Faith

by Sian1359 (sian1359@yahoo.com)

Archive: MA and my site: http://www.hawksong.com/sian/index.html

Category: EP II AU, H/C, Angst

Rating: R (references to non consensual happenings)

Series: Probably not; to continue would just allow me to play with canonical ouchies.

Warnings: This was written in just over three hours, which is more an excuse than an accomplishment -- other than this being the most I've written in almost six months.

Also, not beta'ed; I couldn't bear the thought of Christy, Jennifer or Lori spending more time on this than I did.

Disclaimers: Not mine. Anything recognizable belonging to Lucas, Salvatore, Patricia Wrede or anyone else probably belongs to them.

Feedback: Please -- On or Off list

Summary: What really happened after Dooku left Obi-Wan.

When Count Dooku had believed the utter sincerity in his voice, the former Jedi left with only his mild words and a gentle tone, "It may be difficult to secure your release."

Before then seeking to break what he couldn't turn.

Pure pain had come first, the increase of the intensity of the field Obi-Wan Kenobi hung suspended within. Then some of Dooku's … allies had come in with their spears and claws to bare him in what he supposed was an attempt to humiliate him as much as give them better access to his skin and blood. Jedi, after all, were not body conscious, and why would a species more insectoid than mammalian care about the human form?

Of course, the aliens could also have just been preparing him better for Dooku's assassin.

Undoubtedly being subsequently raped by the very man he'd come to Genosis to find was the focal point of Dooku's plan. Certainly it had hurt, had been bloody awful and an agony all its own in more than just the physical abuse. And indeed, Dooku had actually come close to his achievement at that point, especially when Obi-Wan had realized that the bounty hunter's young clone son was also part of the audience.

Yet neither this humiliation nor the physical pain had hurt as much as the feelings and emotions this had awakened in Obi-Wan; he'd never envisioned rape to be his introduction to the sexual practices of his own species and had difficulty ignoring the other's gloating about Obi-Wan's own padawan having experienced sex before his virginal master.

Learning that the Sith were aware that his padawan's descent into Darkness was accelerating was almost worse than the images and feelings those words had invoked. Not from a prurient or voyeuristic sense, but because the truth of this showed the further widening between his and Anakin's path.

In his padawan's feelings for the now Senator from Naboo, Obi-Wan had handled Anakin all wrong, had only cautioned and reminded his padawan that such attachment was forbidden. Obi-Wan had not explained that love could be realized once a learner passed his trials and became a knight. (And had that been because of his own similar situation when he'd been Anakin's age, and his subsequent heartache?) Already Anakin thought himself ready for those trials - thought that Obi-Wan was holding him back out of spite or jealousy. Surely Anakin would have seen this rule as just one more denial instead of an achievement to look forward to?

Obi-Wan was still sure he'd been right, but he now also realized that such a discordant interpretation of the Code and Jedi tenets as Anakin's was still his fault. His padawan's faith had always been selfish, had been born out of self-certainty and self-realized prophecies instead of a true belief or acceptance in the Will of the Force. Anakin had needed the whys in addition to the rules. But Obi-Wan had not been able to give answers to those questions he also did not truly understand.

He would never understand how Qui-Gon's death had served the Force, but he had grown to accept it - well, accept that it was something he couldn't change. He survived, he endured. He went on -- beyond the tortures against his body and heart, beyond the lies whispered in his ears as Dooku had joined Fett in seeking to taint any memory or belief in his former master that Obi-Wan held close before.

After all, not even a new dark lord of the Sith could break what his predecessor already had destroyed.

Obi-Wan didn't bother to bite back his moans when two Genosians pulled him upright and other's threw clothing at him. They were some of the same winged creatures that had caused many of his injuries in the first place, and staying quiet before had only encouraged them to work harder at making him scream. Additionally, Obi-Wan had already given up his feelings of embarrassment and humiliation to the Force, could even find some measure of appreciation in being hosed down and given an opportunity to be clothed, as both implied at least a temporary discontinuation of any - physical -- torture.

That the clothing were his own was confusing, and not just because he'd assumed them beyond repair after they'd been torn from his body by his captor's claws, teeth and primitive weapons. The fact that he was being allowed the trappings of a Jedi (except for his boots) -- that Dooku would know he'd find more than small comfort in having them -- was quite contradictory to the other ordeals and indignities Dooku had been subjecting him to. In fact, it only made sense if -

-- If he was to be put on public display.

Sham though the trial was, at least it had been quick. Undoubtedly his conviction of espionage had achieved yet another of Dooku's purposes even though he, Fett and all but the Genosian members of the Separatists Cabal has stayed out of sight. The Senate had seen only their own sovereign rights being upheld in a time of great threat and confusion. Obi-Wan could only hope his interrupted message to Anakin has made its way to the Council, that his fellow Jedi knew the truth of his mission and his upcoming execution.

He ignored the despair all this was to engender, actually going so far as to think his death might be useful as well as necessary. Perhaps a wiser and more experienced master might yet help Anakin back from the abyss his padawan was loosing himself within. For Obi-Wan knew that Anakin had been pushed toward the Dark, by Obi-Wan's own hands and actions, and the Council's as well as by fate and circumstance. Clinging to the hope that his padawan was not completely lost, or was at least redeemable was really all that Obi-wan had left.

Once more - for one last time - Obi-Wan drew not on his own not-quite- so-unshakable faith, but on his former master's. It had gotten him through the nightmare that had been his life for the last ten years, surely it could also get him through ten more minutes of the nightmare that was to be his rather colorful if barbarous death?

Obi-Wan was only half paying attention to the garbled, glottal noises that served as his captors' language, not really needing the droid's translation to know that he was to die in the midst of some grand arena with little opportunity to even defend himself. It wasn't quite as easy to dismiss the new damage and aches the walk to this arena was exacerbating, but knowing that they, too, were fleeting -

The abrupt presence of Jango Fett drew Obi-Wan out of the veil of disregard and indifference he'd begun to wrap himself within. The assassin wore his armor save for his helmet, and so Obi-Wan was treated to the other's gaze, as intense and challenging as it had been in their first meeting on Kamino. As openly … hungry as it had been in Obi-Wan's prison.

"Release him."

Yet Obi-Wan knew the low spoken words were not about freedom, and he couldn't help but feel a frission of fear as well as a sudden cramping in his body. Before he could move, could speak, could barely even breath, he was being forced back into the wall by Fett, was being forced to remember …

For an instant Obi-Wan froze as blind panic took hold, as Fett's lips crashed down on his own with enough strength to bruise even as the other's teeth also drew blood. This parody of emotion, of some sort of connection between the two of them was actually worse than the earlier physical abuse he'd suffered, and Obi-Wan sagged from both the mental and physical impact. Automatically he reached out to steady himself despite their close proximity and the heavy bindings that were crushing his wrists together. And then realized, a breath before Fett, Dooku's mistake in allowing this indulgence.

The last time Fett had come for him, Obi-Wan had still been reeling from the hours of torture, had been unable to rise, much less defend himself or think to escape upon his release from the energy restraints that had also been keeping him from accessing the Force. But this time he'd been allowed surprisingly long minutes of rest because of the necessity of the show trial. And this time his restraints were truly only that of his own resignation as he was being held inactive by simple metal and sheer numbers.

The Force - his mind -- was sluggish due to his deprivations, but it came readily enough to allow Obi-Wan to draw the blaster under his fingertips from Fett's holster. Obi-Wan didn't keep hold of it, could really only throw it away and down through one of the myriad of holes that pervaded the hive of openings and tunnels the Genosians lived and worked within. Fett had a second blaster - was reaching for it even as Obi-Wan had begun to pull away, but the assassin had also taken to wearing Obi-Wan's lightsaber at this belt, and that was what Obi-Wan next called to his hand.

Wielding it was only slightly less marginal than would been using a blaster; although built for a two handed grip, it had never been intended that Obi-Wan's hands would be bound together. Indeed, he nearly broke one of his wrists in just positioning the hilt and thumbing the weapon on as the only thing that gave in the bindings was flesh and bone. Yet Obi-Wan was not only able to deflect Fett's first few shots, but he also disarmed the closest Genosian's of their spears, two of them quite literally. And he'd only need a few uninterrupted seconds to figure out the locking mechanism of the bindings -

Not that Fett was going to let him have them.

In some ways the battle was similar to their first on Kamino, with the Genosians presenting only little more danger than the rain had been, as none of them carried ought but their spears. Of course, the aliens did have other weapons reinforcement would no doubt be bringing to bear, and so would prove as worrisome as Fett's clone son had been in their spaceship were Obi-Wan to prolong their fight.

And so as he'd done their first confrontation, Obi-Wan moved toward Fett instead of away, rapidly closing the distance between them until both of their held weapons would be as much a disadvantage as a threat. Unlike his allies with their wings, Fett couldn't use his jetpack to achieve any sort of maneuverability or escape within the claustrophobic walls of the warren surrounding them, giving Obi-Wan, despite the battered condition of his body and psyche, an advantage as he could use the Force.

Extinguishing his saber lest he damage himself, Obi-Wan slammed his shoulder into Fett's midsection, then brought the hilt and his closed hands up into the other's chin. Fett fell away but still shoved at Obi-Wan and almost immediately regain his balance. Obi-Wan didn't bother; even were his hands unencumbered, he could channel more strength into a kick than another hit. From a prone position he twisted and slammed his bare foot between the cuisses and greave of Fett's leg armor. Fett let out a howl though Obi-Wan had hit more with the ball than his heel and, therefore, the attack hadn't been enough to even crack the assassin's kneecap. Still Fett stumbled backward again, his jet pack now a hindrance as he landed squarely against it. For just a moment the assassin was immobilized, and without conscious thought Obi-Wan rolled to his knees and again let his saber blade blaze forth, ready to exact justice - or retribution.

His own pause in question of his motivation wasn't so much, but was still long enough for Fett to regain his senses and reach for one of the spears. Which lead Obi-Wan to discover that not all of them were simple sticks. Even as the tip sliced through tunic and skin, electricity crackled and seared the razor sharp cut.

Although Obi-Wan successfully cut through the vibroweapon, the advantage was slipping away from him as those Genosians initially fearful of a properly armed Jedi were now coming back into the area of the battle, and this time with blasters and other higher tech weapons. No longer a question of justice or retribution then, but the simple need to stay alive.

And so Obi-Wan gained his feet in a roll and a backflip and this time ran before Fett could once again match or hinder his moves. He'd not be able to run long, to run far, for even though the new cut wasn't particularly life-threatening, it still served to add to all of the other injuries and distractions that were keeping him from fully accessing the Force. At least he could call on it enough to make his way through the twisting tunnels, not caring to find a way out, just one away from those who hunted him …

Only to be brought up short just minutes into his flight, not because of any foe for dead-end, but from a feeling within the Force all too recognizable.

Anakin.

Obi-Wan found himself slumping into the nearest wall. From the spike of fear and rage screaming through the Force, not only was his padawan nearby, but he was also in trouble.

Oh Master, what do I do now?

"I don't suppose I could convince you to find a better hiding place and let me go after Anakin?"

Now it was only the presence of that wall beneath his forehead and hands that was keeping him upright. But not for long as Obi-Wan turned only to see a vision that could not be real.

The recognizable warmth of the arms that enfolded him as he crumpled to the ground only served to completely splinter his grasp on reality.

"Obi-Wan, no. This is real. I am real. But now is not the time to -"

Obi-Wan jerked out of the embrace although the wall now at his back kept him from being able to scoot any further away. And found that he could no more look at the familiar (beloved, dead) face than he could stand being touched. Yet even that briefest of glimpses before dropping his eyes to the ground he was finding exceedingly hard to hold onto, exploded into his memory. And into his heart.

Silvered hair, broken nose, crystal eyes the color of the Force filled with compassion - all was as Obi-Wan remembered/dreamed/saw every time over the last ten years that he had closed his eyes. It was Qui-Gon Jinn.

But it could not be.

"Obi-Wan -"

He shied away from the hand that reached for him, only to find himself collapsing into it when the world spun around him once again from the impact of his head against the wall. Nor could he resist this time when he was helped to his feet, then held close when he would have fallen. And the sudden influx of Force energy was almost enough to drown out the import of the other's words, so welcomed and welcoming, so known did it feel.

"Obi-Wan, I promise I'll explain everything. But Anakin -"

Anakin. His padawan. His padawan who needed him - needed someone. With a wrenching effort as much mental as physical and almost beyond him, Obi-Wan pulled back from the madness hovering just over his shoulder (holding onto him), and sent his mind questing through the training bond that he could almost imagine had an echo.

"He's being taken to the arena. He's with Amidala," he found himself elaborating, even as he shied away from who he was giving the information to, and from the greater knowledge (greater despair) his contact with his padawan had given him. Anakin was not just with Amidala in the physical reality. The two were as one already, and their upcoming trial would only serve to cement a bond that might never otherwise become consummated.

Well, Anakin's presence and predicament probably explained the lack of hunters who surely should have found him by now.

That, or maybe it was the presence of this last attempt by Dooku to … to -

"Obi-Wan, I am not from Dooku -- not a Sith. Or a clone -"

A clone? Of course! It made perfect sense. Fett had been involved with Dooku as well as the cloners for all that the army being grown was to be for the Republic. And who better to be in a position to clone Qui-Gon Jinn than his former master -

(-- Except his former padawan, as he'd come so close to doing, wanting --)

"Doesss it r-really m-matter what you are?" Obi-Wan stammered from a cold bone - soul - deep. He'd been arrogant to think he'd thwarted Dooku's will by knowing and holding onto the worst pain, the darkest moment Obi-Wan could ever imagine.

"Of course it matters!" the thing that wore Qui-Gon's face and held Obi-Wan's heart cried out, even as its fingers tightened around Obi-Wan's shaking arms.

How naïve to think that failing his apprentice could equal falling his master. Twice.

"Dammit, Obi-Wan, you didn't fail me then, but you are too close to doing so now!" was growled from a voice, in a tone that was just as perfect as the feel, the smell, even the emotions and the words that were sliding through Obi-Wan's mind.

Wait a moment! Words sliding through his mind?

Horror, anger and wonder pushed out the other's fear and exasperation, but Obi-Wan had no doubt that what he'd just felt had been real - had been deep in his mind where not even Anakin, Master Yoda - or Dooku - had ever been able to breach. Only one person -

"Q-ui-G-gon?"

The look of angry relief as almost even more familiar than all the other clues his senses had catalogued and his heart had been trying so hard to deny. The lips on the other hand were not, had never been other than as something out of a fantasy. They were also too frantic, too reminiscent of Fett's kiss. Yet even as Obi-Wan's lip split again under the violence of this intimacy, instead of being repulsed he could only deepen the contact between them.

He tasted blood, tears, but also the truth, and in another instant his mental shields collapsed along with his body. Only to be held close, to be sheltered and protected until he could stand on his own.

Qui-Gon, my Master, he thought/sent/knew.

My pure, if a little tarnished light, came back to him, filling mind and soul. My Obi-Wan.

"Not just tarnished, but tainted, I fear," Obi-Wan whispered as they broke their kiss yet made no further move to pull away from one another.

"No more so than myself in staying away from you, in betraying your trust, my own," Qui-Gon responded with his own regret, fingers cupping around Obi-Wan's chin to bring their eyes - and acceptances - together.

"I-I s-saw you b-burn."

"Instead of fading away," and Qui-Gon's voice now held the mildest of chastisements, even as Obi-Wan's lips were rubbed by his master's thumb. "Maul's blow was neither so quick nor unexpected that I wouldn't - didn't - have time to prepare myself for my death."

"B-but-" Obi-Wan had to pull away from the touch that brushed against the cleft now buried beneath his beard, as well as from the other's too knowing and loving regard. He was beginning to feel anger again, but still mostly confusion. And a returning sense of urgency that none of this mattered enough. Not now. Not yet.

"We fought a Sith, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon made to explain even as the two of them began moving in tandem toward Anakin and the arena. "There is never just one, and the Council felt that I could -"

"Yes," Obi-Wan agreed; almost understood. "And now Dooku -"

Even had he not been so certain before, Obi-Wan could never mistake or believe that the spike of hurt through their bond that also caused Qui-Gon to stumble, could be duplicated by a clone. Or a Sith. The loss of a padawan or a master, whether by death or the Dark, could never be mimicked - or understood - except by those who'd lived through it. And now Qui-Gon had … for both.

Obi-Wan was beginning to fear the same would be his fate as they could hear not only the cheers and cries of the Genosians, but the rumbles of battle droids and the thunder of several great beasts.

"Not while I'm alive," came the fierce promise just before the reached the light of the arena.

Which, of course, only proved Obi-Wan's point. That he'd have to live through Qui-Gon's death - twice, if not also Anakin's. But, dammit, not today. Not when he and Qui-Gon had only found each other once again.

Together they'd save Anakin from death - and from the Darkness.

Success was not a matter of fairness, but of faith.

-- finis --