, turning a wise eye to Qui-Gon.
"And the least to expect, first to fall were they."
"They are here now," Qui-Gon said softly.
Yoda nodded, "Yes. Rest they may. Balance was found - always
two are there."
"You and Obi-Wan."
"And soon, the Skywalker children, remain they will."
Nodding, Qui-Gon asked, "Will they remain in the light?"
Looking at Qui-Gon with a gaze of a Master to his prize
student, the old Jedi shook his head. "Always in motion the
future, always. Yet clouded their future, not as their father."
Qui-Gon looked at Yoda, but didn't reply.
After several silent moments, Yoda turned again to Qui-Gon.
"Why do you not go to him?"
"I can't. I've tried."
Yoda stabbed at the ground with his walking stick. "Excuses you
provide. Not answers."
Qui-Gon lowered his gaze, unable to look at Yoda. "Even now I
cannot abide the look in his eyes if he were to hold what I
have caused against me."
"Know your Padawan so little, do you?"
"My Master . . ."
"Your own fears, do you see," Yoda interrupted. "Not his. Much
have we endured since your death. Much more shall all involved
go through."
"He became a great Jedi. A Master could ask for no more."
"Great Jedi, yes." Yoda nodded, "It was he who saved the twins,
who sought to soothe the young mother as she lay dying."
"As he sought to comfort me as well."
Yoda faced Qui-Gon, eight-hundred years worth of knowledge
shining in his eyes. "The time is near. Go to him, ease both of
your minds, you must."
"Always the Master," Qui-Gon said with a faint grin.
Yoda laughed, an odd, little sound. "Often enough recognize
that, you did not."
"Yes, Master," Qui-Gon's voice echoed even though his glowing
blue form had faded.
The desert world shimmers to life around me, although I know it
is I and not it that truly lacks form. I can feel him nearby,
even so long after my death. I could never forget the mark of
energy that was only Obi-Wan.
With only a thought, I find myself next to him. He sleeps, an
old man now, yet forever in my mind the headstrong youth I once
knew. A smile tugs at my lips. Even the many years cannot tame
the way he sleeps.
Covers tangle around him, but his face no longer shines with
the innocence I remember. A pang of guilt fills me for an
instant, before I release it. The loss of innocence, or rather,
its theft, is one of life's cruelest crimes.
I wonder how many times over I've been guilty of this. The man
before me, handsome even in old age, an age made worse by the
life he's been forced to bear, is my greatest failure. It is
his pain resonates most loudly in my soul.
It is his face that haunts my waking dreams, for the forever
sleep denies us true dreams. I've felt his pain, as I felt
Amidala's and Anakin's. Of what the young boy -the Chosen One -
has become . . . I can feel nothing but emptiness.
He has become death and darkness intertwined. //That failure,
young Obi-Wan, was mine and not yours. Never yours.//
He stirs in his sleep, fighting the demons that only nightmares
can provide. Before I have the chance to think about it, I wave
my hand near his forehead and his movement stills. His dreams,
I can feel, have calmed and his face relaxes - if only a little
while.
//My Padawan, you have made me proud. The terrors you have
faced, the evils that were inevitable, you handled these
changes much better than I.//
I was always near, just beyond the grasp of those still living.
I regret my decision to stay hidden now, in the end - if for no
other good than my own.
//You were never meant to endure so much alone, my Padawan.//
I long to be able to touch again, if just for a moment. To
communicate my unwavering support of his choices and his life,
but this I am denied.
I find myself unable to do more for my student, and feel the
familiar sensation of what body I am allowed fading away. I am
not quite gone when I hear an achingly familiar voice.
"Master?" Obi-Wan asked, squinting as he looked around the
small home.
For a moment he thought he had imagined the well-remembered
presence of his Master, but had not quite closed his eyes again
when a disembodied voice spoke in a hushed whisper. "Yes,
Obi-Wan."
Sitting bolt upright in bed, Obi-Wan's eyes scanned over every
surface in the room. The certainty of age fled, and he found
himself feeling like a Padawan once more.
"You're really here?" his aged voice asked, contrasting to the
youth he felt.
A shimmering blue sparkled near his bed, and he was able to see
Qui-Gon nod. "Yes, Obi-Wan," he repeated.
Obi-Wan licked his lips, unsure what to say. After a silent
moment, he managed, "I've missed you, Master."
Qui-Gon smiled. "I am no longer your Master, Obi-Wan. You
surpassed me long ago."
"Never, Master," he insisted.
"I've missed you too, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, a sad look in his
eyes.
Obi-Wan sat, facing his Master, unsure if he should believe his
senses. It was feeling Qui-Gon through the Force that was his
proof this wasn't his hopeful imagination.
"I am sorry about Anakin, Qui-Gon," he said, forgoing the
familiar title for the moment.
Qui-Gon nodded, and moved to sit next to Obi-Wan. "I know, but
you have nothing to be forgiven for."
"Master?"
"You did what you could, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon replied. "His fate
was destined long before I pushed him onto you."
Obi-Wan opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it and
remained silent. "What is it, my Padawan?" Qui-Gon pressed,
reveling in the smile the old title provoked in Obi-Wan.
"Why did you wait to come? Was this world so hard to bear after
you left?" Obi-Wan asked, decades of doubt and uncertainty
finally given an outlet.
Qui-Gon shook his head, "I have watched over you, from a
distance." He paused, before admitting, "It was not your
failure that I feared, Obi-Wan, but my own."
"You failed no one, Master."
"I failed that person most important to me, Padawan," Qui-Gon
explained. He could feel Obi-Wan think of Anakin and shook his
head. "Always you - the most important to me was always you.
And I never wanted to see a fallen look in your eyes when you
looked upon me."
"And you have always been the most important to me," Obi-Wan
replied quietly. "Even now I miss you."
Qui-Gon smiled. "A greater legacy no one could ask for,
Obi-Wan. You have persevered, and because of you and Yoda, the
galaxy might still be granted its rebirth."
Obi-Wan stared at Qui-Gon for a moment. "Thank you, Qui-Gon,"
he said in a soft voice.
"Thank you, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon replied, slowly fading away. "I
will watch over you, until it is your time to join me here."
Obi-Wan reached out with his hand, knowing that he would feel
nothing. "I love you, Master," he whispered quietly.
"And I you, Padawan." He had completely faded away when
Qui-Gon's voice again echoed through the room. "Sleep now,
Obi-Wan. You will find only peace in your dreams."
"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan replied, a mixture of humor, longing,
acceptance and love in his voice.
End
please let me know what you think - - razrbkr@juno.com ~~ kaly
Archive 