(written on Squidge IRC #tpm -209.157.141.178- on 5/31/99 -in
alphabetical order- by:
Elani, Jennie, KirbyCrow, Lilith, Marnee
PG, M/M Romantic Situations
Archive: YES
Disclaimer: "In a penthouse somewhere, George Lucas is
wondering where he screwed up." Ahem; Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon
belong to George Lucas. No copyright infringment is intended.
We're not making any money off of this.
Note: A bit of stream-of-consciousness creativity while on
channel TPM. Poetic license has been taken with what was
originally written online. Blame Kirby! All grammatical
mistakes are Kirby's! Special thanks to Lilith for comic
relief. BAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
Feedback welcome. Flames: Now, why would you wanna do that?
I should have told you.
There was no pain at first. The point of the Sith's weapon went
into my chest almost effortlessly. Mere flesh is no hinderance
to a lightsaber. And then you were there. Flashing sword,
dancing, a patch of light in all that red agony.
I lay there and watched. I was unable to hide my feelings from
you, feelings that I had kept so deep below the surface. I am
the master. You are my pupil. This is the way of it. This and
nothing more.
And now you know that is a lie...
You exploded forward as the airlock cycled and the shield
dispersed, charging after the Sith. Too much anger, my Padawan.
Careful... careful...
For a moment it looks like you're dead, too, and perhaps we
will be together after all. But no, you triumph. I knew you
would. Well done, my pupil.
So young. You were such a good pupil. You fight so well that
sometimes I forget how young you are. Was I ever that young?
Oh, and why are you crying? Don't you know that this is the way
of things? That the Dark Side appears to triumph at times, for
the dark cannot live without the light.
Come closer.
You run to me, visibly shaking, eyes welling with tears. Even
if you could muster your control to summon the Jedi healing
abilities, it is too late for me. But you take me in your arms,
and I feel you gathering the last of your precious strength to
try to save me.
"Too late," I manage to whisper. I feel your mute and helpless
denial, even as I sense your pain in the unwanted knowledge
that I am right.
I wish that my last sight of you, my Padawan, were not marred
with so much pain. I wish for so many things. But it is enough,
for these final moments, to be in your arms.
I hate to use my last words for anything but telling you how
very much I have loved you, but if I don't speak of Anakin now
you will be lost. And a storm is coming, Padawan. I will not be
there to protect you. Hear me... Beware...
You agree to my last request, as a dutiful apprentice should. I
can't breathe anymore. I have to hope that the caress of my
hand will speak the words of my heart. I have to hope you will
understand.
I taste salt on my lips. Your tears. It is then that I know I
can't let it end like this. I can't let go of you without
pulling away these barriers that have kept us apart for so
long.
My hand slides across your tear-streaked face, across your
lips, and you turn your head to kiss my fingers in passing. I
hear your voice in my mind.
Don't die. Don't leave me, Master
The light is reaching for me now, a great golden dragon with
wings curled to shelter me, ready to carry me away. I feel its
claws sinking painlessly into me, dragging me away from you.
No! We need more time... so much more... so many things left to
share.
I feel myself fading, fading, but I can't go yet, not without--
I cannot speak further, but you hear me nonetheless. As you
bend forward a tear falls on my lips and slips inside my mouth,
salt-sweet.
"Master," your grief caresses me. Leaning closer, you let your
lips brush mine.
The living warmth of your breath brushes my face. I crave it as
a last defense against the cold light that grips me
insistently.
"Padawan..." I whisper against the corner of your mouth. The
last time, perhaps, I will say it, and the word means more to
me now then ever before. I pray for the Force to watch over
you.
"My Master," you respond against my lips, before pressing a
deeper kiss to my mouth. I taste you, for the first and last
time, and suddenly I am warm again.
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