Archiving: M_A and WWOBM have carte blanche. Others, please
ask.
Warnings: Beware all, for Yasmin is down with the flu and was
listening to Garbage's "Only Happy When It Rains" repeatedly.
HELLFIRE!OBI-WAN is out in full force here, supplemented by a
good dose of dark angst. Oh, and if the thought of two men
having sex with each other squicks you, what the hell are you
doing reading this, anyway?
Spoilers: TPM, the JA books.
Disclaimer: Lucas owns all. I'm only playing in the sandbox, so
please don't sue.
Well, Master... it's the end of our cycle.
It's odd, isn't it, how things come around?
Now I am the master. Not in name, perhaps, but in
practice.
How did it feel, Master, when you held my fate in your hands so
long ago? Was it difficult for you to decide to take a naive
thirteen-year-old as your Padawan?
I never found out why you chose me.
It was your choice.
And now you took away mine.
It should have been... it should have been... perfect.
You should be there to witness my ascension as a Jedi Knight.
You should be there as I lead yet another child into the way of
the Jedi -- a child of my choosing.
We made so many plans, don't you remember?
Or was I just a convenient fuck toy for you, Master? A puppet
for you to string along as you wish, a warm body in the night.
Lick a nipple, and he spreads his buttocks. Kiss his lips and
he'll take your full length, make you scream and moan with
pleasure. Play along with his guilty fantasies and he'll lay
out his heart and soul for your leisurely consumption.
Did our love mean less to you than your old robe?
Perhaps "our" is too expensive a word to ask for.
I wouldn't know.
I can't feel you in the Force, Master. There is nothing left of
you in this bloody gash in my being, just a few scattered
mementos in our cold quarters. I should have them burned,
but... I can't.
I thought you loved me.
You said you loved me more than life itself, Master.
So let's review the last moments of your life, shall we?
Anakin, the boy you gave up your lover for, gets said lover as
Master. I, on the other hand, gets an unwilling boy I
know is dangerous.
"Promise me you'll train the boy."
And not another word.
Oh, I remember the one gesture my Master so graciously afforded
me. Your warm fingers on my cheek, stroking it ever so
slightly... our private touch, one you only ever done in the
privacy of our bedroom.
I wish I could believe it was not done for more your benefit
than mine.
Don't worry, Master, I won't start crying. I have no tears for
you anymore.
I wish I could say I don't love you anymore.
Unworthy as I am in your eyes, I still love you.
Sad, isn't it? The rejected Padawan, still carrying a torch for
his Master.
I remember what you said to me on Naboo, Master. "I forsee you
will become a great Jedi Knight", wasn't it? I never could
figure out if you, despite your lack of talent in reading the
future, somehow knew your end was near and so tried to make it
easier for me to accept Anakin as my Padawan.
I will be a great Jedi Knight, Master. Great enough to
train this boy you foisted on to me, great enough to walk in
your legacy without looking over my shoulders to see if you're
watching. As great as Yoda, if that is the star I must reach
for.
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