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Archive - M_A Archive and my site: www.hawksong.com/laura
Category - Q/O
Rating - PG-13
Warnings - *That Scene Happened*
Disclaimer - These boys are mine only in my dreams and in my DVD player. They belong completely to King George, in a galaxy far, far away.
Summary - A response to a challenge Gloriana fed me. Greys, a rocking stone, and regret. Obi-Wan remembers.
Feedback - is a precious gift.
Thank you - To Alex for speedy beta and ever-faithful handholding, and Gloriana for not accepting "I can't think of anything" as an excuse.
Funerals for Jedi were simple - quiet respect, inward thoughts, and a final farewell. Orange sparks danced through the night air, burning out with a puff of smoke to mark where they once existed. Those gathered around the pyre accepted as a benediction the settling of ashes on their cloaks, turning them grey; ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
Obi-Wan stared into the flames, seeing through Qui-Gon's disintegrating body, through the smoke of his master's fading existence, his aching heart following his thoughts. If only they'd had more time, if only he'd been knighted earlier. If only...
He'd had a chance, once, to give himself to his master. He had loved Qui-Gon, and he knew Qui-Gon returned the love; and it wasn't simple apprenticeship love. Each wanted to possess and take the other's body, to give and receive pleasure, to form a deeper partnership.
But Obi-Wan, ever the pragmatic padawan even as a fully grown man, had turned Qui-Gon away at the first and only offer. An elaborate banquet with flowing wine had left them both pleasantly tipsy, easily cleared from their systems should they so desire. But what Qui-Gon had desired, Obi-Wan had resisted, citing attachment rules and Council censure. Qui-Gon had nodded and released him from the embrace, a brief moment of sadness in his eyes before he turned away.
It was the only regret Obi-Wan had: to never again be held as a lover by his master. The rest of his padawan training he held in esteem worthy of a national hero. Qui-Gon may have been a maverick, but he'd been Obi-Wan's maverick, and his memories were gilded with deep affection.
And now Obi-Wan's thoughts turned to the boy beside him. The prophesied Chosen One, the one to bring balance to the Force. The one he was now entrusted to lead to his destiny.
The notion reminded Obi-Wan of a boulder he'd seen once on a planet far on the Outer Rim, populated by the Zoans, a mostly non-technological and rather savage society. For as long as their oral history had recorded, this stone had held a precarious perch on the edge of a cliff, apparently defying gravity, weather, and nesting birds, a testament to the power and grace of their gods.
The Jedi had been called when the rocky soil beneath the stone finally gave in to erosion, causing the boulder to tip to one side and slightly over the edge. Convinced their gods were displeased with them, the Zoans had pleaded with the Jedi to help. To ease their fears, both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan had meditated with their shaman for spiritual guidance.
It had taken an elaborate ceremony involving feathers, body art, loincloths, a mysterious drink, and fire, but once the Jedi had used a gentle nudge of the Force to restore balance to the stone, the planet and its people were once again at peace. If the boulder had been left to eventually fall off the cliff, it would have quite likely destroyed the weave of Zoan society as their capital village vanished beneath the weight of a deity's anger.
Would Anakin truly be the one to push against the darkness that crept ever onward, embodied most recently by Darth Maul? Would this child tip the galaxy's inhabitants toward the light again?
"What will happen to me now?" the boy asked him, apprehension and firelight shadows clouding his features.
"The Council have given me permission to train you," he answered, the weight of commitment and Qui-Gon's plea nearly revealed in his voice. "You will be a Jedi, I promise."
And later, he would meditate in an effort to seek spiritual guidance from the one who had loved him most.
~end