Uninvited

by Kass (kassxf@aol.com)

Disclaimer: Not mine, not for profit.

Categories: POV, Romance, Q/O, Angst

Summary: A while after penumbra, written at Kate's instigation. <g> Yes, I am open to suggestion, and she generally knows what to suggest.

It is a simple existence you live now, Obi-Wan. The small desert house, the trade you do to keep food on your table, the daily work--it's not all that unlike the years at Coruscant, when you were my young Padawan.

Yes, I see the twitch of the muscles in your jaw as you continue to ignore me. I told you that you would come to wish me gone, but I find myself quite contented here, watching you work each day, watching over your sleep.

That was an amazing dream you had last night, by the way.

I wouldn't have thought a man your age was still prone to erotic dreams of such intensity, particularly one with such monastic habits. I quite enjoyed watching, I must admit, although these days one would think that the lack of the physical form would have burnt out my pleasure in seeing yours.

Ah, I never have lost my ability to make you blush--yes, you're quite right, that dream can be laid at my door, Obi-Wan, I may not be able to touch you in the flesh, but there are no hindrances in spirit. And I find I miss that flesh more than I would have guessed, more than I had missed it during the years you grew older.

My, your vocabulary has grown, at least in terms of profanity, Obi-Wan, I must say the Slggish impresses me, with all the glottal stops and clicks; I would think it would be more difficult to learn given human vocal cords.

When you were fourteen, you used to shrug like that when you were angry with me, pretending not to be angry, pretending you were taking little notice. Isn't it interesting what habits a man retains after half a lifetime.

Ah, you almost slipped there, I could feel the words, taste them almost. Well, what has it been? Nearly one cycle of the Tatooine moon, has it not? Let me ask you if you remember the only time I struck you? It was on Arrak, do you recall? After the rebels had killed the hostages just as you won through the barricades.

You blamed yourself. I blamed the rebels, although I confess I felt deeply grieved at the loss of lives. You blamed yourself, you locked yourself up in your quarters and brooded ever more on your lack of worth, of skill, of ability, and on what you saw as blood guilt. I had to use Force to open the lock, and you would listen to nothing of what I said.

You were eighteen. I finally had to steel myself, slapped you hard across the face, you were so stunned, the brave facade broke down, you stared at me with tears in your eyes, although you didn't weep.

I can't slap you now.

However, my command of the Force that forms me has not diminished. There is a spatula in your kitchen which might do very nicely--ah, another near slip, you nearly looked directly at me, Obi-Wan, don't try and deny it.

Another shrug, ah, how that takes me back to different times.

He calls himself Vader now.

I called this shape into being because of the force of his hate, because of his hunger for your death. I faced him, the phantom of a man he had once, in more innocent days, trusted and helped. He wasn't expecting me, I think it's safe to say, but he hid his terror well. Except for immediately contacting his dark Master, the Emperor.

I dare say the Emperor reassured him somewhat, but at that moment, every communications and navigation function on his ship ceased to work. A petty trick, when one considers that I could have done far worse, but those who follow him, while not blameless, are not entirely to blame.

It's far easier to hold to noble ideals when you have nothing to lose, and these have much to lose. Their families and their lives, for example. Weak they may be, but evil....I suppose evil is relative.

Compared to Palpatine, even Vader is smaller in stature. Vader was seduced, Palpatine made the choice willingly himself.

Ah, I forgot, you had rather think that you were to blame. Forgive me, Obi-Wan, I hadn't intended to rob you of your guilt.

Throwing things in my direction makes no difference to me, I should remind you--there, there is my Obi-Wan.

Face me. Throw my words back in my face, if you must, but yes, you do see me, and there is no denying it.

Face to face. We are equals, remember? Both older men, the difference in age subsumed by your life.

You do see me. I wonder, will you hear me?