Master Apprentice Archive Woman of my Dreams Quick search:

Archive: MA, or ask me

Category: AU, POV, Angst, Q/O eventually (Obi-Wan is 14 at the beginning but Nothing Happens until he is much older.)

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Character death.

Summary: Well it is almost Halloween. A creepy story.

Disclaimer: George's characters, not mine.

Feedback: Yes please

Note: Many thanks to Bonny for the excellent and speedy beta, and also to my Master Cuimne who is vexed by rl being very noisy at the moment. Acknowledgement: This fic is very much influenced by Susan Hill's "The Woman in Black", which I love. I've borrowed Ms Hill's eponymous villain so she can have some fun with the Jedi for a while.

I hadn't thought about her for a long time. There had been a time when she prayed on my mind. She was the cause of one or two sleepless nights, and many nightmares.

I look back now at the boy I was then: fourteen years old and apprenticed to my master for a little over a year, eager to please, to be a real help to my master. I was convinced that there was nothing the galaxy could throw at us that we couldn't overcome together. I stood at his side as he listened gravely to the Aelmahse representatives telling tales of torture, disappearances, of the "monsters" in the Klishchi military. How much was propaganda and how much truth was up to us to discover.

I remember being a bit mystified about our presence on the planet. The war which had divided the races there for many years was over, leaving behind the inevitable bitterness, accusations and mistrust. Allegations of war crimes had been made and we had been sent to investigate. Although I was quite sure anything incriminating would have long since been destroyed, our assignment was to sift through a mountain of records held in the former military headquarters of the Klishchi people.

As I listened, my eyes strayed around the grim meeting hall. A dark figure at the edge of the crowd caught my attention, and I shivered suddenly, the hairs at the back of my neck standing up. She was dressed entirely in black, the same twisted-knot motif on her chest as the elders of the Aelmahse. Her face was barely visible, shadowed by a dark hood pulled low. What impressed me from the little I could see of her was how white she appeared, not the pallor of the rest of her people, the product of too long spent confined indoors, but rather that she appeared to be colourless, with eyes little more than black shadows. Many societies distrust the Jedi, we aren't always welcomed with open arms. Mistrust and antipathy are common. But this... her expression... She hated me. Her malevolent stare was aimed purely at me. Tiny pricks of light in the dark pools where her eyes should be bored through me, fixed me.

I looked away at last, seeking reassurance from my master. I was certain he would be aware of the outpouring of loathing that was swamping my senses. But there he was, talking quietly to the representatives, apparently unaware of my distress.

The door to the chamber banged shut and I actually jumped. I looked again towards the spot where she had stood but she was gone.

As the talks concluded and the delegates made their way out, Qui-Gon looked at me, eyebrow raised in a question. "Padawan?" he asked as he took my arm.

"Did you see her, Master? The woman who just left? She was standing at the back watching me and then suddenly, she just sort of disappeared."

A couple of the Aelmahse slowed to listen as we made our way to the door, their expressions dark. Qui-Gon shook his head and the nearest, an old man with sparse white hair, moved closer to me.

"What did you see, young Jedi?" The look he gave me... I was sure he was afraid.

"She's gone now, sir. The lady who was standing over there." I pointed. "She had her hood up, I couldn't see her properly."

Other Aelmahse had gathered round by now and were also listening and I felt their growing anxiety.

"Master? I felt... something..."

"He saw her!" I heard the whisper. By this time we were out of the door and standing in the cold damp air of the evening. I shivered and pulled my cloak close around me. The next thing I knew I was on the ground on my back, the breath knocked out of me by my master's much larger frame landing on top of me. There was a loud rumbling noise and then we were showered in bits of broken masonry and dust as a sizeable part of the ornamental stonework above us crumbled and fell.

Without Qui-Gon's intervention I would have been under the largest piece. He had pushed me to the ground and I could only blink stupidly at the grey sky.

I was helped to my feet and we brushed ourselves down, my master assuring himself that I was all right. I muttered an apology - I should have known, I should have sensed the danger just as he had.

The locals around us watched frozen in horror, their faces aghast. No one moved to help, or to see if we had suffered any injury.

Looking up I could see the damage done by years of bombardment to many of the buildings in the area. It was no surprise that a chunk had fallen. It was just a distressing thought that I would have been under it.

As it seemed no one was prepared or willing to come forward and escort us, we made our way to the waiting transport that would take us to the Klishchi headquarters. The driver had witnessed the incident and almost leaped out of the vehicle as we approached. "You know the way? You can drive yourselves?" he said, backing away. Qui-Gon assured him that we would find our destination easily and the man ran off. There was no one else about; everyone had gone, leaving us alone.

"Unusual behaviour," said Qui-Gon as we threw our packs into the vehicle and climbed in.

On the way, Qui-Gon questioned me about what I had seen in the meeting hall. I was surprised that he had felt nothing of the brooding hatred, nor had he even registered the presence of the startling figure. That was even stranger than my own lack of foresight in not getting out of the way of the falling masonry.

The military headquarters was a large, depressing old building that had been allowed to get into a bad state of repair over the years. It was set apart from the main settlement and the road which led to it went through dank marshland, cold with winter fog. I looked up at the forbidding walls with black windows and felt thoroughly miserable.

Qui-Gon smiled. "This won't take long, Padawan. Just a few days. At least we will be out of this fog."

It was late in the day by the time Qui-Gon pushed open the heavy door and we entered. The place was largely unfurnished, having long since been stripped of anything serviceable. It did have power and so the lights and water supply worked. We soon found a place to sleep for our first night there - a relatively clean patch of floor where we unrolled our sleep gear and, after a frugal meal from our packs, we settled down to sleep.

That was the first time she entered my dreams. She looked exactly as I had seen her in the meeting hall - the same dark clothes, the same expression that set me shaking and wanting to get away from the loathing she projected at me. But now she carried a child, completely wrapped in heavy winter clothes. It was not a baby; the child - I couldn't tell if it was a boy or a girl - was about five or six years old judging from its size, and asleep in her arms. No, not asleep. There was no movement at all in the small body. The child was dead.

I awoke screaming, terribly afraid, but not knowing why. It was still dark and Qui-Gon soothed me and held me until morning.

Although we had brought some food with us, it had been arranged that a local would call every day and bring us fresh provisions. After the incident outside the meeting hall I wondered if anyone would actually show up, but early in the morning there was a loud knock at the door and when I opened it a basket of fresh bread, milk, cheese and fruit had been left. But the deliveryman was nowhere to be seen. He would have had to run quickly to be gone before I opened the door.

We worked hard that day, sorting and collating the data in the files left behind by the retreating military. By late afternoon my shoulders ached and my eyes were dry and sore. My master saw me fidgeting and suggested I exercise outside for a while. I was happy to agree, even though the weather was no better than it had been before with the thick fog swirling around, refusing to let the sunshine through.

I stretched happily and set off to explore the immediate surroundings in daylight, or what there was of it. The marsh crept close to the building in places, but there was a grassy area at the rear that was relatively firm underfoot. I threw my cloak down, deciding to practice a solitary kata to centre myself and stretch the kinks from my muscles at the same time.

As always, although aware of my surroundings, I concentrated on my body, my movements, regulating my breathing, my heartbeat and losing myself in the calm of the familiar actions. I even managed to forget her for a short time.

But there she was, standing impossibly out in the marsh. She was further away from me than the first time I had seen her, but her countenance was wretchedly clear. I staggered to a halt and stood facing her, panting, my breath visible, adding to the fog.

"What do you want?" I shouted. Then I remembered the dead child in my dream and I turned and ran.

I don't know how I ended up in the marsh, sinking, choking, unable to reach firm ground. I couldn't swim through the sucking morass; couldn't feel anything but the freezing cold of the water. I couldn't breathe for the muck that filled my mouth and nose and it got into my eyes, blinding me.

Strong arms using the Force pulled me out and dragged me to safety. Qui-Gon carried me inside and dried me down, got me reasonably clean of the mud, and settled me by the fire in the grate. He told me he hadn't come looking for me because he'd sensed danger, he merely wanted fresh air himself. My master was almost as shocked as I was at finding me struggling out in the marsh. He asked me what had happened, and I told him. My story made little sense to me. A warm drink was pressed into my hands and I shakily sipped.

"You're sure it was the same woman? The one you saw before?" I assured him that she couldn't be mistaken for anyone else.

I wasn't at all hungry, but at his insistence I ate a little. We settled down for the night as darkness fell. I didn't care about appearing childish as I huddled close to my master.

When I awoke from a thankfully dreamless sleep, I was alone. Qui-Gon had already risen. Mud from the marsh still clung to me so I ran a bath. The bathroom fittings were very old and pitted but they worked and soon I had hot steaming water filling the tub. I sank in gratefully and scrubbed at my dirty skin. There was a loud knock at the front door which heralded the arrival of our fresh provisions, and I could hear the door being opened. Qui-Gon must have been waiting for the delivery.

I fell back contentedly, closing my eyes. The air in the room was chilly, and I slid further down in the hot water. Down and down, further... And I couldn't get up, the water was over my head, a bony hand was pressing me down, holding me under as I splashed and struggled. I should have been able to stay underwater comfortably for many minutes, I had trained long in the Temple pools, but the water was in my mouth, in my lungs, I couldn't breathe. The blackness overcame me.

I awoke on the cold tiled floor, coughing and retching.

"Thank the Force," Qui-Gon said quietly over and over again as he helped me to sit up and wrapped me in a towel.

Still coughing sporadically, I dressed with my master's help, and together we returned to our makeshift bedroom. He collected our things together and with his arm around my shoulders he led me outside to the transport. We left the building and very soon left the planet behind. He only told me that another team would be assigned to finish the work, and refused to discuss the matter any further.

It was many years later when I finally learned what had made him decide to leave our mission there unfinished. We were lying together in our bed, comfortable in the warm glow that filled us after lovemaking. We had returned the previous day from a particularly trying mission to a hot swampy planet where I had managed to fall into the mud several times. It felt so nice to be clean again. Memories of that other cold swamp came to mind, so I asked him.

Qui-Gon had waited for the delivery man to arrive with our food and collared him before he had time to run off again. He had learned the story of the long-dead woman whose visitations always signified the death of a child. She had given birth to a child who died young. The man was uncertain of the details, but the woman was blamed for the child's death. Her spirit walked, exacting revenge on the living by taking their children.

"But I wasn't a child then," I said. Qui-Gon reminded me that, in the eyes of the law and on most planets in the Republic, fourteen years old was still considered a child.

"Well, we thwarted her. Or at least you did, Master. She must not have reckoned on the help of the Force."

We laughed and I proceeded to show him that I could certainly be no longer considered an immature boy. How sure I was then that we would always be together, that we would never be parted.

Then I was left with a padawan of my own, a promising youngster found like so many other creatures and brought back by my maddening, annoying and beloved master. Well, I gave Qui-Gon my word as he lay dying. I began the boy's training, though it felt like I was a droid performing a preset program. I wonder how long it will be before I start to feel anything again.

I didn't even feel anything when I ran down the Temple corridors today to the training room, scooped up the small body and held him. Another padawan was sobbing, being comforted by the training master. An unfortunate accident. A training sabre that should have been set low was in fact on full. It should have shut off when the padawan released the switch as he brought the blade to his opponent's heart.

I can't carry out my promise to my master. The young boy with so much potential, who would have been a great Jedi knight, so full of the light, is dead.

It wasn't the Force that alerted me to the accident. Nor did I have anything like a training bond with the boy. I knew what would happen when I looked up from my data terminal in my room to see her standing there. Here, on Coruscant. In the Jedi Temple. Exactly the same after all those years - the face a mask of hate that made my blood run cold. But there was something else that made me run to Anakin. It was her look of triumph.