"When All You Have Left.." part 1


WIP Story

Title: When All You Have Left..
Author: Eryce
Email: yien@yahoo.com
Category: Angst, Drama, Adventure
Rating: PG 13
Archive: Jedi Apprentice, Early Years, OKEB
Spoilers: JA
Disclaimer: George Lucas owns all Star Wars characters. The rest belong to me. Not getting paid for this either so I guess I'll borrow them and return them relatively intact.
Feedback: I thrive on it.
Time Frame: 10 years before TMP. Obi-Wan is 15
Summary: Not sure how to summarize this. Umm.. Qui-Gon lets his eyes cloud his heart and Obi-Wan gets hurt because of it.
* means *italic
***********************************


The confrontation
-------------------------

Obi-Wan’s head cocked to one side with genuine curiosity on his face, studying Qui-Gon’s expression, as if trying to judge out the man’s sincerity. Qui-Gon did not flinch from the intensity of the gaze but his heart thudded unbearably in his chest.

* Please forgive me, Padawan. Please.*

“I’m sorry, Master Jinn. You want forgiveness but unfortunately, that is the one thing I cannot grant you.” Real regret was now in those sea green eyes. “I really want to. I want to be able to forgive you and emerge from this sea of misery that you have abandoned me to. I want to be free of my anger and hurt. More than anything, I want wake up from this nightmare and pretend that the last two months never happened.” With those pain laced words, a ghost of a smile graced those pale features. Obi-Wan turned away from his former Master to gaze out into the open horizon with his fists clenched tightly to the railing. “But I can’t. I won’t. Anger and pain are the only reasons why I’ve survived so far, keeping tethered to reality and stopping this slide into this pit of depression that threatens to destroy me everyday. I am no longer a Jedi and anger is something I have learnt to embrace. You’ve succeeded in taking all that I believed in, I won’t let you take away the only thing I have left to cling to.” Turning back, he fixed Qui-Gon with an almost sad look. “So now you see, I won’t forgive you because I cannot. Not now. Perhaps not ever.”

His green eyes grew unreadable, Obi-Wan gave his former Master a cool glance. “In the future, Master Jinn, I would appreciate it if you would stay out of my head.” Obi-Wan tapped the side of his head. “Number one, you no longer have the right..” Mocking grin. “..and number two, you might not like what you’d find there. Fear is the path to the dark side and one fears what one does not understand.” Obi-Wan paused for a moment and then his tone grew hard. “After all, Qui-Gon Jinn, you cannot understand emotions that you cannot feel.”

With that, Obi-Wan bowed and left, leaving Qui-Gon chilled by more than the wind.


Two months before
Coruscant

*Sometimes*, Obi-Wan thought with a mental sigh, *being a Jedi isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be. *

Most days he was proud of who he was, a Jedi, a defender of light and protector of innocent. Most days, he was perfectly willing to face any form of hardship, giving up on many comforts of life that most people take for granted in the name of peace. A warm bed, a hot bath and decent cooking. After all, did he not wade through a stinking swamp for two weeks in a row, searching for some obscure prophet that the people of the planet Sendar insisted needed to be found before the general elections which could end years of strife and civil war? The prophet who also turned out be a cranky old man who took a perverse delight in Obi-Wan’s misfortune when he fell face-down in muck and ended up “wearing” the most interesting combination of the rotting vegetation and mud. By the time they got back to the capital, the mud had dried and he stank… badly. Needless to say, the general population avoided him (even his Master took pains to avoid standing next to him) and he spent the rest of the day in the fresher. But he did complain about this loss in dignity? Well, maybe a little, but he took it as one of the many hurdles in the life of a Jedi, albeit a smelly one.

Most days, danger that would have made most grown men whimper with terror was something he faced head-on with a smile on his lips. Running really fast while deflecting laser blasts was just another mundane aspect of his life. Facing three headed monsters with tentacles which were as long as he was tall, without ending up as the main course of lunch was another. Obi-Wan shuddered, thinking back to his most “dangerous” mission, entertaining a bored wife of a very important ambassador while her husband negotiated a peace agreement. In fact, the ambassador was absolutely ecstatic that someone under 20 was available and insisted that Obi-Wan stayed with his wife, saying that she was fond of children. That was when he found out that she had an over abundance of maternal instinct, treating him like a toddler in need of constant attention at all hours of the day. And she that could be rather shrill when he tried to convince her that he was a mature Jedi, not a baby in need of a bedtime story. He was rather suspicious when the tears magically dried up after he gave in, aghast that he made her cry. The young Jedi protested quite vehemently to his amused Master but the only reply he got was “We all must do what we must, young Padawan. This would be your little contribution to the proceedings.” The Master has spoken and he was trapped with no escape. The talks lasted for 4 days and the whole time passed slowly for Obi-Wan in a nightmarish blur of hours of baby talk, tight hugs to an ample bosom, pinched cheeks and lullabies in a horribly high pitched voice (personally, Obi-Wan thought a singing bantha would sound better), effectively eliminating any possibility of sleep. When his Master finally came to rescue him, Obi-Wan practically dragged a smirking Qui-Gon out of the building and into the waiting shuttle.

Yes, most days, he could and would face anything that the life would throw at him with a serene countenance with plenty of jokes to spare. In his fifteen years of life, he has learnt that life had the soul of a prankster and that it had appointed Obi-Wan as the perfect victim. Which would probably explain the swamp. And ambassador’s wife. And why he was quietly escorting two suitably eminent ambassadors from a warring planet through the halls of the Jedi Temple while Qui-Gon was attending a council meeting. Two ambassadors who were at this moment in time, “discussing” with increasing volume about the characteristics of their respective family members with words that probably shouldn’t be heard in the company of children while Obi-Wan tried to keep them from killing each other.

“Your mother is an ugly (censored) dog!”

“Your uncle (censored) (censored)!”

Wincing at a particularly vile curse, Obi-Wan moved forward to separate the ambassadors… yet again. He wondered if it would help to stand in between them when a fist nearly collided with his nose. The two ambassadors who were the two wisest adults of their respective clans, here to negotiate peace… were engaging in a wrestling match in front of the dining hall like two brawling children. The young apprentice rolled his eyes and let out a long suffering sigh. It would be so easy just to walk away and let those two kill themselves. At least then, they would be doing something useful. But the Jedi never took the easy way out. Not that he wasn’t tempted. But no. After all, staining the floor of the temple’s floor was a big no-no. And knowing his luck, Obi-Wan would probably be the one who would be assigned to clean up the mess. Right now, Obi-Wan would have willlingly accepted that punishment but knowing his Master, it was probably a test of his patience or something.

* Why me? Why do I always get the babysitting jobs? *

Another sigh. Keeping tight hold on his fast fading serenity, he untangled the two ambassadors from each other and hauled them up on their feet, earning himself a glare and an insult that made his hair stand.

* The sooner I get rid of them, the better.*

Keeping a wall of pure force in between them, he firmly escorted the two down the hallway once more as the ambassadors resumed trading insults.

There were times in his life when Obi-Wan questioned his total devotion to the Jedi Order. Today was definitely one of them.


*Force, I’m tired!*

Obi-Wan went boneless as he sank into the couch in his quarters. He had finally managed to get the two squabbling ambassadors to the required destination relatively unscathed when this unexpected weariness crept over him, leaving him with barely enough strength to walk to his quarters. It had been hard, the last few months, going from mission to mission with barely any rest in between. Qui-Gon finally made a formal request for a short break after they were nearly killed ten days ago by a band of rebels who did not appreciate what they deemed as interference in their planet, and both Master and Apprentice returned to Coruscant for some much needed rest.

Obi-Wan sighed and gently massaged his temple. He should probably get started on his chores but he couldn’t make his body obey his command to get up. Fatigue had been a constant companion that no amount of sleep could dispel, even after seven days of rest. And it didn’t help that he just recovered from a mild case of flu. He knew he should probably see the Healers for a medical examination but oh, how he hated those sterile white rooms. After having been more than his share of medical bays, just being in close proximity with a Healer gave him the jeebers. It was probably nothing, just his body recovering from the effects of flu and exhaustion. Nothing more. Nothing a few days of rest wouldn’t cure anyway.

*I hope! If I have to get another shot… I swear I’ll kill myself! *

In the mean time, all had to do was to hide his poor state of health from his Master. No sense worrying the man needlessly . Luckily, his Master was much too busy cooped up in the Council Room to keep a close eye on his apprentice. Obi-Wan took a deep breath and pushed the tiredness to a corner of his mind. He had to get started on his chores or his Master would have plenty to say about his lack of commitment to the cleanliness of their quarters. He wasn’t sure he was up to one of Qui-Gon’s lectures in his state. He’d probably end up falling asleep in mid-lecture and Qui-Gon would definitely have something to say about *that*!

He was getting to his feet when it hit him. A white hot shaft of pain streaked through his head. Clutching his head, he swayed drunkenly for a few seconds before collapsing back on to the couch. Curling up into a ball, he writhed painfully while tears trickled through his tightly closed eyes down his cheeks. The pain subsided, the flared again and again, each time robbing him of his breath and his ability to think. It felt like lighting was sweeping through his head, each bolt sharp and piercing. Unable to do anything to stop the pain, he curled up tighter and rocked himself, biting himself on the lips until he could taste blood.

// Obi-Wan?

His Master calling him. Obi-Wan could hear the worry in the voice. He wanted to reassure the man but the pain was pulsing, fire hot now, it was beyond his ability to focus enough to form a coherent sentence. * Hurts.* It was the best he could do. He was crying earnestly now, the sobs of pain reverberating loudly in the quarters. He could hear nothing beyond his own moans of pain ringing in his ears. He wanted to welcome the oblivion of unconsciousness but it danced just beyond his reach, the pain anchoring him firmly to reality.

// Hold on, I’m coming!

As suddenly as it began, the fire in his head stopped. The white hot sensation in his head subsided to a bearable throb. His lungs took in much needed air, after the struggle to breathe just a few seconds ago. It was all he could do, breathing. Everything else required too much energy. Exhausted, he didn’t try to fight as he faded into nothingness.

TBC


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