Title: A Dream so Real
Author: Jedi-Gon
Timeframe: Pre-Saga, Pre-JA. Qui-Gon and Tahl are both knights.
Genre: Drama, Angst, slight Romance
Notes: SW belongs to GL. For the First sentence challenge. My first Qui/Tahl piece.
A/N: A quick piece for the first sentence challenge. Enjoy! 
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It was her, he just knew it, but it couldn’t be — she was dead. Her bronze skin was clammy with sweat, and her beautiful green/gold eyes were half closed in eternal sleep. Dark crimson stained her tan tunic, and her hair was torn and tangled.
Qui-Gon, his face paled a considerable amount, rushed to Tahl’s side.
The protestors had come out of nowhere. Blasters in hand, eyes blazing, with an assortment of grenades and detonators at their disposal, they had come crashing through the thick forests, and had invaded the negotiations that were supposed to be occurring at noon. Obviously, they were not pleased about the treaty between the Working Union and the Senate. And because the Jedi were the ones who had arranged the negotiations to start with, they were a prime target.
Tahl had been surrounded. Even with the training of an elite knight, it was impossible for her to block that amount of blaster fire. And now that the dust had settled, it was evident just how impossible it was.
Qui-Gon cursed under his breath. It couldn’t end like this. It couldn’t! He had to apologize first; He had to reconcile with her. He and Tahl had had an argument the day before, and hadn’t spoken since. Rare was the occasion when the two friends were truly angry with each other, but that morning had been one of those times.
And this was one of those other times, when he wished desperately that they he could take back what had already been said.
As he neared, he could barely make out the slight rising and falling of her chest, and when he knelt by her, he could faintly hear raspy, uneven breaths. But Qui-Gon knew she wasn’t alive. Nor was she dead; she was caught up in between the two extremes. But how long before she faded completely, he didn’t know. Yet.
As tears started to track down his cheeks silently, Qui-Gon kneeled, reached a large hand up behind Tahl’s head, and propped her up. With his other hand, he lifted her tunic up slightly to examine the damage to her torso. He closed his eyes tightly, sending more tears falling. No amount of bacta could cure that, even if the healers could reach them on time.
Tahl would die.
“Tahl?” He asked in a small voice, silently begging the Force to hear her voice just one last time. Answering his silent plea, Tahl’s eyes moved microscopically, and she looked up at him with an otherworldly gaze.
“Qui?” She asked quietly, using his nickname from their younger years. Qui-Gon nodded earnestly.
“Yes, it’s me.” Qui-Gon answered, carefully drawing his friend closer as he hunched over her weak, fragile frame.
“Qui, did you know that the Force looks kind of green?” She asked, a vision invisible to him dancing in front of her eyes. Qui-Gon shook his head in response. She smiled, not even seeming to notice his despairing features. “It reminds me a bit of you.”
“Tahl, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.” Qui-Gon interrupted, “Please forgive me.” His tears fell on her tunic. She turned her head towards him a bit.
“It’s an odd feeling, you know, Qui? Dying, that is.” She continued on, her voice growing distant, blissfully unaware of whatever he had said. “And I suppose I’ll only be here a moment longer.”
“No!” Qui-Gon insisted, “Tahl, please stay here. Stay with me.” His voice was begging. Tahl’s slender hand brushed Qui-Gon’s cheek. “I’ll see you again.” Her eyelids fluttered, and a girlish smile graced her lips for but a second. “Goodbye, Qui.” With that last whispered farewell, she became limp in his arms. Qui-Gon’s throat tightened.
“No!”
“No!” Qui-Gon sat bolt upright in bed. His chest heaving, he glanced about him. His sheets were tangled about his waist, and he was covered in sweat. He spotted his pillow that lay on the floor not far from his bedside. Why was he in his room? He shouldn’t be; he was with Tahl.
Wasn’t he?
Qui-Gon whipped his head around to face the bedside chrono. His face twisted into a confused, slightly terrified look. The negotiations weren’t until the next day. Did that mean that all of it was a dream? He gulped, hoping that it was. But, as it stood, there was no sure way for him to tell. It seemed all too real to be a dream. The only way he would believe it was if he saw her.
“Qui-Gon?” A quiet, tired voice sounded from the doorway. He jumped.
“Tahl?” He asked, his voice shaking slightly from the rush of adrenaline that the nightmare had sent through his body. “Is that really you?” He asked.
Tahl’s brow furrowed, and she stepped further into the hotel room, closing the door behind her. The moonlight that dimly shone from between the window blinds illuminated her face. “Yes, it’s me. Qui-Gon, is something wrong?”
Instead of a verbal response, Qui-Gon untangled himself from the bed covers and rose, his wide eyes not once leaving her face. Then, without a single explanation, he seized her in a bone-crushing embrace, as if any moment now she would melt into oblivion. “Thank the Force.” He said quietly, pressing his cheek to the side of her head.
Tahl, taken aback by this very un-Qui-Gon like behavior, stood still for several seconds, before she did the best she could to return his hug. She didn’t say anything for a long while; she could tell that Qui-Gon was trying to sort out something in his mind. After his arms relaxed some and his breath became more even, she gently pulled back, but let his hands rest on her arms, just as hers rested on his.
“Qui-Gon, what happened? What’s this about?” She asked, genuinely concerned. It took a moment before Qui-Gon gave a whispered reply.
“You died.”
There was a long pause. “What?”
“You died.” Qui-Gon repeated, just as quiet as before. “The protestors invaded the negotiations… You got caught in the middle…” He murmured several more sentences that were inaudible to Tahl, before ducking his head to hide watery eyes. “You died in my arms.” He finished. Though the creases in her brow remained, Tahl’s confusion now turned to a sad kind of sympathy.
“Qui-Gon, it was a dream.” She said, dipping her head slightly so that she could see his hidden face. “I’m right here. The negotiations aren’t until tomorrow, and the protestors were taken care of already – the entire defense force is on alert.” Her voice was gentle, and the touch on his arm was reassuring. She smiled at him when she finally got him to meet her eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Then…” He started, a childlike confusion on his face, “It was a dream, after all?”
“Yes.” She assured. “It was a dream. Only a dream.”
He sighed heavily, as if some sort of burden had been lifted. “It was much too real for my liking.” He said, his voice, though still shaky, slowly returning to it’s normal baritone. “Tahl,” He started, “I… About this morning; I’m sorry.” He said. “Please forgive me.” Though a hint of sternness touched Tahl’s features for a moment, her gaze was soft.
“Qui-Gon, it was minor disagreement. We are both under a lot of pressure, and we both over reacted.” She blushed slightly. “Perhaps a lot, on my part. But the thing is that I forgave you hours ago, once I came to my senses.” She smiled at him. A hint of confusion remained on her face. “By why do you ask now?”
Qui-Gon gulped before answering. “When you, I mean, in my dream, we had argued, and I didn’t get to apologize before you…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. Tahl closed her eyes in understanding, and grasped his arms more firmly.
“Qui-Gon, I’m not going anywhere. And even if I did, there would be nothing hostile between us. Understand?” After a moment, Qui-Gon nodded, his traditional Jinn confidence returning slowly. Tahl smiled. “Good.” She glanced at the chrono, which read two hours past midnight. “Now come on, you need rest, as do I. Back in bed with you.” She ordered, a motherly tone to her voice. Qui-Gon complied without the bickering that would normally follow such a command, and compliantly climbed back into bed, seating himself up against the headboard. Tahl climbed up to sit next to him, waiting for him to calm down enough that she could be sure that he would sleep.
“You know, Qui-Gon, if I ever did die in your arms, at least I wouldn’t be lonely.” She said, her voice honest.
“Don’t talk that way!” Qui-Gon snapped suddenly, his face deathly serious. Tahl looked shocked as she shrunk away slightly. He immediately regretted his sharp tone. “I’m sorry.” He said, much more quietly. “It’s just…” He sighed, “It was much, much too real.” His gaze begged her forgiveness. She smiled sympathetically.
“It’s alright, Qui.” She said, calling him by his nickname. She touched his shoulder. “Like I said, I’m not going anywhere. I can’t.” She smiled wryly. “Force only knows the trouble you would get yourself into if I wasn’t around to get you back out again.”
And there it was – a smile; A small tilt of his thin lips, slightly crooked, but reassuring all the same. Tahl knew he would be alright. She rose from the bed, and straightened out his sheets. “No more nightmares, alright?” Tahl said. Qui-Gon laid down with a tired nod.
“Force, I hope so.” He stifled a yawn.
“Good.” She said, picking up his pillow off the ground. She placed it behind his head.
“And you’ll stay here with me?” He asked, already drifting closer to sleep. She smiled, and placed a kiss to his cheek.
“Always.”
finis
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"The ability to speak does not make you intelligent." -Qui-Gon Jinn, The Phantom Menace Duct tape is kind of like the Force - it has a light side and a dark side, and it holds the universe together. Proud Padawan to Jinngerbread 
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