Master Apprentice
Archive
The Space Between
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Archive - M_A Archive, and my LiveJournal
http://www.livejournal.com/users/lauramcewan/ ; all others just ask.
Category - Q/O
Rating - PG
Warnings - none I can think of
Spoilers - For Episode 1 TPM and Episode 4 ANH; nothing no one shouldn't already know anyway.
Disclaimer - These boys are mine only in my dreams and in my DVD player. They belong completely to King George of Lucas, in a galaxy far, far away.
Summary - Two halves wait to be made whole.
Feedback - I worship it. Like sausages, feedback is my very sacrament. (Email or on my LiveJournal post of this story.)
Notes - archivists, [italics] thank you!
This was just one of those bunnies that bit while I was listening to a CD. The kind where your head snaps up and you pay attention.
Thank you - To Alex and Briony for unbelievable encouragement and support, and to the Dave Matthews Band for beautiful music and lyrics.
Rebel and loyalist. A teacher, always a student. Old in years, young in spirit. Gray as winter dawn, blue as summer sky. Strong in body, soft in heart. Wise, yet blind.
And somewhere in the space between, Obi-Wan had waited, living in bittersweet torture, so near to this godlike man, and yet so far from the arms he longed to have wrapped around him, from the heart he wanted to hear beating beneath his cheek, from the voice that would speak his name in adoration.
Hot ashes drifted from the burning pyre, settling on the hood of Obi-Wan's cloak, dusting it gray as winter dawn, the flickering flames edged blue as summer sky. A teacher lost in a brutally final lesson, struck down by a hatred as red as The Demon himself.
Ever blind to Obi-Wan's truth, never wise of it. Loyal always to the cause, his strength betraying him in the end. Protecting Obi-Wan: his heart, his love, his life. Too long, he kept his silence. Too long; now too late.
And somewhere in the space between, Qui-Gon waited as the young knight struggled against the consuming darkness in the boy, ever respectful of his Master's dying wish when Qui-Gon drew his final ragged breath. A breath more wisely used sharing his truths: what Obi-Wan meant, how much he needed him.
The Force whispered to him, not yet... and the Master waited. Time shifted effortlessly, from then to now and back again, looking for the elusive moment when the Force would finally whisper, now...
A deadly flash of mercurial red reflected in Anakin's black armor, and his Master's muted brown cloak fell silently, gracefully to the floor, in one moment emptied of the pain and anguish of far too many years lost in the space between.
Gray as a winter dawn, gold as a summer sunrise. Blue as a mountain lake, green as a raging sea.
Joyfully met in one silent, perfect space, between one world and the next, heart to heart, hand to hand, man to man.
~end~