Summary: Qui and Obi learn that love can be more powerful than
grief.
Feedback: yes, please. Any and all comments welcome!
Disclaimer: The boyz aren't mine, much as I wish they were.
They belong to George Lucas, who is a kind man for creating
such a wonderful universe for us all to play in.
In the scheme of the universe, the life of a star is but the
blink of an eye. Matter comes together and forms a light, heat,
swirling gases that thrive under unthinkable pressures and
struggle to outlast each other under the reign of an unfeeling
god. That god is Time, and he rules without thought, without
passion, stealing life and breath as his whim takes him, as the
universe slides into the steady decline of entropy. We, as
sentient creatures, do what we can to rail against it, to
divert our fate from its inevitable course, but in the end we
are destined to lose. Because Time is an eager god, hungry for
sacrifices, and with childlike enthusiasm, it devours all who
stand in its path.
If the life of a star is fleeting when viewed through the eyes
of eternity, how much more so the life of a man.
I try to look at him through eternity's eyes, but all I can see
is the way the starlight glistens on his hair. He is beautiful.
His sorrow enfolds him like a mother's arms, and I am hesitant
to disturb it, but he is calling to me. It is a voice without
words that I hear, the strident strains of a soul's tears. I am
helpless to resist its call.
He looks up at me as I approach, and he smiles. Such a
brilliance should rock the galaxy's foundations, but there is
only the gust of a gentle breeze that brushes across the
smoothness of his cheeks. I echo its caress, cupping his face
in my hands as I sit beside him.
"Master," he says to me, and it is the only word that needs to
be spoken between us.
I can read the gratitude in his eyes. Below us, the ground
falls away to meet the edge of the river, a great frothing
monolith of motion that absorbs and refracts the light,
appearing almost still at times in the shifting darkness. I had
discovered this place an age ago, when I was still young and
faced with a span of years greater than that which I had
already lived. A narrow, nameless river on an uninhabited and
equally nameless planet, it would be of little note to most.
Yet it called to me, speaking to that hidden heart of me that I
only came to recognize after many years had passed. Sitting
here, as we are, this river is Time, and in the darkness we are
perched at the edge of the Void, near to but not yet a part of
that great mystery.
I have come here many times over the years, when my soul
requires peace. It is only fitting that I share this sanctuary
with him now.
There is peace in his eyes, and although it is both fragile and
hard-won, it soothes me. It is a difficult thing, to lose a
sister. More difficult still when that loss leaves only the
comfort of a little-known brother as company, half a galaxy
away. And myself, of course, but I am not his family. I am both
less and more to him, and it is this that binds us here
together now.
The stars wheel above us in chaotic harmony, a brilliant blaze
of light and beauty that reflects in the shimmering planes of
his eyes. I see tears there, acknowledged yet still unshed. And
still I sense only peace in him, as the quiet flow of grief
melds into the acceptance of what cannot be changed. His
courage is a marvel to me. I am awed by his strength, and I
wish for one second that someday I could be his equal in this.
Below us, the river is flowing, inexorable in its quest to
reach the sea. The stars are a tapestry of light in the sky
above us. Here, trapped between eternity and Time, all is still
and dark and quiet. A soft breeze bends the silver grass,
lifting my hair against my face. For this one moment, there is
only the feel of his face in my hands, the sight of him, the
scent.
And, finally, the taste of him, as I bend to kiss his lips. He
opens to me, his sigh a soft expulsion of air against my face.
His eyes are closed now, and the faintest tremor moves through
his frame, but when I move to release him his arms close around
me.
His eyes are beacons in the darkness, filled with a longing
that causes my soul to tremble. I soothe him with a touch, and
he folds against me; his body fits easily inside the curve of
my arms, as if I had been created with exactly this purpose in
mind. I kiss him again, this time on the top of his bowed head.
The spiky brush of his hair is ticklish against my lips.
It is his hands that move to undress us, and I allow him to do
so without comment, captivated by the way the starlight touches
an edge of silver on his hair, winking on a single bead that
has been woven into the length of his braid. He pauses once,
his eyes asking a question that he cannot give voice to, and I
soothe his fears with a smile. *Yours,* my eyes tell him. *Take
what you need from me.*
And he does. He lays me down against the soft grass, and I sigh
as I see him silhouetted against the star-wracked sky, an angel
outlined in silver light above me, radiating love and passion.
His hands are warm on my chest, and as I touch him I am amazed
anew at the flawlessness of his skin, the way it slides like
silk under my hands. He trembles under my touch, and I am
aching with arousal now, my need for him overwhelming. The air
is filled with low, panting breaths and soft gasps, the
ages-old music of passion.
He lowers himself onto me, his legs tucked close around my
hips, and I bend my legs slightly to cradle his body against
mine. He smiles, and it is as if we had been meant to fit
together in this way, as if neither of us is truly whole when
we are apart. He moves his body in a silken glide that leaves
me breathless, and my heart feels near to bursting with the
love that I hold for him. Part of me wants to close my eyes,
for the sight of him in his passion is all but blinding, but I
cannot look away.
My body moves without my conscious volition to meet his rhythm
as he claims me. I am his, and in this moment it is he who is
the master. Symmetry. It is the nature of the universe that a
balance be kept.
His head tips back as his pleasure grows, revealing the arching
curve of his slender throat. I want to lick it, to taste the
salt of his skin, but I am distracted by the heat of his
arousal in my hand. His breathing quickens. His eyes are slits
of impassioned fire in the night, the expression on his face
one of startled ecstasy, framed on one side by the swaying
outline of his braid. He bends over me, and as I reach up to
touch his lips, he kisses my fingers, rubbing the side of his
face against my palm. Oh, my love. I am consumed by my desire
for you. Again, he smiles at me, and I feel as if I have been
blessed by the gods.
When the moment comes, his entire body shudders over me, and my
breath catches in my throat as I take in the sight of him. He
is exquisite in his ecstasy, his head falling back as he cries
out his passion to the stars. I want to watch him, to accept
the gift of the rapturous vision before me, but my body is
determined to follow him. Pleasure, liquid heat, and a cry is
torn from me as the release sings throughout my limbs, blinding
me in waves of encroaching ecstasy. For one bright moment, the
universe has ceased to exist, and there is only the two of us
in the perfection of our love.
Slowly, like a reluctant star falling down from the heavens, I
return to full consciousness. He is wrapped securely in my
arms, cuddled in close to my chest where he lays beside me in
the grass. The peace that I feel in him is not quite so fragile
now, and I allow myself to be content that the greater part of
his grief is passing. His eyes are smiling, and when I move to
kiss him, his lips are open and responsive under mine. The
sound of the river is cradling beneath us.
A loss such as his can never be entirely purged - a sister, a
life, a void that will never be filled. Time has taken her from
him, and the irony of it is that only Time will heal his
wounds. In the meantime, we are together, and that is his
strength, his purpose. It is that which gives us both hope
while we lay here together, awaiting the dawn.
I've learned something profound throughout my years in this
life, and it is a lesson that I believe he is beginning to
understand. Despite its pain, despite its ferocity, despite its
tears, there is a power before whom even Time must bow.
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