Master
Apprentice  Archive
Seeking Redemption
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Author's web page: http://www.ravenswing.com/ravendreams/
Rating: R
Category: POV
Summary: Sequel to "In Line" available at http://www.ravenswing.com/ravendreams/fic/sw/li%27l%20fics/in_line.html
Notes: Velma encouraged this. She betaed it. She fed the bunny. All mistakes are mine.
Feedback: Waited for with bated breath.
Disclaimers: I don't have enough to pay attention. Lucas owns everything.
He screamed for hours. I learned the cadence caught within his pain, his fury, his fear. The rise and falls of sobbing, of wails, of harsh cries sounded almost like music -- a symphony of torture.
Not that what I heard was the result of torture. We're servants of the Light. We encourage, teach. We administer justice as we are called. We do not torture.
Still, the sounds were close.
I meditated. I read. I ignored the sounds and the images hidden within them like my master ordered me to. I did passably well, too; at least until I noticed I was performing the kata of peace to the rhythm of the low sobs leaking into the closed windows.
That made me ill.
Master Qui-Gon doesn't know. He wasn't up here. He was busy down on the beach with... I mean, he was helping... He finally caught Xanatos, caught that horrible black-hearted traitor. We were on a mission, finding out about Force-sensitives being sold as slaves. Master went out one morning and when he returned he had Xanatos on a leash.
On a leash, like a mindless, filthy animal.
I thought at first we would head home immediately, take him to the Temple. I thought he would face the Council, be tried for his crimes against the Republic, against the Jedi, against the Light.
We didn't.
My master says we can't, not yet. Not while there's a chance to redeem him. Master Qui-Gon says he can be saved, the Darkness removed from him. He says all that Xanatos has to do is want to repent. He says he's going to help, going to open Xanatos up to the healing power of the Force.
What I don't understand is why we came here, to this empty place. No healers, no protection, no life. Nothing but a rough stone-grey sea and winds and rocks and the constant threat of rain and a series of broken-down huts.
We've been here four days. He screamed for four whole days and my master never came up, never walked up the stony trail from the shore. He told me to stay here, so I've watched pink sunrises fade into grey days which darken into night, kept company by the screams.
There are no stars in this sky.
The sound stopped suddenly. It didn't fade, it simply stopped. For a moment, I thought I had gone deaf. Then I heard my master's footfalls coming up the path. His clothes were filthy, stained and damp and his eyes were dark and swollen.
He walked in, finished off my cup of tea, took off his clothes, settled himself in a cot and went to sleep. He didn't say a word. Neither did I. I think we were both enjoying the silence.
Fighting redemption can make you scream a long time.
He's out there. I can't see him, but I can hear him sobbing, talking, when the wind dies down.
"Somebody help me?"
I can't go look.
"Just a sip of water."
Master forbade it.
"Please."
What if he's hurt? What if the tide comes in? What if he's redeemed and my master is too tired to know?
What if he dies?
The rocks are sharp against my feet. My boots are stowed under the cot that Qui-Gon is sleeping on.
I won't stay. I won't speak. I'll just check and make sure he's...
Oh.
Who did this to him? Who bound him to that rusted pole, dressed only in ragged leggings, kneeling? Who left him, rope fastening elbows to wrists behind his naked back, swollen fingers slowly clenching and releasing? The bindings dangling down from his arms wrap around his feet -- or at least the raw, weeping flesh that was his...
Oh, Force. Redemption. He's evil, Dark, infected, Obi. Remember? Evil.
A sea creature, spiny and clawed, creeps from beneath his ankles with a chittering noise that makes me cold. I can see bloody sand clinging to its back and pinchers. It brushes against him, against his feet and Xanatos cries out softly, like he's tired, and the animal startles, moves away.
Is that what redemption sounds like?
"Who's there?"
The dark head whips around. His hair's been hacked off. But I just... I caught a glimpse of him when my master brought him to the ship. His hair was filthy, matted down his back like mud. Now...
Now it's as short as mine.
"Kenobi." His voice is raspy and makes my throat sore to hear it. His face is gaunt; cheeks impossibly hollow in the almost-light of the moon.
I don't know what to say. I shouldn't even be down here. I should be in the cabin asleep, not with this poor, smelly thing. "I came to see if..."
His eyes are the same as I remember, bright like an animal's, a twisted humor living in them. "If what? I'm not going anywhere."
There are marks on his chest -- burns. His chest is bowed, shoulders pulled back and tense. I can see the sand sparkling in the wounds. It has to itch. "No. You're not."
"Well then, Child, what do you want?"
"I'm not..." Damn it to the Sith's hell. I'm not playing his game. "I don't want anything. I heard you call out, wanted to make sure you were all right." I gesture to the sky. "It's going to rain."
The look on his face would be funny if it wasn't so furious. "Rain? You think a little water is going to hurt me? Are you blind? *Look* at me, Kenobi. I'm tied to a pole. I've been beaten, burned, starved and slammed with the Force for..." He bites his lips, pauses. "How long have I been here?"
"Four days."
"Four days?" Something close to defeat moves across Xanatos' face. "Can I have a drink of water? Please."
I nod. I have a canteen with me. I filled it before I left the cabin. I don't think I want to know what that means.
I give him a little. Not too much, he'd choke if he vomited in the position he's in.
He smells dead, like rotting meat and I can't help but flinch.
"Not so beautiful anymore, am I?" I can't help but shake my head and his eyes close. "I didn't think so."
"Why?" I shouldn't ask, but I need to know.
"Why what?"
"Why don't you embrace the light? He's only trying to help you, to save you."
"Save me? You poor little fool. He's going to kill me."
No, not my master. He wouldn't... "He wants..."
"I don't care what he wants, Kenobi. I want my freedom, my life back."
"If you weren't Dark..."
"What do you know of the Dark, braidling? Darkness, that's what they call it when you leave the Jedi and their stupid fucking rules and you live a life of pleasure and fortune. Darkness is what they call it when you embrace passion and fury and *life*. Darkness is what they call it when your master murders your father in cold blood and you have the audacity to get angry about it."
"Master Qui-Gon wouldn't murder anyone." I've heard the story. We all have. The initiates whispered it after hours, about the shame, the fact that the traitor had evil running through his blood before Master Jinn ever found him.
"Please. Are you trying to tell me you've never killed, never deflected a blaster bolt into a man, watched him bleed out? Don't lie, Kenobi. I'm neither young nor stupid. Dying clarifies things, you know."
"I haven't murdered anyone. People die in wars. I... Jedi only fight in defense."
"I know. I was a padawan once too, you know. Just like you."
"We're not the same!" Hush, Obi. Don't wake your master.
"Aren't we? Why are you here? I know Jinn. He told you to stay put, didn't he?"
I open my mouth to respond and shut it. The Force, he's got to be using the Force. I don't want to hear him, speak to him.
"It's not the Force, Kenobi. Hells, look at me. I don't have the strength to stop the sandspiders from biting me. I *know* him. I was you once." He stops, cocks his head. "Tell me, do you love him?"
"I... he's my master. We care for each other."
"Do you love him?"
I won't answer. He can't make me.
"I loved him too. I just couldn't be what he needed me to be. I still can't. I'll die for that failing."
I think I hear something -- footsteps, maybe? -- on the path above. "Shh. He'll hear you."
Those icy eyes blink. "Are you scared of him?"
"No." No, of course not. Never.
"Why did you disobey him?"
"I..."
"What do you think he'll do? Meditation? Hours of contemplation on how *wrong* disobedience is? That's not so bad, is it?"
"Stop it."
"Do you think he'll hurt you? Is that what you're scared of?"
"I'm not scared."
"Liar." The word falls between us, flat and hard.
I begin to turn away, to leave. I want to bathe, to get away from the smell of salt and pain and confusion. My master is waiting for me, warm and solid and strong.
"He did this to me. You know it. I wonder, is it because he hates me or because he likes to hear those he loves scream? Tell me, Kenobi, does he take you to his bed, fuck you? Does he make you scream? Do you like it when he does?"
I won't listen. A long strand of hair blows across his chest, uncurling from behind his right ear and my stomach clenches.
I want to cry, want to run. We're not... not yet, but I want to and I think he does too.
The hair flutters again, wraps across his throat. I can see lightning chasing itself in the clouds.
"One day, he will judge you unworthy. You know that, don't you? You will be weighed against his expectations and you will fall. I'll tell you secret, Kenobi..." he stops, voice somehow vibrant, aching with something that feels far too much like truth. "...falling hurts, burns like nothing else. Oh, but Obi-Wan, once you hit... Once you hit the ground, you're free."
The rain begins to fall, slow and heavy. He falls silent, chin dropped. As the torrent begins, he rolls his head up over his shoulder, motioning to the slick black tail on his chest. "You think he'll braid it and take it after I die? To remember me by?"
I feel something crack, shift deep within my chest. "No. He won't." I pull my knife from its sheath and move close to him. The hair comes away with a snarl. His eyes darken, but he doesn't flinch.
"Taking your pound of flesh?" The wind catches the hair, sending it out to disappear over the water. I slice his bonds and he falls forward with a wet slap. "What are you doing?"
"Seeking redemption."
He moves away, faster than I expected. "Come with me."
"No."
"No good deed goes unpunished, Child. This won't change me."
It's not him I'm concerned with.
I walk up the path, leaving us both to face whatever repercussions lie ahead. The sky lightens from black to grey.
The end.