Summary: Post ROTJ, Obi-Wan finally makes it to the Jedi
afterlife.
Feedback: please! this is my first attempt at anything other
than humour (so don't say you weren't warned *g*)
Disclaimer: They belong to George Lucas. I am merely part of
the volunteer effort to help them lead a fuller, more
productive existence. (the snatch of verse at the end isn't
mine either; I don't know who to credit as I've only heard it
as the chorus of a folksong)
MUCH thanks to Kathye for previewing this for me!
It is Anakin who sees him first, and hurries ahead to greet
him. As the two are reunited, I silently slip away. I cannot
face Qui-Gon Jinn.
Not now.
I search out a secluded place to sit and try to calm the flood
of emotions. Understand, acknowledge, and release - not an easy
exercise, but a necessary one. I close my eyes and let the
memories wash over me in waves.
I know there must have been a time when I did not love Qui-Gon,
but I can no longer remember it. Instead, it seems to me to
have always been a fundamental part of who I am, though a
secret one. I did not know his feelings on the matter until
that day on Naboo, when I felt his fingers caress my cheek, and
I knew, in one wonderful, terrible moment, that my master loved
me, and that he could not stay.
For years, the memory of that moment was never far from my
thoughts. After Anakin had fallen asleep at night I would dream
of the life we never had together - the life we could have
lived, had the force not willed that I go on alone. During
those long nights I thought that I would carry my grief for
Qui-Gon's loss always.
I was wrong.
In time, I learned to thank the force with everything in me
that Qui-Gon was taken that day on Naboo. That he never had to
live through those terrible years when the Emperor's death
squads hunted the Jedi across the galaxy. That he didn't live
to see the mob tear down the Temple and declare the Code a
heresy. That he was spared the bitter memories I carry of those
days. I have watched the Order that was my whole life fall
away. I have seen the Force to which I pledged myself reduced
to superstition; the curiosity of an age long gone. I have felt
the terror of billions of innocent souls as their world was
crushed in a black fist.
And I have counted myself among those who should be blamed.
And still, I lived. Through wars, purges, years spent hiding in
desert wastelands, through empire and rebellion, I
lived. Until at last the force brought Luke Skywalker to
my doorstep and gave me the chance to help put things right.
And now that it is finished, I can't face him. I sit in my
seclusion, and the feel the weight of a lifetime pushing down
on me, all those years widening the gulf between the man I am
and the man I was. I sit, and I feel nothing but grief for the
loss of what could have been. Your padawan still loves you,
Qui-Gon, but I have grown so old...
//You're wrong, my Obi-Wan.//
Familiar fingers trace the line of my cheek, and I open my eyes
to see Qui-Gon sitting beside me. What cruel trick of the force
is this, that I should see his heart so plainly in his face
only now, when it's too late... the lifetime I would have
shared with him is forfeit, and weary regrets are all that I
have left.
I try to turn away, but Qui-Gon pulls me into his arms, and
tightens his grip when I try to escape. He waits until I have
stopped struggling, and gently kisses the top of my head.
//That journey is over, my Obi-Wan. Let it go.//
I want to believe him, but the sheer weight of the years tells
me otherwise. Qui-Gon releases me. "Padawan," he says, in a
tone of patient exasperation that I recognize immediately, "how
many times must I tell you that a Jedi is mindful of the
future, mindful of the past, but lives-"
"in the moment" I finish, smiling briefly at the memory. It is
a refrain that Qui-Gon had been obliged to repeat many times
during my training.
"In the moment" he echoes. The hint of a smile in his eyes is
replaced by an almost desperate intensity.
"Let. It. Go."
I feel something shift deep inside me, and stare at Qui-Gon in
astonishment. "But how..."
The question dies in my throat as I feel his lips on mine,
tender at first and then growing more insistent. The wave of
raw emotion that washes over me is almost unbearable, and
finally, I understand. A small moan escapes me as I open my
mouth and let myself sink into the sensations swirling through
me until nothing else remains.
Some time later, I sense another presence, and turn to see
Anakin, watching us with an expression that can only be
described as smug.
"Making up for lost time?"
Qui-Gon smiles as he fingers the thin braid that now hangs from
behind my ear. "Just enjoying the moment, Anakin."
Anakin laughs, and I can only imagine what the look on my face
must be - a cross between blissful and wanton, if Qui-Gon's
face is anything to go by. I decide not to care. Instead, I
breathe a short prayer of gratitude to the force that I am
here, in this moment.
Exactly where I belong.
Fin.
*From too much love of living
From hope and fear set free
We thank with brief thanksgiving
Whatever gods there be
That no life lives forever
That dead men rise up never
That even the weariest river
Winds somewhere safe to sea.*
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