Master Apprentice 
Archive
The 'Ever-Changing' Series
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Archive: My site. Anywhere else that wants it (I can dream!)
Category: Ficlets/series.
Rating: PG (sorry)
Warnings: None
Spoilers: No
Summary: A series of little ficlets in homage to Obi's changeable eyes, his personality and his growth over the years.
Feedback: You betcha.
Notes: Thanks to Rachel, and a double helping of smoochies for Yogie for all the extra help ^x^
Disclaimer: Written for fun...blah...no money...sigh...you know the score...
Grey
The sky was dull, the air still and the birds quiet.
Peace had descended as though in reverence.
In respect for the dead that littered the inner courtyard.
Obi-Wan stopped beside the body of a child, struggling with the urge to brush the dark curls from the tiny girl's face, but failing to resist.
With a steady hand he pushed away the tangle of hair and blood, uncovering the motionless features beneath.
Her face was pale, fixed, empty. She would have looked almost peaceful.
Would have, if not for her eyes.
Open eyes. Full of fear. Deep with pain.
Obi-Wan looked away. Then straightened. Then moved on.
He found another child. There were so many children.
All had fallen, an entire village gone. But there seemed so many more children than adults.
Obi-Wan moved away again. Why he had to see each person, each set of eyes, he did not know. Perhaps as some trial, some personal test. To stare death in the face and not let his emotions control him.
Across the yard, Qui-Gon tended to one of the few survivors, attempting to break the man from his shock. Every few minutes he would glance up at his Padawan, a flicker of concern passing over his usually stoic features.
Obi-Wan, oblivious to the weight of his Master's gaze, continued his task. He had seen death before, but not this much.
Never this much.
The scent of blood was in the air, infusing his body, infecting his mind.
He walked to the courtyard's entrance and let his eyes roam the barren landscape. Beyond the ridge was a city of murderers. There was no hiding from the Jedi.
They knew who had done this, despite the lies and deception. And they would seek justice for the people who had lost their lives to the greed and ignorance of those others.
They would avenge the deaths of the children.
Obi-Wan turned; seeking the presence of the only one who would understand.
Over the sea of destruction and broken lives, Qui-Gon watched as Obi-Wan's eyes searched his gaze, speaking silent volumes in a single glance.
With a heavy heart, he noted his Padawan's lack of control. Raging beneath the surface of his mind, Obi-Wan's anger was as dark as the thick stains on the ground below.
The familiar eyes, grey with rage, begged for his permission.
Before he could stop himself, Qui-Gon nodded once.
Perhaps Obi-Wan needed this anger.
Blue-grey
So this was it. At last the persistent optimism of youth had met its match.
Positive thoughts would not get Obi-Wan out of this situation.
The burly guard gestured again with his coiled whip, razor sharp tips gleaming in the firelight, returning Obi-Wan's defiant gaze to the boy only a few years younger than himself.
The youth had willingly helped Obi-Wan, made sure he knew what to do, where to go. The young Jedi would have been in far more trouble if the boy hadn't looked after him.
Yet now the enthusiastic light had slipped from the boy's eyes. His body slumped in the chains that bound him, weak and abused, dark skin marred by angry red welts.
Obi-Wan could help him. Even though he knew the boy had suffered the same 'discipline' countless times before, he didn't wish to see it continued. He could help him.
All it would take was the slightest nudge from his mind.
But the moment he showed more strength than a normal youth, his cover would be blown. In truth, no one his size could take such a large man unarmed, and especially not a work-weary one, as was Obi-Wan's alias.
It was imperative that he get through this mission without revealing his true identity. But his heart ached to see a friend being hurt while he could easily make it better.
Reaching out to the Force, he cast desperately about for advice, a path, anything to reassure him.
The words of his Master filtered down through layers of memory.
This mission is very important, Obi-Wan. I have faith in your abilities and I know you will get the information we require. Don't endanger yourself for duty's sake. No one will blame you for being careful.
What about endangering friends? It was Obi-Wan's fault they had been in a restricted area, but the boy had boldly stepped forward and claimed it was he who had been snooping, while Obi-Wan had merely been trying to make him turn back.
Obi-Wan was already on remand, having been caught eavesdropping on a conversation he should not have heard. The boy knew that another incident would lead to Obi-Wan's punishment - or rather further punishment - and that death was very near if he got into trouble again.
Oh, why had he found so loyal a friend?!
There was no way to tell the boy that he was a Jedi. That death held no power over him. That a killing blow could, in fact, be deflected, or controlled and allowed to go far enough to make the aggressor believe in its finality.
Obi-Wan struggled with the decision.
His duty as a Jedi. Or friendship.
With a deep breath, he ignored the jeers of the other guards behind him and made his choice. Turning cold, blue-grey eyes on the guard, he set his jaw and gave his reply.
Grey-green
It took all of Obi-Wan's strength to look. But he did. It was inevitable. Written in the sands of time.
He was destined to see his Master's inert body.
Senses strained to the limit, he searched for a sign of life. Well, Qui-Gon would have to be alive, wouldn't he? The training bond would have told Obi-Wan if he had died.
Wouldn't it?
A flicker of movement at his side, a hand on his shoulder and a rough shove to turn him away from the sight of his Master.
Xanatos.
There was hunger in the other man's eyes; his gaze raking over Obi-Wan in unabashed interest.
The youth shuddered at the presence that brushed against his mind.
"Why don't you just leave us alone?"
Xanatos waved a hand sharply and a hoarse cry sounded from behind Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon was definitely alive then.
"But not for long," Xanatos murmured, clearly very pleased with himself.
Obi-Wan swallowed anxiously. "What do you want?"
With another ravenous look, the older man began to circle him. "I find it too simple to merely kill a man. So much more pleasurable to…break…him."
It was hardly an effort to figure out where this was leading.
Obi-Wan wished desperately to turn and look at his Master again. He wanted to hear Qui-Gon's voice once more; preferably intoning some advice, but even simple support would satisfy him.
It wasn't to be. This was Obi-Wan's moment and he lifted intense, grey-green eyes to meet those of his captor.
Could he fight Xanatos? Could he fight and be sure that Qui-Gon would not die?
Would submitting mean their safety?
For the first time in his life, Obi-Wan felt the true touch of fear.
Green
Again.
Assume position. Start again.
No, stop that.
What's wrong with him today?
Again.
Again, Obi-Wan.
Are you not well? You performed this perfectly yesterday. What's wrong?
Alright, again.
He seems preoccupied.
Your left arm is wrong.
And now your right leg is, too. Amend it.
How? Obi-Wan, how old are you now? Sixteen? And you don't know how?
Sixteen…You're not a child anymore.
That's better.
Do it again.
When did you grow up, Obi-Wan?
Something is clearly affecting your concentration. Are you sure nothing is wrong? You might feel better if you talk about it.
Show you? No, I won't show you. Assume position and I'll correct you.
Look, your balance is off. A touch here and you'd fall. No, I won't prove it, you know I'm right.
Why are you tense? Oh, cramp? Where? Okay, I'll massage it, but only because you don't seem yourself today.
Is that the only reason?
Your shoulders too? How did you get a cramp up there? Don't get upset, I believe you.
Your other thigh? Are you sure you are well, Padawan? Perhaps we should visit the Healers after we're done here.
Perhaps I'm the one who should visit them.
You're sure? Fine. Assume position.
Again.
Alright, I'll show you.
At least this will focus my attention, I suppose. I can't take my eyes off…
Don't lean so close, I need room to move.
Please, don't ask that of me, not now.
Damn.
Oh. Well, I suppose moving you through it would work. Yes, I know it would mean you have to lean against me, why did you say that? Yes, I could hear you quite clearly.
Was that tone wistful, or did I imagine it? I can't think straight when you're so close.
Wait, when did I come to that conclusion?!
Are you paying attention, Obi-Wan? Assume position.
When did this become torture? So close. And I think…I think I want to be closer.
You're watching me.
Concentrate.
That intense...green…
I mustn't look. I want to, but then you'd know. You'd figure out what I've only just realised myself.
That's how it's supposed to go. Now try it yourself.
No, I won't lead you again.
To touch that gentle form once more…
No.
To breathe in that special scent…
Don't give me that look.
To taste…
Let's finish for today.
Blue
Obi-Wan had long ago chosen his favourite spot in the Temple gardens. It was a little grove of trees, not far from the small lake's shore and it was incredibly private. It surprised Obi-Wan how few people seemed to know about it. He could probably stay there for days and never be found - if no one looked for him of course.
He had plans for this spot; it was too special to savour alone.
The grass was too soft for just Obi-Wan to lie on.
The air was too crisp and fresh for just Obi-Wan to breathe.
The sky was too blue for just Obi-Wan to stare up at.
It lacked something.
It cried out for something.
Just as Obi-Wan would cry out for that same thing. Alone. At night.
Night was the best time to visit his grove. With the shadows as his companions, he didn't feel so alone. He could almost imagine that one of those shadows had a real form.
And then one night it did.
Obi-Wan rolled over, sensing the presence of another before any sound could reach him, and lifted himself to his feet.
"Complete. At last," he murmured quietly, then dropped his head, ashamed that the words had slipped by his guard and he had actually spoken aloud.
Movement, then a gentle hand lifted his chin. Blue met blue in sudden recognition and understanding.
In sudden and unconditional love.