Pairing: assumed Q/O relationship, but that's not really the
point here
Spoliers: Oh yes, the major ones in all four films. Set at the
end of ROTJ.
Notes: Ever wondered why Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan and Darth Vader all
seemed to die before their time?
Series/Sequels: To quote Ewan M., "I'd shoot myself in the head
first."
Disclaimer: All hail George Lucas for creating such cheeky
characters. Boos and hisses for not allowing them to reveal
their true feelings (or kill Jar Jar Binks).
Feedback: I am a feedback junkie. Who among us isn't?
"I hate to say I told you so," Qui-Gon's spirit pointed at the
unmasked figure of the ex-Anakin-soon-to-be-ex-Darth-Vader,
"but I told you so. He's gone green."
"So, why didn't it happen to me?" Obi-Wan asked. "I'm older
than Anakin."
"Ah, but you took care of yourself, moisturised when I told you
to. Anakin spent far too long on Tattooine and it ruined his
skin. It brought on the symptoms far earlier. Then there was
the shock of turning to the dark side of the force. All that
pride, envy and raw emotion was too much for him. Besides
which, the high level of midi-chlorines in his blood
exacerbates the syndrome."
"I seem to remember us having a far amount of raw emotion,"
Obi-Wan winked.
"What it was to be of the flesh, eh Obi? Yet, at least this way
we get to retain our youthful appearances - and my mind is your
mind. Now, we are each other. That is enough. That is
everything to me."
"Yes, Master."
The two Jedi studied Darth Vader again. "I said you'd be
grateful when you're dead, Padawan mine."
"Master, I'm older than you were when you died, I've trained a
Padawan of my own..."
"Not very well..." Qui-Gon interjected.
Obi-Wan would have scowled, but his ghostly form didn't seem to
be able to. "What I mean is - it's inappropriate for you to
call me Padawan, Master."
"Then, why are you calling me Master, my Padawan?"
Obi-Wan sighed - this was one of those conversations he
couldn't be bothered to win. They had been having it since his
own demise at Vader's hands and now, in the presence of death,
destruction and Luke Skywalker's strange taste for black
clothes, it was continuing. He shrugged. "Habit? Sentiment?
Because it sounds good on you?"
Anakin's spirit slipped away from the machine his flesh had
inhabited and stood before his old master and grand master. He
looked down at his corpse and grimaced. "It's times like this
that I wished I'd listened to you, Master Kenobi." He knelt
down by the body, ignoring the sorrow of his son and the flow
and ebb of the Force around their forms. "That's the real
reason I turned, you know."
"We know," Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan said in unison.
"I never believed - how could I have been so naive?"
"Most think of the tales as legend, of nothing more than
stories with which to scare the young into implementing a
comprehensive beauty and skincare regime," Qui-Gon explained.
"I did wonder why Master Kenobi, a hero amongst heroes,
insisted on moisturising at least twice a day." Anakin grinned.
Obi-Wan stuck his tongue out at him in a manner unbecoming his
Order.
"Few live long enough to succumb," Qui-Gon continued, not
taking his eyes off Obi-Wan's mouth. "Only one in my lifetime
survived long enough to show all the advanced symptoms of the
disease."
Anakin nodded. "I just woke up one morning and my skin was
green. So, on with the mask, the throaty voice and blah, blah,
blah." He stood up. "I always figured that black went better
with green than white did."
"Cream, some of us wore cream," Qui-Gon muttered. He glanced at
the young figure of his Obi-Wan and smiled. Thoughts of whipped
cream and butterscotch flooded his mind. Obi-Wan stood up a
little straighter and basked in the glow. Control was always
the first thing to slip between them.
Anakin blushed at the mental image of his master frolicking
with Qui- Gon. If he'd known when they first met, he might
never have been able to look either of them in the eye. The
Obi-Wan he remembered had been an old man, yet this youthful
vision was beautiful. Qui-Gon stepped closer to Obi-Wan, moving
into position behind and to one side of him. He held a hand a
few inches above the back of his neck. His look was part
dejection, part possession. Anakin understood. He suddenly
wanted to touch Obi-Wan as well.
Obi-Wan crouched by the corpse's feet. "I see you started with
the platform shoes."
"Didn't have much choice. I had an image to maintain. If my men
knew I was only 5'3" and shrinking, I would never have got any
respect." Anakin looked down at his old master. "So, do you
forgive me for that little incident with my lightsabre on the
Death Star?"
"Actually, I've been meaning to talk to you about that."
"I had to do something to avenge that dreadful haircut you made
me get on Naboo." Anakin smiled.
"It's tradition, Anakin. The Council believes that if you can
survive 20 years with that haircut, you can survive
anything..."
"I'm sure he didn't take it too personally, Anakin," Qui-Gon
interrupted. "There were...shall we say...hidden benefits."
"You were waiting for him?"
Qui-Gon nodded. "Forever and always, body and soul."
Obi-Wan murmured something that sounded like, "I missed you
too, Master."
"Some might say you did him a favour, Anakin. Obi was becoming
decidedly wrinkly before the end and I'm sure he'd lost an inch
or so." Qui-Gon grinned. "A few more years and he would have
started looking like Master Yoda too."
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