Jedi Council Forums - 'By the pricking of my thumbs...' JA, (Obi/Qui)

Jedi Council Forums » Fan Fiction » Before the Saga »

Post Reply | Active Topic Notification | Previous Active Topic | Next Active Topic

« 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 - Previous | Next | Reload

Author	Topic: 'By the pricking of my thumbs...' JA, (Obi/Qui) - Updated 30/04/2007
Valairy_Scot Registered: Sep '05	Date Posted: 11/9/06 10:33pm Subject: RE: 'By the pricking of my thumbs...' JA, (Obi/Qui) - Updated 05/07/2006
	I get all caught up -and like too many of your stories (hint, hint) - I can't read it all in one sitting because you haven't posted the entire thing yet! Unfair. Don't you know I'm the type to stay up to 6 am (yup, once) to finish a good book that I couldn't put down? Obi-Wan's a bit off the deep end, isn't he? Part of me thinks this is all in his mind, but the 3rd POV negates that. I think. Please add me to the PM list. What's your bribe for completing this, and The Learner, and...so on? -----signature----- http://boards.theforce.net/fan_fiction_resource/b10304/25405090/p3/?52 Prolific Author thread: list & links there. 2008: Winner: Best Canon/Best Epic. Honored by 13 noms/8 qualifieds in '08, 19 noms & 2? qualifieds in '07. Thank you!
	Post Reply \| Quote Reply \| Active Topic Notification \| Private Message \| Post History
Princess_Arulmozhi Registered: Nov '04	Date Posted: 4/30/07 6:27am Subject: RE: 'By the pricking of my thumbs...' JA, (Obi/Qui) - Updated 05/07/2006 - Date Edited: 4/30/07 9:56am (2 edits total) Edited By: Princess_Arulmozhi
	Part 13 Random images swirl through his mind. He looks at the them for a while, content. There he is, a toddler in the creche. He waves a toy saber. Looking quite industrious and triumphant. He smiles. Ah, he has just knocked Bruck Chun off his feet. The image changes, churning in a fount of colours. This time he is in the Gardens of Penance, peering through two bushes at a Master and Padawan. They are kneeling on the ground, quiet, self-contained. The Master wears long brown Jedi robes, and his hair reaches down to his shoulders. He knows no other Master who wears his hair quite like that. The padawan is a striking boy with gleaming tresses of ebony, white hands clasped demurely in his lap. And then, even as he is preparing to leave, the Master's eyes open ... and stare at him. He scuttles away, embarrassed. Now he is at the training salle, watching multi-hued sabers twirling and striking, weaving such intricate patterns of fleeing light that his eyes hurt. He watches the feet of Jedi, moving forwards and backwards, up, down, right left, flinging into catwalks above, energy thrumming around them. He senses the ebb and flow of the Force as each uses it to his or her own advantage, yet aware of the others. A fierce, sharp yearning pulls at him: he knows that he will be one of them. The Map-Room unveils itself before his eyes. He senses his despair at being told of his destiny, at the sinking dismay that foretells his departure from the Temple. He will never hold a sabre again; certainly not as a Knight did. Pain and self-pity war within him. Is there no one who thinks him capable of becoming a Knight? The chestnut-haired master again. Strange, but he can almost remember the name. He seems familiar. The Master walks along a broad corridor, his gait swift and strong. Evidently, he is speaking something, but he can't seem to hear the words. The wind roars in his head. He rubs his eyes, exhausted. Why can't he hear anything? A bright light dances across his line of vision. He stares at it, entranced, drawn towards it for some inexplicable reason. It promises him a great many things; some he had not thought possible. Of power, of greatness. He has always wanted the latter, if not the former, it says. Now he shall have both. And if he proves an able student, he shall have more. Images of terrifying beauty flit across his mind's eye, pleasure unknown, before this. Even those pleasures customarily denied to Jedi. The light changes, dulling in intensity. Other, deeper somber hues pour in. He watches, at once fearful and fascinated. Something deep within him shrinks back at the images, mistrustful. He tries to stifle its faint voice, captivated. There. There is the Master's face again. It looms up suddenly. The blue eyes look piercingly at him. The Master speaks urgently. Regret and remorse war in those eyes. Then he moves back, evidently disappointed. The Master walks away. He stands transfixed, aware that he has failed somewhere, somehow. He might not know who the man is, but a sharp pain seizes him at the abandonment. He calls for the man, trying to follow him, begging his pardon, promising that he will give up the dazzling colours ... He woke with a gasp. The sharp pain lingered in his chest still, hurting with each breath. His hands felt around them, rustling cloth accompanying the movement. He was lying down. In a bed. His own bed, apparently. He tried to still his pounding heart, scrutinizing the ceiling and walls, still remembering the wrenching despair of loss. For a few moments, the sensation of blankness remained, and he felt some peace within. He was in his room, evidently after a sparring session. Qui-Gon would doubtless appear any minute now ... ... his eyes fell on the barely begun dreslin cloth, with the needle stuck precariously. He rose unsteadily on one elbow. Images began to flit through his mind, tumbling one after the other. A sparkling ball of white - shouting - helpless rage and humiliation and - Bant's horrified eyes - and ... Schen? He groaned as memory returned ... along with a burgeoning sense of horror. The pounding in his head intensified. The Force pitched and ebbed within him, making him nauseous. The door to his room swished open. A young woman stood in the entrance, her auburn hair clustered closely around her face, apparently having sensed him. Had he broadcast his emotions so loudly? Her sharp brown eyes raked over his form, before alighting on his face. He read censure in her eyes. "Here." She held out a cup, from which faint fumes floated. She made no move to enter the room. He stared back at her, lips parted, wondering how he was going to even manage to rise, ignoring the aches and pains that suffused his body, to get the cup she held out. "Please," he rasped, hoping she would set it on the floor, and leave him to his pitiful efforts. Her face brooked no arguments. She was not going to be merciful. She stood still, holding out the cup. He stared back at her, unaware of the picture he presented: red-gold spiked hair in a hopeless tangle, his braid in a mess, blue-green eyes apprehensive and - in her eyes - defiant. "I have no time to waste. Padawan," she said, stressing the word. The word brought back Qui-Gon's face to him. His anger, his sympathy, the protracted battle in the Archives. He had lost. Again. Just as he had lost when he was twelve, begging with the Master to take him as his apprentice. And you will lose again. The words came to him out of nowhere, and he almost flinched at the harshness in them. Obi-Wan drew a deep breath, and pushed away the blankets with great discomfort. His arms felt as though weighted with blocks of stone. His knees wobbled when he set them on the floor, and it was a supreme effort of will that kept him standing. He deserved her scorn, but he would not be weak. Not in front of her. His grasp of the Force was tenuous at best, and it left him feeling sick. He called on every lesson in balance he had ever learnt, biting his lips until he could taste a coppery tang in his mouth. Step. By step. By Step. He was almost at the door now, his eyes fixed unwaveringly on the cup, cheeks burning with the embarrassment. He could not look at her again. Her eyes were cool chips of hard anger, and he deserved it fully, he knew. "Forgive me," he whispered, not really aware of whether she could hear him. He could hardly hear himself. Her eyes turned colder, if such a thing were possible. When he was almost there, she withdrew suddenly, placing the cup just within the doorway. Then she rose, her eyes slightly triumphant. "Rest well, Kenobi," she said in a low voice, before the door shut, once more. He stared down at the cup on the floor, eyes slightly wide, breathing far too deeply. He could barely stand, much less bend down. His head swam from the exertion. Shutting out the face that had looked him up and down moments ago, he bit his lips and bent slowly, willing errant muscles to obey, accepting the pain. Feel the pain, he told himself. Don't release it into the Force. You deserve it. And her anger. The pain in his head was overwhelming. He trembled with the exertion, and just as his fingers touched the smooth surface of the cup, felt his knees give away. He crumpled to the floor. Blackness swirled into his eyes and he gave himself up, grateful. ***** That was well done of you. She pressed the heel of her palms into her eyes and groaned as she sat down on the couch in the common area. What had possessed her to take the potion to the boy's room, stand when it was obvious he could barely walk ... and then leave it on the floor? By the stars, she hardly knew herself. Never mind that he had drawn a sabre against his own Master. Her Master. The legendary Qui-Gon Jinn. She dropped her hands as she felt the now familiar anger snake through her. The sight that met her eyes as she had strode into the Archives - could best be described as controlled panic. Jedi rarely lost their nerve in critical situations, except for younglings and junior padawans - it was here that all their lessons in self and Force control was expected to aid them. Especially when one's greatest friends and clan-mates were the target of focused rage. The Jedi in the Archives, even had they been seized with tension in the first few minutes of the commotion, had been taken in hand by Knight Donan - it could be no one else who moved so purposefully among the terminals, gathering the scattered Jedi. She had watched, pushing away the confused fear, as Qui-Gon bore down forcibly with green sabre, pushing away another knight, towards a boy who could only be his padawan. The young man was waving his own sabre in a blue arc, slashing it through terminals as though they were sheets of flimsy. Her jaw tightened as her hands went to her own waist. Barely aware of Knight Donan gathering the others away from the scene - and wondering why no one was speaking into a comm unit - she caught sight of Qui-Gon staring at Donan, and his barely imperceptible nod. So that's the way it was. Her Master was protecting his padawan. Again. Just as he had protected a black-haired impulsive boy, once. And watched him lead the two of them into certain ruin. She saw the same zeal in Qui-Gon's eyes now, as he wrestled with the boy's sabre. His hands and legs might be moving as a warrior's battling for supremacy, but his eyes were filled with a strange light that she had seen only very rarely. History was repeating itself. She would be damned if she let that happen. Instinct took hold, just as it had in the wastes of the Helgenders. Unhurriedly, she pushed beyond Knight Donan and another knight, going swiftly to Qui-Gon's side. The boy was thrashing as though all nine hells of Corellia had broken loose and were opening their yawning mouths to engulf him whole. Arms and legs were a tangle and she caught hold of offending limbs, allowing Qui-Gon to subdue him, at last. The boy's emerald green eyes flashed fire, looking at her as though she were a Sith incarnate. She stared into those eyes, mesmerized. Even so, she was a diplomat and no Jedi worth the title ever made haphazard decisions. She must know if this was indeed Qui-Gon's padawan, as against just any padawan, before she involved herself. She still didn't know if it had been his answer in the affirmative, Obi-Wan's wild eyes - or the strange, soft light in Qui-Gon's eyes that had made her do what she did. She had slapped him. As she would have slapped anyone who had dared raise an arm against those she held dear to her. She snorted at the words her mind formed. Jedi held no one dear to their heart. And had she been wise, she would not feel as she did. Alas, she was only an ordinary human being yet, aspiring to the heights of spiritual evolution that Jedi usually attained. Many years would pass before she could claim to reach that perfection. Until then, she was and would continue to be affected by buffeting emotions. And might continue to wring reparation from Obi-Wan, for the wrongs Xanatos committed. Which, if she wanted to admit it to herself, was not strictly the behaviour one would expect from a Jedi Knight, no matter her lack of Jedi perfection. Even an ordinary mortal might have controlled herself. She did not quite know if Qui-Gon's silence in the minutes that followed were any indication of her fortunes: good or bad. His face had tightened and then calmed into the mask that she had seen so many times during her apprenticeship. That was when the cold, sick fear had fully claimed her. She did not really regret what she had done to Obi-Wan ... but she did regret Qui-Gon's sadness. Fortunately, there had been little time to dwell on such things. Qui-Gon had quickly hefted the apprentice over his broad shoulders, nodded to Knight Donan who was already putting the Archives to rights, and strode away from the room. She had collected the fallen blue sabre, and followed him. After laying Obi-Wan down in his own bed, Qui-Gon had merely given her curt instructions to prepare a certain brew and had immediately left. Despite being dismissed in such a summary fashion, she had followed instructions. Her eyes still burned when she thought of the blue sabre against the green one, and she had almost poured scalding hot water on her fingers. But she had been given orders - she would fulfill them. She had traced him to the Archives against his wishes, after all. That is still no reason to set you to kitchen duty like a misbehaved youngling, her mind mutinied. You have been knighted for years! Still - Qui-Gon must have had his reasons. He was many things, but rarely unreasonable. A rush of mortification swept through her as she recalled exactly how she had fulfilled his instructions. Somehow, Obi-Wan's stricken eyes turned her stomach. The sound of the door to the chambers swishing shut broke her reverie. "Has he drunk it?" Qui-Gon's voice broke her thoughts and she sat up swiftly, feeling a flush envelope her face. "I ... gave him the cup," she said, unable to tell him exactly how she had given Obi-Wan the brew. Why is it so important that the brat drink this potion? What has he done to deserve this attention? Qui-Gon swiftly removed his cloak, draping it on the couch. "Did he drink it fully?" "What did Master Yoda say?" she asked in return, unwilling to address the question. The faint smell of the peculiar aroma that hung around Master Yoda's room wafted off him. Qui-Gon turned from his walk to the room and gave her a tight-lipped smile. "Much the usual." His fingers moving to the door controls. "Oh." She stood up, moving unconsciously near the door. It was only too obvious that Qui-Gon had mentioned nothing of the reason for his wayward apprentice's outburst. More perplexing was his bearing: he did not seem surprised at it, merely anxious. It puzzled and tantalized her. She would have to know. She wanted to. The words trembled on the tip of her tongue. "Have you had your last meal?" he asked, fingers thumbing the controls. "No," she murmured. "Ah," he exhaled. "I was rather hoping you would stay with me for ..." His voice trailed away. Schen looked back at him, watching as his body went rigid. His gaze narrowed. He stood at the entrance for a long moment, looking within. Her heart skipped a beat. Had she brewed something wrong? Had the boy vanished? How could he - she had been here the whole time - had there - Her legs moved of their own accord and she found herself beside Qui-Gon within seconds. She looked over her shoulder. Obi-Wan lay just within the door, on the floor, his bedclothes tangled around his waist, face downwards. The edge of his hand had caught the cup, which lay on the floor at an odd angle. Green liquid had spread over the floor, some leaching into his bed-clothes. She felt her face go white. He hadn't been able to pick the cup. He had tried - and had collapsed. Qui-Gon turned to her, opening his mouth obviously to ask what had happened. Her white face must have given her away - she stood tongue-tied. He went on gazing at her. "I ... took him the cup," she finished in a very low voice. "Did he take it?" She remained silent, still looking at the motionless figure on the floor. His blue eyes hardened to little chips of ice. She stared back at him, half fascinated, half alarmed. Then he turned away. Stepping into the room, he carefully put away the cup, gathered the padawan carefully in his arms, wrapping the rumpled bed-clothes around him. He walked a few paces to the bed and deposited the boy on it, straightening out limbs and arms. Then he walked out, brushing past her, into the cooking area. She stood where she was, listening to the sounds of utensils clinking, water being poured, something set on a stove. A few minutes later, the familiar bitter smell wafted through her nostrils again. A moment later he reappeared, holding another cup in his hands. He walked past her into the room, pushed away the bed-clothes of his padawan, and sat down gingerly. "Obi-Wan." She could hear his voice rumble, within the room. It was a small room, she noticed. Had her own rooms been this small, when she had been a padawan? "Obi-Wan. Wake up, please." Her eyes caught sight of his shelves. The tunics, leggings and tabards arranged neatly, all the same, uniform Jedi colours. In one corner sat a few Verpine fighters. She guessed that they had not been used for some time, but their presence surprised her. No senior padawan she knew still safeguarded such remnants of childhood. To the left she caught sight of a stack of oblong data-cards, their sides dull from over-use. She had excellent eyesight even for a Jedi, and she could just catch sight of the legends inscribed along their sides. Some were reference texts that had to do with his studies, certainly. Two or three were discourses on various spiritual matters. Her brows rose. One mentioned something about ancient artifacts. There was another, stuffed between three or four cultural treatises. Wonder of wonders ... it had a word one normally associated with needlecraft. There was another, to do with ... the ancient music-lores of Coruscant? Almost at once, her eyes caught sight of a crumpled dreslin cloth by the bed, a bright splash of red on it. A needle stuck precariously on it. Her jaw dropped. Exactly what kind of Jedi Padawan was Obi-Wan Kenobi? Meanwhile, the apprentice in question was slowly but steadily roused to consciousness. Qui-Gon, she noticed took care not to use the time-honoured methods of awakening - namely the Force. Instead, he had placed a hand on the young man's shoulders and was gently pressing it. Obi-Wan groaned once, but lay still. Several minutes later, he had succeeded in opening his eyes, and stared blearily at Qui-Gon. Then he shook his head. "You must drink this, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon's tone was insistent. Obi-Wan shifted away, but seemed determined to obey, at any rate. He drew a deep, shaky breath and attempted to move. Quickly, Qui-Gon shifted his arms around his shoulders and raised him. "Drink." "Please." "You will feel much better after this." Obi-Wan seemed resigned to his fate. He tried to put out his hands to take the cup, but she could see that they were shaking. She bit her lips. Qui-Gon appeared to consider this for a moment. Then he shifted himself and the boy, so that Obi-Wan's head now rested on his left shoulder. "Drink, Padawan." Her view was obstructed now, but she could hear the boy groan again. She moved to the edge of the door, the better to see them. Qui-Gon placed the cup against the boy's lips, forcing them to open, and poured the draught straight down his throat, barely giving him time to taste. Obi-Wan swallowed and then coughed convulsively, drawing shuddering breaths. They sat still for a while, Obi-Wan's face still buried in the Master's tunic, while Qui-Gon's fingers idly combed through his hair. "You couldn't drink the first cup?" Qui-Gon's voice was very low, but she heard, nevertheless. Her body stiffened. Obi-Wan was silent for a long time. She watched his right hand grip Qui-Gon's tunic around his waist, and clutch it. "I slipped and fell." He shifted, and his eyes rose above Qui-Gon's chest. He was looking straight at her. "I fell," he repeated. "I see." A few moments later, Qui-Gon shifted the boy to his bed again. Obi-Wan grunted with the effort and then stilled as Qui-Gon placed his hand on his forehead. In a few moments, he was asleep. *** When Qui-Gon stepped back towards the common area, he was assailed by the fragrant aroma of chithli. He approached the cooking area, watching Schen as she methodically went about brewing the concoction. Force she knew she hated it, but it was one of Qui-Gon's favourites. She knew he kept a stock of the leaves whenever he could lay hands upon it. At the moment, she was almost done. She poured the brew into a large cup. She carried it to him carefully and waited. They stared at each other for a few moments. Then, he took the cup, looking down into its murky brown depths, rather than her eyes. She leaned back against the wall, looking up at a roughly carved flute, attached to the wall. "Explain." (tbc...) -----signature----- Perceptions (Xanatos/Obi/Qui/Anakin) AU:http://boards.theforce.net/the_saga/b10476/25276178/p1/?7 - vignette Stones (Li'l Obi/Qui) - http://boards.theforce.net/before_the_saga/b10475/23371821/p1/ Best Author, WFFA (BtS) 05/06 Lore-Master to 7
	Post Reply \| Quote Reply \| Active Topic Notification \| Private Message \| Post History
Valairy_Scot Registered: Sep '05	Date Posted: 4/30/07 8:14am Subject: RE: 'By the pricking of my thumbs...' JA, (Obi/Qui) - Updated 30/04/2007 - Date Edited: 4/30/07 12:15pm (1 edits total) Edited By: Valairy_Scot
	Oh, my, I need time to review the previous chapters and catch my breath. Will edit later - but, wow. Okay...I reread the entire story. In case I'm right (ha!) I won't speculate in much detail, but I think I know where you're going - but it's the journey that counts, right? That thing is magnifying all of Obi-Wan's fears, doubts and insecurities and until he defeats them, he won't defeat it. What is so sad is that Schen has her own insecurities, and this is the worst possible time for her and Obi-Wan to meet. She doesn't know what's going on, but is determined to protect her master from another such as Xan. Even Jedi have insecurities, only she's not releasing them and Obi-Wan is fighting them - at least, I hope he's fighting them, not being consumed by them. Knowing you, all will end well, and Obi-Wan will be stronger for all this. Love how you show the affection between master and padawan - will that be one of the keys to straightening out Obi-Wan? -----signature----- http://boards.theforce.net/fan_fiction_resource/b10304/25405090/p3/?52 Prolific Author thread: list & links there. 2008: Winner: Best Canon/Best Epic. Honored by 13 noms/8 qualifieds in '08, 19 noms & 2? qualifieds in '07. Thank you!
	Post Reply \| Quote Reply \| Active Topic Notification \| Private Message \| Post History
dianethx Registered: Mar '02	Date Posted: 4/30/07 9:44am Subject: RE: 'By the pricking of my thumbs...' JA, (Obi/Qui) - Updated 30/04/2007
	She should be absolutely ashamed of herself, treating Obi-Wan like that. The jealousy, the spitefulness, these are not the attributes of a Jedi Knight but a girl. She should grow up, and stop assuming that Obi-Wan is Xan. I love that Qui-Gon was not happy with her in this. I don't know what is happening to Obi-Wan after fighting that marble but she should be more compassionate. I bet he's going to give it to her! Great job. Glad to see that you are writing again. It's been too long. -----signature----- Betrayal - http://boards.theforce.net/s/b1/10935143 updated 6/28/08 Fragments of Illusion- http://boards.theforce.net/bts/b10475/28456473 updated 7/22/08 Freeze frame - http://boards.theforce.net/s/b10476/27820434 Master to jedidas3 Impeach Bush!
	Post Reply \| Quote Reply \| Active Topic Notification \| Private Message \| Post History
dimyavie Registered: May '06	Date Posted: 4/30/07 9:32pm Subject: RE: 'By the pricking of my thumbs...' JA, (Obi/Qui) - Updated 30/04/2007
	You updated! YES! Awesome update, by the way...as usual. I hope to be reading more soon!
	Post Reply \| Quote Reply \| Active Topic Notification \| Private Message \| Post History
ratna Registered: Mar '07	Date Posted: 4/30/07 9:59pm Subject: RE: 'By the pricking of my thumbs...' JA, (Obi/Qui) - Updated 30/04/2007
	(relatively) new to boards, and (absolutely) new to your story attracted by the excellent and evocative title have read entirety in one sitting (derisive and jealous snorts from family) wonderful characterizations superb action sequences well drawn psychological nuance and humanity satisfying foreshadowing excellent exposition of philosophy via the effects of the 'marble'. stunned that you write so well in a foreign language curiously wondering if you infuse some of your own culture into the story -- would be an excellent enrichment to canon can't wait for your next post, hope the muse visits you early and often. -----signature----- Faster than the speed of light is the speed of darkness. Faster than the speed of darkness is the speed of thought. Fic linx in my bio
	Post Reply \| Quote Reply \| Active Topic Notification \| Private Message \| Post History
Fifilla Registered: Mar '06	Date Posted: 5/2/07 1:38am Subject: RE: 'By the pricking of my thumbs...' JA, (Obi/Qui) - Updated 30/04/2007
	I can't believe it, you updated this! Thank you very much!!! Poor Schen, now she has to explain her actions, I think that won't be very pleasant! I can understand her actions, she just want to protect Qui-Gon. But her way of acting is not very Jedi-like. -----signature----- "There's always a bigger fish." Fear Of Failure - young Qui-Gon (WIP) > http://boards.theforce.net/before_the_saga/b10475/27642896 Padawan to Valairy_Scot
	Post Reply \| Quote Reply \| Active Topic Notification \| Private Message \| Post History
raisedbywolves Registered: Jul '05	Date Posted: 5/2/07 2:51pm Subject: RE: 'By the pricking of my thumbs...' JA, (Obi/Qui) - Updated 30/04/2007
	Wow! Amazing - an update! I love this story Please continue relatively soon? -----signature----- What She Saw: http://boards.theforce.net/Before_the_Saga/b10475/21886008/?0 Proud (if erstwhile) padawan to Master Darth Pixel. It's not Darth Real Life, actually - I prefer to think of it as my very demanding Jedi Master.
	Post Reply \| Quote Reply \| Active Topic Notification \| Private Message \| Post History
ardavenport Registered: Dec '04	Date Posted: 5/2/07 6:05pm Subject: RE: 'By the pricking of my thumbs...' JA, (Obi/Qui) - Updated 30/04/2007
	Oooooooh, so who explains what to who??? There is so much that needs explaining, it be hard to begin for either of them. Schen's bit of cruelty was revealed, but Obi-Wan nobly wouldn't say. But Obi-Wan is in such trouble that does not seem likely to end here. Do continue. -----signature----- Links to all fics -- http://boards.theforce.net/Message.aspx?topic=25405090&brd=10304&start=26223917 The Heart of the Jedi -- http://boards.theforce.net/b/b1/26013327 ---- Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, JA and everything you wanted to know about lightsabers
	Post Reply \| Quote Reply \| Active Topic Notification \| Private Message \| Post History
LuvEwan Registered: Mar '02	Date Posted: 5/2/07 6:16pm Subject: RE: 'By the pricking of my thumbs...' JA, (Obi/Qui) - Updated 30/04/2007
	Your characterization skills are off the charts, P_A. What Schell did was so wrong, but I almost felt bad for her, because she feels so protective of her old Master. But really,what she did to Obi-Wan makes her more like Xanatos than she would think. And I love that Qui-Gon didn't go off on her right away, that he cared for Obi-Wan first and then calmly approached her. So like him. Write forever and I promise I'll read forever. Can't wait for more whenever it strikes you to write more. -----signature----- So it was Anakin's butt after all. He supposed he might take a modicum of comfort from that. -Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith, by Matthew Stover
	Post Reply \| Quote Reply \| Active Topic Notification \| Private Message \| Post History
JediKaren Registered: Apr '07	Date Posted: 5/2/07 6:44pm Subject: RE: 'By the pricking of my thumbs...' JA, (Obi/Qui) - Updated 30/04/2007
	arg...please hurry up. It's so good! lol I sound like I'm 13 and not 20.... -----signature----- Bring Light Into Darkness Reaching Through Darkness: http://boards.theforce.net/beyond_the_saga/b10477/28415147/p1/?0 Healing Hearts: http://boards.theforce.net/before_the_saga/b10475/28282728/p1
	Post Reply \| Quote Reply \| Active Topic Notification \| Private Message \| Post History
earlybird-obi-wan Registered: Aug '06	Date Posted: 5/2/07 8:54pm Subject: RE: 'By the pricking of my thumbs...' JA, (Obi/Qui) - Updated 30/04/2007
	Just found this one and can you get me on your PM list too -----signature----- writer and Star Wars fan FANART [link=http://boards.theforce.net/fan_art/b10020/25793899]fanart[/link] stories in my bio
	Post Reply \| Quote Reply \| Active Topic Notification \| Private Message \| Post History
Nimloth Registered: Mar '07	Date Posted: 5/4/07 3:33pm Subject: RE: 'By the pricking of my thumbs...' JA, (Obi/Qui) - Updated 30/04/2007
	It makes me so happy to find an update of yours in the boards! This one was wonderful, and I´m absolutely anxious about the outcome of the story, so, please, continue soon!... , please?
	Post Reply \| Quote Reply \| Active Topic Notification \| Private Message \| Post History
PadawanKitara Registered: Dec '01	Date Posted: 5/11/07 11:03pm Subject: RE: 'By the pricking of my thumbs...' JA, (Obi/Qui) - Updated 30/04/2007
	You posted you posted Kitara does a happy dance -----signature----- Courtier of the Royal Order of Shambling Dufi We are Dufi...Resistance is Futile! UCLA BRUINS
	Post Reply \| Quote Reply \| Active Topic Notification \| Private Message \| Post History
ratna Registered: Mar '07	Date Posted: 5/28/07 10:56pm Subject: RE: 'By the pricking of my thumbs...' JA, (Obi/Qui) - Updated 30/04/2007
	praying for an UPdate.... (setting out cookies as Muse-bait for you) -----signature----- Faster than the speed of light is the speed of darkness. Faster than the speed of darkness is the speed of thought. Fic linx in my bio
	Post Reply \| Quote Reply \| Active Topic Notification \| Private Message \| Post History

« 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 - Previous | Next | Reload

Jedi Council Forums » Fan Fiction » Before the Saga »