Title: Spiny Courvu
Author: Donna
Rating: G
Summary: Obi-Wan is injured while on a brief stopover after a successful
mission. Please note that this story also involves my original character
Anareal ( Ah-NAR-ee-al), the apprentice Qui-Gon trains previous to Obi-Wan.
Here, she is 18. Obi-Wan 15
No Spoilers but it helps if you've read the Jedi Apprentice series.
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the sole property of George
Lucas. Anareal is mine. Use her without permission and I'll hunt you down.
No money being made here.
***********
Anareal was alerted to their return by singing. Obi-Wan was singing - badly and off-key - and using words that would have made a pirate blush. She rushed to the entrance ramp and found Qui-Gon mostly carrying his happily crooning Padawan into the ship. They stopped at the top and Obi-Wan announced, loudly.
" Okay, I'm going to launch the ship now."
" Very well, " Qui-Gon replied, steadily, " Why don't we do that from your room?"
Obi-Wan grinned at his Master as if he was brilliant. " You're so smart," he said. " That's why you're the master. Okay. We go left here."
He struggled to make Qui-Gon turn and seemed bewildered when he met with resistance.
" I believe it is to the right, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, gently.
Obi-Wan came to an abrupt halt and looked right and left in deep contemplation. " Are you sure?" Obi-Wan's tone was so doubtful that Anareal smiled in spite of her confusion. He sounded as if he thought Qui-Gon had lost his mind.
As he struggled down the hall with Obi-Wan's almost dead weight, Qui-Gon said, " Yes, Padawan. Quite sure. Trust me." He had tried carrying Obi-Wan earlier, but his apprentice had fought like a sand panther, insisting he could walk on his own. Qui-Gon had then tried a mind trick, but in spite of his choatic thoughts, Obi-Wan's shields were firmly in place. Qui-Gon didn't know whether to be pleased or exasperated.
" Okay," Obi-Wan sighed heavily, as if he were humoring his master, " If you're sure. Oh, hi, Anareal. Have I told you how beautiful you are today? Of course, you're beautiful every day. Isn't she, Master?"
" Yes, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon answered.
Anareal peered at him quizzically, moving to put his arm around her shoulder and take some of his weight.
" Oh, that's nice," Obi-Wan inhaled deeply, " You smell good, too. Would you like to go dancing later on?"
" Master, what?"
Qui-Gon shot her grim look over Obi-Wan's head. " He stepped on a spiny courvu. It didn't break the sole of his boot but the main spine got through the leather and hit him in the ankle."
" Merciful Light," she breathed. It wasn't funny any more. Qui-Gon had warned them to watch out for the viscious little beasts while they were here. Only a ½ to 1 meter long when full grown, spiny courvus were still deadly. Pumping a toxin into their victims to render them helpless and peaceful, they ate them a little at a time. If the courvu didn't kill the victim, the poison eventually did. She should have realized sooner what was wrong with Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon had told them the toxin made the victim feel completely intoxicated, dead drunk. The only good thing was that Obi-Wan had no idea how much pain he was feeling.
They reached Obi-Wan's room and the apprentice pulled away indignantly.
" I can launch the ship myself," he proclaimed loudly, swaying unsteadily.
" Okay," Qui-Gon agreed, the lines around his eyes betraying his concern," Why not do that from your bed?"
" Sure," his apprentice agreed.
Qui-Gon started to reach for him again and Obi-Wan shrugged him away. " I can get there myself," he insisted in a tone of almost childish petulance. Obi-Wan took two steps before his ankle bent and he crashed to the ground.
" Obi-Wan!" Anareal cried, rushing to him.
" Hey! Who moved the bed?" he said, frowning in exasperation. He turned a puzzled look in Qui-Gon's direction. "Did someone move my bed? I think someone moved it." Qui-Gon was already picking him up, gathering him gently into strong arms and easing him onto the edge of the bed.
Obi-Wan looked down to find himself sitting on the bed and grinned triumphantly, " Made it! Told you I could."
" Yes, Padawan, you did," Qui-Gon nodded, holding him upright with one hand and releasing the catch on Obi-Wan's belt with the other.
" What can I do?" Anareal asked, breathlessly.
" I'm going to need a pail or a deep basin. Can you find one?" She heard the trace of his accent seeping through. Her Master was more worried than he was letting on.
Barely nodding, she ran from the room.
Qui-Gon was unwinding Obi-Wan's sash now.
" What are you doing?" Obi-Wan asked, a deeply puzzled frown on his face.
" We need to get you undressed and into bed," Qui-Gon said, reasonably.
Obi-Wan pushed him back roughly. " I can uh-dress myself," he said indignantly.
Qui-Gon took a deep breath. He had tried arguing with Obi-Wan on the beach after this had happened and his apprentice had become wildly violent. Since it was important to keep him calm, Qui-Gon had taken to agreeing with him. Agreeing with him seemed to work better.
" I know you can, Obi-Wan. You are very capable and I'm very proud of you. While you're doing that I'll just get you out of your clothes, okay?"
Obi-Wan smiled happily. " 'Kay," he wrapped both arms around Qui-Gon's neck like a Naboo spider monkey and peered at him, " You're so good to me, Master."
Qui-Gon quickly stripped him of his sashes and tunics, dropping them on the floor carelessly.
" You're s'posed to fold them, or put them in the recycler," Obi-Wan observed. " You always yell at me when I throw them on the floor."
" I will." Qui-Gon knelt and began unbuckling Obi-Wan's boot, the one that wasn't on his hurt ankle. He slipped it off easily. Obi-Wan was humming happily. Then Qui-Gon reached for the other one. He loosened it as much as possible.
" What am I s'posed to be doing, Master?" Obi-Wan asked.
" Letting me undress you. You're doing very well."
" Oh, good," Obi-Wan giggled, resumed humming, " Am I a good Padawan?"
Qui-Gon looked up into his apprentice's bemused face. "Yes, Obi-Wan. The best. Take a deep breath. Can you?"
" S'it important?"
Qui-Gon nodded and Obi-Wan breathed in hard. Qui-Gon jerked the boot off his injured leg as fast and gently as he could. Obi-Wan's eyes went round and the breath came out of him in a rush, " Oh!"
" All right?" Qui-Gon asked, anxiously.
" Yes, Master," Obi-Wan's silly grin returned.
Qui-Gon bent to inspect the wound, grimacing. It was badly swollen already and angry red in color. The courvu had been young, hopefully its poison was not as toxic as that of an adult.
" Master?"
" Yes, Padawan?"
" I'm going to throw up now, okay?"
Anareal chose that moment to return. Qui-Gon reached out with the Force, yanked the pail out of her hands and got it in front of Obi-Wan just in time. Qui-Gon held him tight, one arm around his shoulders, one hand against his forehead.
When he was finished, Obi-Wan sagged weakly and Qui-Gon laid him down on the bed. He placed his apprentice's head gently on a pillow, pulled one leg up but left the injured leg dangling over the side, foot on the floor.
Obi-Wan resumed humming.
Qui-Gon turned to Anareal. She was biting her lip and her eyes were wide.
" I'm going to need another pail," he said, softly.
She nodded. " I'll clean out that one."
" You're sure?"
" I think it's the only one on board. Easier to clean that than search for another one," she was keeping her tone light but fear was tinting her Force presence. " Can you help him?"
" Yes, but I'll need to stay with him. You have to get us off the planet and back to Coruscant as quickly as possible."
She nodded. " We're two days from Coruscant, but it's closest. What are you going to do?"
" Remove the poison from him, take it back out the way it got in, one molecule at a time if I have to," Qui-Gon replied grimly. " He doesn't have the presence of mind for any kind of healing trance."
Anareal stared at him and swallowed hard.
" 'Nareal?" Obi-Wan said, " I'll be up to help you take off in a minute, okay?"
Taking her cue from Qui-Gon Anareal said, " Okay. Can I help you get things started?"
" Okay," he sighed, " I do the clack ... clack ," he paused and giggled, " calculations for the jump. Did I tell you today how beautiful you are?"
" Yes."
" Oh, good. Love you. Like a sister. Always wanted a big sister. What's that word again, Master? T'lia," Obi-Wan giggled again and started humming.
T'Lia. Beloved sister in the language of Qui-Gon's homeworld.
Anareal walked over to the bed, leaned down to ruffle his spiky hair. Kissing his forehead she whispered fiercely, " Love you, too, t'li." Beloved brother.
Obi-Wan sighed. " That's nice. Master? You should make her a Knight."
" I will, and I'll make you one too. I promise," Qui-Gon said, " You rest now. Sleep." He passed his hand in front of his Padawan's face. Almost instantly, Obi-Wan's dilated eyes closed and his breathing evened out. His shields were collapsing. Qui-Gon didn't know whether to be worried or relieved.
Anareal lifted the pail with the Force, holding it far out in front of her. " I'll bring this right back and then I'll get us out of here," she told Qui-Gon.
He nodded, already bent over Obi-Wan's ankle again.
" Anareal," he said. She paused at the door and turned back. " See how much time you can shave off our return to Coruscant," he said, quietly.
Swallowing hard, Anareal nodded and hurried out of the room.
*********
Qui-Gon couldn't remember ever being this exhausted, especially not after
essentially sitting completely still for hours. Telekinesis wasn't one of
his strengths. Moving something on an almost cellular level had taken all
his effort and concentration. His reward was a pail of horrid grey liquid
mixed with traces of blood - and Obi-Wan lying in a peaceful, if feverish,
sleep. The worst of the poison had been drawn from his system. The fever
should burn away the rest of it.
Obi-Wan had woken only once, as the drunken effects of the courvu poisoning had been taken from him. Sweat broke out on his face and his hands flailed aimlessly. Thrashing in pain, struggling against the iron grip Qui-Gon had on his ankle, Obi-Wan had groaned desperately, " Stop. Hurts. It hurts. Stop. Stop."
Qui-Gon had placed a strong hand on his Padawan's shoulder. " Obi-Wan. It's Qui-Gon. I know it hurts, but I have to continue. Let me help you."
" Oh," Obi-Wan had murmured, subsiding," Qui-Gon."
He had been oddly touched by this show of faith. In great pain, Obi-Wan had still not thought to question his Master's right to be involved in it, and had relaxed back onto the bed in great trust. His apprentice's face still betrayed the pain. His fists had knotted into the sheets. He still hurt, but Qui-Gon was there. So it would be all right.
Using the Force, Qui-Gon had sent him back to sleep.
He had warned both his apprentices about the courvu when they had first landed on Valeska's 3rd moon. Valeska 3 was a virtually undisturbed paradise and he had brought them here to sample life at its fullest after the completion of a successful assignment on Valeska 2. The only caution he had given was about the courvu. Anareal, with her deep connection to the Living Force, would never had missed a creature buried in the sand right next to her foot.
Obi-Wan however, had probably already been thinking far into the future, probably had already been wondering about how to convince Qui-Gon to let him do the take-off and jump. The creature had burst from the sand and attacked him before Qui-Gon could even shout a warning. A flash of green had cut the thing in two.
Qui-Gon had had many heart-stopping moments since taking Obi-Wan as his Padawan. That had certainly been one of them.
Summoning the last of his strength, Qui-Gon found Obi-Wan a clean pair of sleep-pants and gently roused him. Groggy and murmuring incoherently, Obi-Wan had sat up and rested his head on Qui-Gon's shoulder while Qui-Gon stripped him out of his sweaty clothes. He offered no resistance to being gently sponged off and redressed, only asking in a bleary voice, " Qui-Gon? S'it you?"
" Yes, Obi-Wan," in a voice as full of comfort as his own exhaustion would allow.
" 'Kay," Obi-Wan sighed. A moment later he said, " I'm sorry."
Qui-Gon froze briefly. " It's all right, Obi-Wan."
" Didn't mean to," Obi-Wan murmured.
" Of course you didn't," his Master answered.
He had lifted him, finding him surprisingly heavy. Obi-Wan was all arms and legs and lean muscle. He had carried his apprentice to the other bed and put him down on clean sheets. He placed a pillow gently under Obi-Wan's ankle, wincing at the sharp hiss of pain that came from his apprentice. Covering his apprentice with a light blanket he touched his forehead gently.
" Go back to sleep, Obi-Wan," he suggested lightly. Had Obi-Wan struggled at all the attempt would have been useless, so great was Qui-Gon's own fatigue. But the boy had dropped immediately into a more peaceful slumber.
Sighing heavily, Qui-Gon sank to the floor beside the bed and allowed himself a moment's rest. Pulling the tie from his hair, he shook it loose and raked his fingers through it, scratching at his scalp. It felt too heavy for his head suddenly, his head too heavy for his neck muscles. Gathering it into a single tail at his neck he retied it and then reached for the ship's intercom.
" Anareal?"
" Yes, Master?"
" Can you come down here please?"
" Let me engage the autopilot. I'll be right there."
By the time she arrived, Qui-Gon had finished washing out Obi-Wan's wound with an anti-infectant and was carefully applying a padded bandage. She wrinkled her nose and winced when she came in.
" Phew!" she breathed.
" That bad?" Qui-Gon asked.
" You don't notice?" she countered.
" I've been in here with it. You get used to it."
Anareal looked at Obi-Wan's pale form. " Is he all right now?" she asked, almost hesitantly.
Qui-Gon nodded. " Yes, thank the light" he said, " I want to strip everything off the other bed."
" I'll strip it," she said, quickly. She hadn't remarked on it, but her Master looked like he was going to fall over. She had never seen him so drained.
" Put everything in the incinerator and then dump it into space," Qui-Gon instructed. " Try not to touch it if you can."
" The pail, too?"
He nodded again. " Yes. Everything." The way he said it made an icy shiver crawl up her spine.
Using the Force, Anareal quickly stripped the bed, bundled the sheets and then levitated everything, including the reeking pail, out the door ahead of her.
She had hoped to find Qui-Gon asleep when she came back. He had looked exhausted. She had hoped he would curl up on the floor and sleep. But this was Qui-Gon. Her Master was many things - a wise teacher, skilled diplomat and negotiator, fierce swordsman and cunning warrior. He was also a hopeless worrier, easily stressed if anything in his care became hurt. Qui-Gon wouldn't sleep again until Obi-Wan was the hands of the Jedi Healers.
He looked up to find her frowning at him. " He'll be all right," he said, thinking she needed reassurance.
" That's not why I'm frowning." Anareal walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. " Master, you need to rest."
Qui-Gon ignored her. She had known he would. " How far out of Coruscant are we now?"
" Less than a day," she answered softly.
In spite of his fatigue, Qui-Gon's head came up sharply. His eyes narrowed, became piercing under drawn brows. " It should take 2 days. I haven't been in here with him that long. How did you manage that?"
With glacier, Jedi calm, learned at the feet of her Master, Anareal replied, " I skimmed us closer to a supernova than the navi-computer would allow. I had to over-ride several safety features to do it. But it saved time and distance through hyper-space and I used the shockwave to push us as well."
Qui-Gon simply stared for a moment. Then drew a deep breath, slowly exhaled and said, " Well. I wouldn't want to try that with less than a Jedi at the controls."
She clasped her hands loosely in front of her and studied them carefully. " Should I have discussed it with you first, Master?'
Qui-Gon shook his head. " No. You are a Jedi, Anareal, and perfectly capable of making decisions."
" Nevertheless. It was dangerous, and you are my superior - both as a Master and as the senior Knight on this mission."
Qui-Gon studied her closely. Anareal was too serious, too solemn. He had taught her from the beginning to stand on her own and do what she felt was right, by encouragement and by his own example. She knew how to trust her feelings and to accept the consequences of her actions.
But she was far better at being apologetic and humble afterward.
Qui-Gon winced. " I'm not sure I appreciate the use of the word 'senior'."
TBC
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