Archive: M_A, all others just email me and let me know where
so I can visit. :)
Category: Angst, hurt/comfort, character death
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas, I'm flat-out broke after buying so many
Star Wars books. Don't blame me because they don't come out
often enough to keep my brain from spinning tales!
Acknowledgements: To ADM, for a fantastic middle-of-the-night
beta, and to BlackRose, whose exquisite JAOA universe bred the
bunny, which kept biting me till I fed it.
Feedback: Offlist please. No letter too small, no email
unanswered! sheltiesongs@hotmail.com, not my list addy please.
Summary: How do you say goodbye?
/thoughts/, [telepathy]
The old Master's body was silhouetted by the soft glow of
Coruscant's night sky. In the quiet dimness of the sleeping
chamber the only sound, omnipresent, was the uneven, damp hitch
of the old one's breathing. Then, a new sound. The door whirred
open, and soft, rapid footfalls crossed over to the sleep-couch
where Qui-Gon lay, half-reclined in a fruitless effort to ease
his labored breathing.
Gentle, gentle fingers lovingly stroked the sweaty brow, coaxed
the dry lips open to gain admittance for a tiny mouthful of
water. A soothing voice washed over the sick one like a healing
balm. A mind- touch as soft and cherished as a summer breeze
sought to anchor him to the here and now.
Five years. It had been five long, pain-filled years since that
horrific battle on Naboo. Qui-Gon had survived, due only to his
Padawan's own refusal to accept that he COULD die, but no
amount of bacta in the galaxy could make him well again.
Obi-Wan, newly made a Knight after his defeat of the Sith Lord,
had refused outright to be put on the mission rosters. Instead,
he had taken a teaching assignment, instructing Senior Padawans
in matters of diplomacy, so that he never had to stray too far
from his mate's side, taking on the burden of Qui-Gon's care in
its entirety once the Healers had released him, saying they
could do no more. There would be too much time, all too soon,
for missions and duty.
[Beloved?] Too weak for the spoken word, Qui-Gon's soft mental
caress meandered into Obi-Wan's mind. The long arms, once able
to wield a 'saber with the swiftness and dexterity of a
striking panther, rose a few bare inches from the sleep-couch,
they and the luminous blue eyes beckoning the young man into
their loving circle.
With a soft, half-sobbing gasp, Obi-Wan responded, slipping
quietly under the blankets. Seemingly of their own volition,
his hand's traveled his bondmate's body. His elegant fingers
mapped the well- loved features, tenderly tracing over soft
lips and bearded cheek.
"My love, my heart," Obi-Wan murmured in a choked little
whisper, tears cascading from his gray-green eyes to land on
the heaving chest. His head lowered, coming to rest on the
broad white scar, then his muscles tensed and he hurriedly sat
up again, eyes wide with fear, afraid even that loving weight
would be too much for Qui-Gon to bear.
[Please … I need you … close to me …] The
labored inhalations were harsher now, the breaths becoming
increasingly shallow. Qui-Gon's mind-voice held a note of
finality and a kind of quiet desperation.
/This is it!/ Obi-Wan thought frantically. /Force no! Please!
I'm not ready; please don't make me let go; don't leave me
alone!/ The pleas tumbled forth, one on top of another,
unheeded.
[It's the only way, Obi-Love.] Qui-Gon soothed, ever the
teacher, even in this.
Obi-Wan fought against the rising tide of panic and grief,
raining desperate kisses on that beloved face, then snuggled
close. He buried his tear-dampened face in the crook of the
other's neck, settling in to wait. The moments ticked away, the
old Jedi's rapid breathing catching now, coming more
irregularly.
Then it was over. The heaving chest suddenly stilled, peace
settling over the proud and noble features. Obi-Wan whimpered,
every nerve- ending screaming as the soulbond was torn asunder.
His arms clutched the body desperately to him, even as it faded
away into the Force. His shattering cries reverberated through
the night, the darkness a pale reflection of the emptiness in
his heart.