Jedi Council Forums - The Water's Edge (cowritten with Happy_Hobbit_Padawan - Updated May 31

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Author	Topic: The Water's Edge (cowritten with Happy_Hobbit_Padawan - Updated May 31 - COMPLETE)
obaona Registered: Jun '02	Date Posted: 1/29/04 11:15am Subject: RE: The Water's Edge (~cowritten with Happy_Hobbit_Padawan~ {~Updated Jan. 27~})
	Gabri: Yes, I posted just when you did solely to irritate you. And thank you. Aye, Elli did a wonderful job with that confrontation - I just got to work off of it. And yes, Obi-Wan is way too fragile for that at the moment. Thank goodness Xanatos realizes that, hmm? PadawanKitara: Um . . . do I need to provide drool buckets? Sock_of_Darth_Vader: Thanks! Don't you just love Xan? Glad you like the twist, and as for Padme . . . don't worry, she appears. Opal: Well, you would get a new post every few days, instead of a month apart, most likely. (Depending on how fast I write, as I seem to be the slow one these days.) And postie. ~~* As soon as Anakin left his room, Xanatos turned towards the figure sprawled across the messy bed. Force, how can he be almost a Knight when he can’t even clean? Xanatos thought. He sighed deeply, then stepped over to the unconscious man. Anakin’s quarters were on the lower levels of the Temple, as befitting his station as a Padawan Learner. Xanatos, as a Knight, had quarters that were higher up. Several levels, in fact, if he was remembering correctly. He spent so little time there he had to remind himself of where it was occasionally. Moving carefully, Xanatos put one arm under Obi-Wan’s legs and one under his back. Then he lifted the unconscious Jedi. Anakin was right; he was heavy. Too bad the boy had had a tutorial . . . being higher in rank was nice sometimes. Two old-fashioned stairwells – used as backup for the lifts, and therefore rarely used – and floors later, Xanatos was at his quarters. It had been difficult, having to use the back entrances to everything while carrying Obi-Wan. But he had not been seen. Brown and cream. Sometimes Xanatos thought the Jedi were colorblind. His quarters consisted of two rooms, joined by a common room with a small, efficient kitchen. The extra room was for anything he wanted, but could be used as a Padawan’s bedroom, if he ever took one. The common room was actually fairly large and comfortable, and couch and big easy chair sat forlornly in the middle. With a grunt Xanatos slammed the door shut behind him. He’d managed to use the Force to open it, by pushing against the opening panel, so he wouldn’t have to put Obi-Wan down and risk being seen, but kicking the control so it would shut was just so much easier. Xanatos stepped forward and lay Obi-Wan on the couch. Despite the wild beard and hair, he looked surprisingly serene while he slept. Well, recovering from being hit so hard. Sighing, Xanatos turned away. He ran a hand through his hair and stroked his chin thoughtfully. What to do now? He couldn’t have Obi-Wan killing Anakin. Grinning wickedly, he thought, Though a few excuses, some paperwork and everything would be nicely wrapped up . . . Stop it, Xanatos told himself. His exhaustion was getting to him, letting his thoughts wander in ways it wouldn’t normally. Obi-Wan had intended to kill Anakin, and the anguish he had felt Obi-Wan experiencing hadn’t stopped the man from trying to kill Anakin. The truth was, Xanatos simply didn’t know what would set Obi-Wan off. And he didn’t know because he knew nothing of Obi-Wan. But he was also pretty sure that couldn’t be helped. Obi-Wan was so fragile – he had wept when he thought Xanatos, a man he barely knew, had betrayed him. True, he had almost immediately afterwards snatched Xanatos’ lightsaber, but he doubted the despair he had sensed was faked. What a mess. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Xanatos walked past the couch to the kitchen. He glanced over the silver surfaces, than began searching for something that Obi-Wan could eat. Something bland and simple. He found it quickly with some crackers and soup that he didn’t remember putting there. Qui-Gon, perhaps. His old Master was sometimes too caught in the moment, but he had his moments of thoughtfulness. Xanatos smiled, fondly remembering. Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon! The crackers fell to the floor, shattering and making a mess. The soup, thankfully, remained on the counter, as he hadn’t been holding it. Qui-Gon was coming – he was sure of it. By now his old Master would have discovered that he was home, and he was no doubt planning on welcoming his former apprentice. He could be here any – Bzzzt. The door. Ignoring the crackers on the floor, Xanatos scrambled across the kitchen to the couch, swooping up Obi-Wan in one smooth movement. He ran to his own bedroom – yes, yes, he could keep Qui-Gon out of there – and dumped him on the bed. Bzzzt. Obi-Wan groaned, his legs and arms twitching. Xanatos stood still for a moment, frozen in horror. Was the Force against him or something? He stared at the slowly awakening Obi-Wan Kenobi for a long second. The blue eyes had just fluttered open when Xanatos reached his decision. He grabbed his lightsaber hilt and smacked Obi-Wan with it on the forehead. It hit with a thump. Obi-Wan fell back, unconscious again. Bzzzt. “Coming!” Xanatos called out loudly, hoping Qui-Gon could hear. He quickly grabbed a blanket off his single, small wooden dresser and threw it on top of Obi-Wan. He ran out of the room, then skidded to a stop and came back. He took the heavy blanket off of Obi-Wan’s face. It wouldn’t do to suffocate the poor fellow. He ran out of the room again. Crackers on the floor. He hesitated, then bolted forward and slammed his palm against the panel that would open the door. The door opened and there Qui-Gon Jinn stood. His hair, peppered liberally with gray and white, was held back with a tie, and his hands were enfolded within a soft, dark brown robe. He looked every inch the Jedi Master. Xanatos gave him a weak smile, and shoved a lock of black hair out of his eyes with his hand. “Hello, Master.” “Qui-Gon,” the other corrected warmly. “Hello, Xanatos – it is a pleasure to see you.” Xanatos nodded and smiled. A moment passed. “May I . . . ?” Qui-Gon politely inquired. “Oh! Of course,” Xanatos said, and stepped aside. As Qui-Gon moved past him, he grimaced. Wonderful. Just wonderful. His Master was here at the same his un-turned, un-dead apprentice from another universe was. Disaster. He shut the door. "Have a seat, won’t you Qui-Gon?" Xanatos managed, forcing a smile and waving in the general direction of the chair. "I’ll... I’ll... why don’t I get us something to drink?" he stuttered. He hadn’t been prepared for this, not at all, but now he had to make the most of it. "Of course, Xanatos," Qui-Gon replied with a raised eyebrow, casting a careful eye over the room. He nudged the robe – Obi-Wan’s robe, Force dammit! – on the floor with his toe. "Tell me, Xanatos, when was the last time you got yourself some new clothes?" he queried, raising an eyebrow at the worn out, shabby garment. "I don’t remember," Xanatos replied sheepishly, still inching for the kitchen door. "It’s still serviceable, though," he added, stopping his retreat with one hand on the door, ready to open it and escape inside. "It seems a bit short for you," Qui-Gon observed. "What, have you been saving it since your Padawan days? A security item? Most children tend to keep their blankies and stuffed animals, you know," he asked, looking up with twinkling blue eyes, waiting for a response to his attempt at a joke. Xanatos chuckled weakly. "You'd be much wiser to just throw this out," Qui-Gon suggested. "NO! You can't!" Xanatos protested without thinking. Qui-Gon looked up, startled. Xanatos blushed. "Erm... I... I'll... I'll be right back," he finally managed, ducking into the kitchen and quickly palming the door shut. He collapsed against the door as soon as it closed, slowly sliding down to the floor. "Oh dear Force, what am I going to do?" he moaned, burying his head in his arms. "How did I ever get stuck with this mess?" Just lucky, I guess, a snide whisper in his mind provided helpfully. Oh, just shut up. "Qui-Gon cannot go into the bedroom," Xanatos reminded himself firmly. Seeing Obi-Wan again after all these years - alive, unturned - would... well, be detrimental to his health, to say the least. Xanatos didn't really want to think about it. And the effect on Obi-Wan would be even less predictable, dangerous even, judging from what he tried to do to Anakin. He couldn't let it happen. I won't let it happen, he told himself firmly, looking up from his arms in resolve. He could stall, could keep Qui-Gon busy. He was a fair liar and actor, he knew. It came from practicing in any sort of mission he could find, including espionage every once in a while. Though he had never been too adept at lying to his master, he could manage - "Yaah!" Xanatos yelped, falling backwards as the door he was leaning heavily on suddenly whooshed! open behind him. Before he could recover, Xanatos found himself laying on his back and staring up at Qui-Gon's smiling, upside-down face. Very up. "You're too tall from down here," he informed his former master petulantly without thinking. Qui-Gon chuckled. "You're too short," he countered. "Maybe it would help if you decided to sit up." Xanatos had never been short – not really – but it was an old joke between former master and apprentice. He’d been a short boy up till his late growth spurt, but even then he’d never quite caught up to Qui-Gon. The older man still found it infinitely amusing. Xanatos grimaced ruefully as he attempted to scramble up. Force knew that he wouldn’t have fallen flat on his rump in normal conditions, but his nerves weren’t in the best shape. He’d never really succeeded in lying to Qui-Gon before – and certainly not about something as important as the man lying in the other room. It was strange – he’s managed to trick some of the galaxy’s sleaziest criminals and most notable politicians, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie to Qui-Gon. Maybe it was just a leftover habit from Padawan days, but Xanatos had always found it infinitely arduous to lie to his former Master. Especially now, when they had finally begun to rebuild those broken bonds of trust and companionship. He looks strange upside down. Xanatos observed. Maybe it's the beard. It looks like his hair is standing on end from here... Xanatos ruefully rubbed his head, sticking an arm out under him to get into an upright position. "Ow. Next time knock, wouldn't you?" he asked, sitting up. "I'm going to need my back later." And that didn't help my backache at all, he added silently. Qui-Gon smirked slightly, bending down to offer a hand. Xanatos took it. "Why were you on the floor anyway?" "I was... er - " "Were you having problems in there, Xan?" Qui-Gon asked with a small smile. "You never were very adept in the kitchen, as I recall." "I was doing just fine!" Xanatos protested indignantly, pulling himself up and putting his arms on his hips. "Until you opened the door and scared me half to death!" He glared up at Qui-Gon, the look quickly dissolving into a grin. He could never stay mad at the man, especially now. Not after so long. "Besides," he added with a wink. "My culinary skills came directly from my dear Master." Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. "How can you cook while sitting on your backside by the door?" he asked in amusement, crossing his arms across his chest in an attempt to look severe. "Silly me, I was under the impression that you had to be standing to cook." His smile disappeared slowly, a small frown appearing in its place. "Xan, is there something wrong?" he asked in concern. "You seem a bit... on the edge. Do you need help in the kitchen, maybe?" he added, taking a step forward. "I was... I just... Don't go in there! Wait - " Qui-Gon looked in before Xanatos could stop him, grinning broadly at the mess on the floor. Xanatos hadn't cleaned up the crackers yet. "You're having a little trouble?" he asked wryly. "I'm perfectly fine!" Xanatos finally yelled, grabbing a wooden spoon from the counter and brandishing it at the taller man. "Get out of my kitchen!" "Yes, Mother," Qui-Gon quipped before ducking out the door and out of range of the spoon. The door slammed shut behind him. "And stay out!" Xanatos yelled through the door. He wasn't sure, but he thought he could hear some muffled laughter from outside. Xanatos dropped the spoon with a sigh as soon as Qui-Gon was gone, surveying the kitchen thoughtfully. He didn't have very much, granted, but he was sure that he could make a delicious meal with whatever he had. In fact, a cookbook helpfully lay right on the counter. A sign from the Force, Xanatos told himself confidently. Maybe things are going right after all... I'll show him. I've survived countless missions, what could possibly go wrong? Hmm, he thought to himself, thumbing through the book. Cooked arqet in sauce? This looks good... = = = = = "What's that?" Qui-Gon commented fifteen minutes and several burnt servings of meat later, glancing in wry amusement at the plate Xanatos offered before looking up to meet his brilliantly blushing former apprentice's eyes. "Crackers," the younger man responded shortly. "Take it or leave it." "Were you having a little trouble in there?" Qui-Gon asked, eyes twinkling in suppressed mirth. "I thought about going in to check on you when the smoke started streaming out from under the door, but I had no wish to be accosted by a wooden spoon. I get more than enough of that from Yoda." "Funny," Xanatos grouched. "It was going just fine until the meat started burning in the oven." "Yes, it usually seems to be going wrong at that point," Qui-Gon told him helpfully, his twinkling blue eyes the only sign of his merriment. "Ha ha," Xanatos grumbled, setting the platter down on a small table. Because his sparsely furnished rooms offered little in the way of a dining area, Qui-Gon sat on the easy chair, leaving him with the couch. "Whoever wrote that recipe, anyhow?" he complained. "They don't put them into cookbooks unless they usually work out in the end, dear former Padawan," Qui-Gon commented diplomatically. "Well, they should have better directions, then," Xanatos pouted, putting his legs up on the couch. "Yes, bachelor-proof ones," Qui-Gon agreed, barely holding back a laugh. "You didn’t put the oven on a higher temperature in hopes that you could get it to cook faster, did you?" "Ha ha. You’re a funny man, Qui-Gon," Xanatos snapped, reaching for a cracker and dunking it into the dip. "Funny, funny, funny." "I try," Qui-Gon replied. He took a cracker from the proffered tray, ignoring the dip. "Very healthy," he commented, raising an eyebrow. "No wonder you complain about my height if you managed to live on these." "At least it’s vegetarian, so we know no pathetic lifeforms died to provide us with such a lovely meal," Xanatos quipped, earning a playful swat in his direction. He popped the cracker into his mouth. They were actually pretty good, he reflected. "Funny," Qui-Gon snorted. "Funny." "I try," Xanatos responded brightly, reaching for another cracker. They weren’t bad, after all – just a bit dry, perhaps. And the sauce was a bit spicy, but he’d live. Qui-Gon laughed despite himself. "So," he asked, turning to look at his apprentice. "So. How was your mission? Routine, I take it? You returned fairly quickly." "Yes, fairly," Xanatos replied with a smile, taking a bite of his chip. If you count rescuing a drowning dead man from a lake, getting food spat into your face, and having to hide the said man in your rooms, then yes, fairly routine. "The problem almost managed to solve itself, actually," he admitted. Strange thing, though, the sauce on his tongue seemed hotter than before. He pursed his lips thoughtfully, focusing on his taste buds. It was almost as if – Qui-Gon’s sudden laugh took his attention away from his tongue. "Yes, they sometimes seem to do that, don’t they? Do you remember the time on Xarrai when – " "You mean the time you fell off the speeder and accidentally knocked out one of the guards? And the negotiators finally came to the city to see the Jedi fool?" Xanatos supplied. Yes, he could feel it now, the dip was actually getting spicier by the moment. His tongue was burning up now – "Yes, that time," Qui-Gon admitted. "You found it rather amusing, if I recall. I – " My tongue is on fire. "Aaaah!" Xanatos yelped, leaping up from the couch to make a mad dash for the kitchen. His tongue was burning, a rapid fire that quickly spread down to his throat. Water. I need water. Waterwaterwaterwater – He quickly switched on the faucet, foregoing a need for a glass and just tilting his head to the side to quickly gulp in as much of the wonderful liquid as possible. Qui-Gon chuckled quietly behind him. "Spicy, Xanatos?" he asked mildly. "I thought you knew that the Woene tribes are fond of hot foods. They tend to start out seeming rather mild and gradually grow hotter." "I never thought I’d want to see water ever again after Kamino," Xanatos admitted, surfacing for a moment before ducking his head back to lap at the stream of running water. Oh stars this feels good. Once again, Qui-Gon laughed quietly. "I don’t mind spices, after all, but they’re bantha hunters who take great pride in their courage. During the off-seasons when the bantha aren’t around they tend to test their courage in other ways. Tastes rather good once you get used to it, actually." Stars, he sounds like Anakin's know-it-all protocol droid. Xanatos didn’t answer, just continuing to gulp at the water instead. With a faint smile, Qui-Gon took a step forward, helpfully thumping the dark-haired man on the back and causing him to gag on the stream of liquid. "Funny, Qui-Gon! Funny!" Xanatos managed to sputter, coughing and nearly choking on the water. He glared up at his former master. "Funny," he spat. Qui-Gon somehow managed to keep a straight face. All those years of Jedi training had to be good for something, after all. "I try," he responded. "You’re an evil man, Qui-Gon." After a moment of suppressed laughter, Qui-Gon glanced down at his shirt. "Darn," he muttered in chagrin. "I don’t suppose you have a shirt my size somewhere? I need to go soon, but your sudden screeching made me drop my dip on my shirt," he commented ruefully, pointing at the red stain. "I’ll just go into your closet and check, shall I?" Qui-Gon added. Xanatos’ head shot up. NO! "Qui-Gon, wait!" he shouted. To his dismay, Qui-Gon was already out of the kitchen, in the hallway – Within a few seconds, Xanatos was racing out to pounce on the larger man, just as Qui-Gon was about to palm the door open. Both collapsed in a pile of arms and legs, Qui-Gon utterly startled. "What was that for?" he asked, attempting to free himself by wriggling free. He glared at Xanatos, waiting for an explanation as the younger man sheepishly got to his feet. "What are you trying to do, Xan?" he demanded sharply. "I don’t want you to go in there! It... it’s a mess!" Xanatos improvised. His eyes widened sharply, startled by his own stupidity. Oh dear Force that’s the worst excuse I’ve ever come up with. Qui-Gon stared at him suspiciously for a long moment, looking carefully into his eyes, as if to gauge his sincerity. Xanatos struggled to contain the urge to gulp. He couldn't lie to Qui-Gon. Not well, he knew. He prepared himself for a tongue-lashing, drawing back just a bit - To his utter amazement, Qui-Gon slowly nodded his head. "I see," he finally responded, raising an eyebrow. "At least you didn’t try to mindtrick me like last time." "I was twelve!" Xanatos protested. "And it was a mess!" "Yes," Qui-Gon agreed. "So maybe it’s better that I don’t see how much worse it’s gotten in time. Actually, I find the prospect rather frightening," he joked, casting a mock wary glance at the door. "Who knows what may have been spawned from your dirty socks? You might even have something alive in there. I’ll just wait for you in the common room then," Qui-Gon decided, already on his way out. With a sigh of relief, Xanatos opened the door and entered, carefully shutting it behind him. Obi-Wan, he was grateful to see, was still well into his little nap of sorts, looking oddly peaceful as he lay there unconscious. He didn’t look very peaceful at any other time, Xanatos reflected. Maybe getting knocked out was good for him. Probably not. To Xanatos’ relief, though, Obi-Wan’s presence in the Force was faint, hard to find even if you knew what you were looking for. The man was shielding himself unconsciously, Xanatos suspected, a result of however long he’d spent on the run in his own universe. It was a reflex that Xanatos was very thankful for at the moment – Force only knew what Qui-Gon would have done had he sensed his wayward apprentice’s presence. Xanatos shook his head sadly, letting out a small sigh as he thoughtfully studied the other’s peaceful form. He would have a lot of explaining to do after this, he knew. It wouldn’t be easy to explain to his former master what he’d been hiding. At least part of the reason Qui-Gon was willing to so easily accept his pathetic excuses, he suspected, was to avoid further conflict. Qui-Gon wasn't stupid, after all, and his excuses were pathetic, to say the least. Breaking Qui-Gon’s already fragile trust, even for his own good, was a difficult decision at best. After giving Obi-Wan’s still form a quick once-over, Xanatos turned to his closet, thoughtfully pursing his lips. He didn’t have very many shirts Qui-Gon’s size, if he had any at all. In fact, the only shirt he could remember possessing that might be big enough was – Xanatos grinned. Oh yes. Perfect. The wicked grin was still in place by the time he strode back into the common room, hands clutching the shirt behind his back. Qui-Gon stood up when he saw him, smiling. "I’m afraid I’m going to have to go now, Xanatos," he apologized, slightly embarrassed. "I’m meeting Mace for a while after this, and I can’t really be late, you know." "I found a shirt, Qui-Gon," Xanatos told him brightly. "It was hiding in the back of the closet." "Oh that’s good," Qui-Gon said in relief, evidently not noticing the mischievous smile coloring his former Padawan’s face. He reached out a hand for it. "I’ll be grateful if you loaned it to me temporarily. I’ll send it back to you after I – " His mouth dropped open in horror when he saw the offered shirt. "You can’t be serious." "Quite serious, Qui-Gon," Xanatos responded impishly. "You said you needed a shirt after all. I don’t have very many shirts in your size." "That isn’t the one I left here that ... that one time, is it? It must be decades old by now!" "Yes, the time you got drunk and took Master Yoda’s dare." That had been rather interesting, Xanatos reflected. Though he hoped never to see the drunken male members of the Jedi Council in his quarters ever again, it provided enough blackmail to last him quite a while... not that he’d ever even consider using it, of course, but you could never be too careful. "Didn’t you have any others?" Qui-Gon asked pleadingly, looking at the shirt as if it were a rabid nexu. "I don’t think that – " "Sorry, Qui-Gon," Xanatos interrupted, forcing it into the other’s reluctant hands. "You don’t want to be wearing a stained shirt when you meet Master Windu, do you?" he asked in mock worry, putting a hand to his cheek in anxiety. "What would they say?" Qui-Gon scowled. "Funny, Xanatos," he replied, taking the garment. Carefully, Qui-Gon held it up to the light for inspection, squinting as he looked for any stains, holes, or any other reason to refuse it. He didn’t find any, to his dismay and to Xanatos’ glee. "Funny," he repeated with a dark glare for the younger man. Xanatos grinned. "I try." In an astounding display of Jedi control, Xanatos didn’t burst out laughing until Qui-Gon was well out of sight. Though Qui-Gon's robe covered most of the children’s illustrations of incredibly cute looking fuzzy Wookiees, he couldn’t keep it on forever... -----signature----- MS Word is designed by sadists with masochists in mind. - teh atty my recent Atton (KOTOR2) fic: http://boards.theforce.net/before_the_saga/b10475/30335989
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PadawanKitara Registered: Dec '01	Date Posted: 1/29/04 8:49pm Subject: RE: The Water's Edge (~cowritten with Happy_Hobbit_Padawan~ {~UPDATED Jan. 29~})
	This is one of my favorite posts. Why can't Xan go around solving the worlds problemsaby wacking people on the head? -----signature----- Courtier of the Royal Order of Shambling Dufi We are Dufi...Resistance is Futile! UCLA BRUINS
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Gabri_Jade Title: Fan Fiction Archive Editor Emeritus Registered: Nov '02	Date Posted: 1/30/04 1:04pm Subject: RE: The Water's Edge (~cowritten with Happy_Hobbit_Padawan~ {~UPDATED Jan. 29~})
	Good heavens, I don't know who to feel sorrier for - Obi-Wan or Xanatos. Brown and cream. Sometimes Xanatos thought the Jedi were colorblind. Amen. What to do now? He couldn’t have Obi-Wan killing Anakin. Grinning wickedly, he thought, Though a few excuses, some paperwork and everything would be nicely wrapped up . . . LOL!!! The blue eyes had just fluttered open when Xanatos reached his decision. He grabbed his lightsaber hilt and smacked Obi-Wan with it on the forehead. It hit with a thump. Obi-Wan fell back, unconscious again. winces Before he could recover, Xanatos found himself laying on his back and staring up at Qui-Gon's smiling, upside-down face. Very up. "You're too tall from down here," he informed his former master petulantly without thinking. giggles To his utter amazement, Qui-Gon slowly nodded his head. "I see," he finally responded, raising an eyebrow. "At least you didn’t try to mindtrick me like last time." "I was twelve!" Xanatos protested. "And it was a mess!" You know, I can really see that happening. He didn’t look very peaceful at any other time, Xanatos reflected. Maybe getting knocked out was good for him. Probably not. shakes head No, probably not. I wonder what poor Obi-Wan is going to do when he wakes up. I can't imagine that he'll be in a good mood. -----signature----- Evil Twin of LadyPadme This concept of "wuv" confuses and infuriates us! - Futurama All I can do is be me. Whoever that is. - Bob Dylan Serendipity (Leia-Mara vig) - http://boards.theforce.net/b/b1/30178069 !!11!1eleventy
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obaona Registered: Jun '02	Date Posted: 1/30/04 7:16pm Subject: RE: The Water's Edge (~cowritten with Happy_Hobbit_Padawan~ {~UPDATED Jan. 29~})
	PadawanKitara: Aye. I don't know why! 'Tis so sad, though. By now, he knocks people out so well. Oh, and thank you. Gabri: Obi. Glad you liked the colorblind thing . . . I figured Xanatos would think that way. He's very rebellious, in his own way. I love the 'mindtrick' scene, because I could picture it, too. As for Obi-Wan - you'll see. Thanks for reading! -----signature----- MS Word is designed by sadists with masochists in mind. - teh atty my recent Atton (KOTOR2) fic: http://boards.theforce.net/before_the_saga/b10475/30335989
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obaona Registered: Jun '02	Date Posted: 2/1/04 1:32am Subject: RE: The Water's Edge (~cowritten with Happy_Hobbit_Padawan~ {~UPDATED Jan. 29~})
	A bit shorter, but the next post will be long. ~~* The long hallways of the Jedi Temple were large, elegant, and somewhat intimidating. However, having lived and walked among them his entire life, Anakin didn’t really notice. He walked past the elegant archways, heading for his own room. The royal blue carpet was soft beneath his booted feet, providing a cushion for his every step – especially appreciated after that tutorial with that crazed woman. Genius fighter his – His comm chirped. He stopped, wincing, then took the comlink off his belt, taking the time to massage a cramp in his calf while he did so. “Skywalker,” he said curtly. “Anakin, I need your help,” Xanatos’ voice told him, sounding rushed and nervous. Quite unusual for the normally confident knight. Anakin sighed. “With what?” Anakin asked tiredly. “What do you think?” Xanatos replied, with an edge of impatience. Then there was a pause, and a sigh. “Look, I really do need your help. I need you to watch him for a few hours.” Forgetting the cramp in his leg, Anakin flitted his eyes around, checking for nearby people, then hissed into the comlink, “Are you insane? I’m not going to be by myself with an undead lunatic that wants me dead!” Xanatos voice went soft and persuasive – a voice that had cajoled and persuaded many planets into treaties and truces. “I’ll tie him down,” he told Anakin encouragingly, nearly wheedling. Anakin squeezed his eyes shut, thinking. Could he really refuse his friend? Xanatos and Qui-Gon had been his friends for many years, and had helped him many times along the long, troubled, and weary path to Knighthood. What was one undead lunatic against all that? “All right,” Anakin conceded, breathing deeply. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Then he shut off the comlink, heaving a deep sigh. He massaged his aching calf muscle a moment longer, then set off for Xanatos quarters. It took him several minutes longer than it would have taken him with his own place, since Xanatos lived higher up then Anakin, a lowly Padawan, did. The training rooms that Soara had used were on the lower levels of the Temple. She used them for the simple reason that she found the different obstacles and various odd objects that turned up far more realistic for a place where one would actually fight. And Anakin had to admit that made sense, even if his calf muscle didn’t think so. By the time Anakin reached Xanatos’ door, his muscles were really aching, and begging mercilessly for a shower. Gritting his teeth, Anakin called upon the Force and let it relax and soothe his muscles. Just before Anakin was about to slap his hand against the control panel for the door, it opened. The tall, dark eyed Jedi looked him in the eye and stated simply, “He’s tied up. Now – I’ve got to go to a mission debriefing, for the Jedi team that’s going to be following up on the treaty.” “He’s secure?” Anakin asked, still somewhat unsure. Xanatos nodded. “Yes. Try and keep an eye on whether he broadcasts his emotions or thoughts into the Force – I doubt he will, since he didn’t while he was unconscious, but . . .” he trailed off. Anakin nodded. “And I’ve got to go now,” he said, flashing a quick grin then slipping past the Padawan. Anakin watched him move away quickly, moving with speed without really appearing to hurry. He would have to drag how to do that out of Xanatos sometime – he still got stopped by Knights and Masters who told him to slow down. Deciding he couldn’t ignore where he was for any longer, he entered the apartment. Simple, plain, and largely undecorated. Just like Anakin remembered it. He was pretty sure that Xanatos had no clue that Anakin used to bring Xanatos’ fan club members here for a certain fee . . . it had been quite lucrative. Of course, he couldn’t do that now. He was an adult. A Jedi. Anakin snorted. He stripped off his robe and threw it over the one couch that dominated the living room. He ignored the small kitchen and went to Xanatos’ bedroom, where he was fairly certain the former Jedi would be. And he was. Obi-Wan Kenobi lay sprawled across the bed in an uncomfortable position. True to his word, Obi-Wan was firmly tied to the bed, his arms tied to the headboard with a twisted rope. A gag was in his mouth, for good measure. All Anakin had to do was stay out of the range of the man’s legs, and he would be fine. His calf muscle gave a sharp, stabbing pain in reminder. Wincing, Anakin left the room. He returned with a chair he had found in the kitchen, which had been suspiciously messy. Not to mention a big, stained shirt, which would never fit the slim Xanatos, lying on one of the chairs. Puzzled, Anakin ignored it and grabbed another of the sleek, comfortable chairs. He dragged it into the bedroom, sat it by the doorway but in the room, out of the way, and sat. Looking at him now, Anakin wasn’t sure how he had recognized the turned Jedi. The Kenobi he had seen in pictures and heard of in hushed tales had been strong and healthy, with a good face and athletic body. Obi-Wan – he differentiated the two of them in his mind that way, Obi-Wan being good and Kenobi being bad – was not that way at all. He was very thin, obviously so even under the loose clothing and blanket. The long hair and wild beard were different as well, nearly disguising his features. Nearly. And yet, obviously these two men were different, if everything Xanatos had told him was true. And Xanatos was no fool. If this Obi-Wan truly was from another universe, then Anakin was very inclined to believe him, strange as the tale might seem. He wondered, as he was sure Xanatos wondered, what that other universe was like. What other path the universe could have taken. His jumbled, musing thoughts were interrupted by a low moan. Anakin tensed in his chair, looking intently at the slowly awakening man. Obi-Wan moaned again, then his eyes fluttered open, the look in them dazed and confused. Almost immediately, though, his eyes scanned the room – and fell upon Anakin. To say that he tensed was an understatement. He yanked his wrists down – as much as he could, at any rate – arched his back in an attempt to get himself free, and kicked. After a few minutes, however, he subsided, panting heavily. His eyes were wide and wild, and were kept on Anakin’s face. Anakin cleared his throat uncomfortably, but didn’t rise from his chair. “Hello.” He paused. “We, uh, haven’t been formally introduced. I’m Anakin Skywalker. And I – know who you are, so no need to . . .” Obi-Wan stared at him without blinking. It was so direct and intense that it was unnerving. Staring back at Obi-Wan a moment longer, Anakin realized that even if he had had anything sane or civil to say, he couldn’t speak with the gag – and Anakin was afraid to take it off, fearful of Obi-Wan bringing some currently unwanted attention to Xanatos’ quarters. Finally, seeing the fear and distress still present in Obi-Wan’s still face and wild eyes, Anakin spoke. “I’m not going to hurt you.” Obi-Wan didn’t give any sort of nonverbal response. “Xanatos told me about you being from a parallel universe. Whoever you’re afraid of, or why ever you wanted to murder me on sight, I’m . . . not him.” He smiled feebly. “I’m just Yoda’s Padawan, is all.” Obi-Wan blinked slowly. The terror and strange intensity of his stare seemed to lessen a bit with that tidbit of knowledge. Heartened and rather hoping that he would not have to spend the next few hours enduring that frightful stare, Anakin continued speaking – telling Obi-Wan about himself. Anakin. He told Obi-Wan about his first memory – being in swimming class in the Temple. He told him how much he liked water back then, playing in it and feeling it in the Force. He told him of how he came to be Yoda’s Padawan. Even Yoda’s doubts and reluctance to take him as an apprentice. He spoke of years of training, missions, and friends. He told Obi-Wan about his crush, about the Jedi. He spoke of himself, his private fears and thoughts, not even knowing why he would reveal so much of himself to a man he wasn’t even sure was sane. And yet . . . the Force seemed to indicate it was the right thing to do. He didn’t mention Qui-Gon. He told Obi-Wan about his favorite swimming instructor – who was still a friend of his – Bant Eerin. Bant had once been one of Kenobi’s friends, but the friendship had fallen apart by the time Kenobi had been a Padawan for a few years. He didn’t mention any of that, though. Nothing about the other Obi-Wan Kenobi, dead and turned. He watched Obi-Wan as he spoke. With each passing word and amusing tale of Anakin’s hijinks, he calmed. Bant’s name made him tense – not with fear, but pain. Anakin watched his eyes carefully as he talked – Obi-Wan could hide little in those eyes. Impassivity was a Jedi skill, but it seemed it was one that Obi-Wan had lost. Anakin told Obi-Wan of his hopes and dreams of Knighthood. And it was that final, little thing that made the last of whatever ghost that haunted Obi-Wan’s eyes whenever he saw Anakin fall away. He almost missed it, it was so slight. A single, small tear fell down Obi-Wan’s face. Anakin was so shocked he stopped speaking. He studied those clear eyes carefully, and found some unidentifiable, but strangely gentle emotion in them. Slowly, Anakin walked over to Obi-Wan. He carefully loosened the gag, which had been hastily made of a rag. When he took it off, Obi-Wan said nothing for a moment. “I’m glad it turned out well somewhere,” Obi-Wan whispered finally, hoarsely, with a voice full of regret. Anakin didn’t know what to say. Only hours before – and hours had passed in the telling of Anakin’s life – this man had wanted to kill him. This change was as surprising as it was inscrutable. He had seen a shift in those eyes, and he didn’t know what it meant. But he knew that Obi-Wan would not cause him harm. The Force, its nudge gentle but firm, told him that. Finally, in response to Obi-Wan’s confusing statement, he nodded. “I’m glad too,” Anakin said simply. He smiled, and Obi-Wan gave the slightest, barely perceptible smile in return. -----signature----- MS Word is designed by sadists with masochists in mind. - teh atty my recent Atton (KOTOR2) fic: http://boards.theforce.net/before_the_saga/b10475/30335989
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Gabri_Jade Title: Fan Fiction Archive Editor Emeritus Registered: Nov '02	Date Posted: 2/1/04 9:12pm Subject: RE: The Water's Edge (~cowritten with Happy_Hobbit_Padawan~ {~Updated Feb. 1~} Winner of Best Coll
	Xanatos and Qui-Gon had been his friends for many years, and had helped him many times along the long, troubled, and weary path to Knighthood. What was one undead lunatic against all that? LOL! He was pretty sure that Xanatos had no clue that Anakin used to bring Xanatos’ fan club members here for a certain fee . . . it had been quite lucrative. No way! Wait, I can actually see Anakin doing that . . . “I’m glad it turned out well somewhere,” Obi-Wan whispered finally, hoarsely, with a voice full of regret. Oh, poor Obi-Wan. Lovely, dear. -----signature----- Evil Twin of LadyPadme This concept of "wuv" confuses and infuriates us! - Futurama All I can do is be me. Whoever that is. - Bob Dylan Serendipity (Leia-Mara vig) - http://boards.theforce.net/b/b1/30178069 !!11!1eleventy
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obaona Registered: Jun '02	Date Posted: 2/2/04 11:49am Subject: RE: The Water's Edge (~cowritten with Happy_Hobbit_Padawan~ {~Updated Feb. 1~} Winner of Best Coll
	Gabri: Yep, Anakin is more than capable of that. I mean, this is Anakin, after all . . . And yes, poor Obi-Wan. It's always poor Obi-Wan! Thank you, dear. -----signature----- MS Word is designed by sadists with masochists in mind. - teh atty my recent Atton (KOTOR2) fic: http://boards.theforce.net/before_the_saga/b10475/30335989
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Gabri_Jade Title: Fan Fiction Archive Editor Emeritus Registered: Nov '02	Date Posted: 2/2/04 12:09pm Subject: RE: The Water's Edge (~cowritten with Happy_Hobbit_Padawan~ {~Updated Feb. 1~} Winner of Best Coll
	laughs I forgot. It is always 'poor Obi-Wan' with this story, isn't it? All right, just consider 'poor Obi-Wan' said with each of my posts. -----signature----- Evil Twin of LadyPadme This concept of "wuv" confuses and infuriates us! - Futurama All I can do is be me. Whoever that is. - Bob Dylan Serendipity (Leia-Mara vig) - http://boards.theforce.net/b/b1/30178069 !!11!1eleventy
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PadawanKitara Registered: Dec '01	Date Posted: 2/2/04 10:24pm Subject: RE: The Water's Edge (~cowritten with Happy_Hobbit_Padawan~ {~Updated Feb. 1~} Winner of Best Coll
	I’m not going to be by myself with an undead lunatic that wants me dead -----signature----- Courtier of the Royal Order of Shambling Dufi We are Dufi...Resistance is Futile! UCLA BRUINS
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kayladie97 Registered: Jun '03	Date Posted: 2/3/04 6:34am Subject: RE: The Water's Edge (~cowritten with Happy_Hobbit_Padawan~ {~Updated Feb. 1~} Winner of Best Coll
	Congratulations on winning Best Collaboration! Y'all definitely deserved it. How do you work together, anyway? Just say, 'I'll do this scene, you do the next?' Just curious, as I've never attempted to write with another person before. ?:\| And once again, thanks to DRL, I am way behind! Also not in a very good mood as I just had to pay $1000 to get my minivan fixed. So now I'm behind AND broke! I know you write - do you ever have scenes that almost write themselves? Not usually. Writing is difficult for me, sometimes only coming one little paragraph at a time. The closest I've come to a scene like that is probably the one in Sleight of Hand where Han and Chewie rescue Mara from being stranded on Hoth. I was quite proud of the way that one turned out and it actually came fairly quickly. So, I'll just try to catch up a little here.... He finally broke down and started weeping, holding his face in his hands to hide the tears. Even so, his mind kept working, kept thinking, kept looking for a means to salvage some sort of good from this disaster. Obi-Wan in this story is really stretched to the limits of his endurance, isn't he? I feel for him so much, he's so broken. Obi-Wan leapt, grabbing Xanatos’ outstretched arm to pull himself up. Xanatos fell with a little yelp of surprise as Obi-Wan smoothly grabbed the other man’s lightsaber, yanking it off his belt with a decisive motion. And yet, so sneaky! I loved that part! Makes you think, though, how low Obi-Wan has had to go in order to survive for so long. It points out the differences in the Xanatos of this world and the one in Obi-Wan's as well. Somehow, I have the feeling the Xanatos of Obi-Wan's world would NEVER have let someone else get hold of his lightsaber! Xanatos casually turned to face Anakin. His slow, mischievous smile was his only answer. Heh! I can picture that in my head SO easily. I can only imagine all the trouble this Xanatos must have caused in his younger days! He couldn’t have Obi-Wan killing Anakin. Grinning wickedly, he thought, Though a few excuses, some paperwork and everything would be nicely wrapped up . . . I like the way you're letting us in on little clues to Xanatos' character, especially for those of us who aren't familiar with him. He seems to be one of those who fall back on humor when he's stressed. And he's definitely stressed in this story! Although, I kept wondering...why did he and Anakin have to carry Obi-Wan the whole time? Couldn't they have used the Force to help themselves? Or would that have increased the chances of them getting caught? Okay, I really can't pull anything specific out for this next part as I loved the whole scene! It had a very sit-com feel to it, which I think is a nice break from all the angstiness earlier in the story. As long as we get some more angst later! I love Xanatos trying to cook and then having to offer Qui-Gon crackers because it's all he has left. And Qui-Gon knows his former padawan so well that he wonders if he turned the temp up on the oven so it would cook faster. That is SUCH a guy thing to do, btw! And the bit with the spicy sauce was also hilarious! Reminds me of the time my nephew at about age two kept bugging his dad for a taste of his hot wings. My brother got so irritated with his continued pleas that he finally gave him some. The results were VERY funny, although Andrew's mom was not too happy, as I recall. Though Qui-Gon's robe covered most of the children’s illustrations of incredibly cute looking fuzzy Wookiees, he couldn’t keep it on forever... Fuzzy wookiees!! I don't even want to know what else that dare might have entailed! He was pretty sure that Xanatos had no clue that Anakin used to bring Xanatos’ fan club members here for a certain fee . . . it had been quite lucrative. Something tells me Anakin is an even bigger headache as a padawan than Xanatos was and that's probably saying a lot. I think this was quite enterprising of the boy, myself. Impassivity was a Jedi skill, but it seemed it was one that Obi-Wan had lost. Makes me think of all the other things Obi-Wan has lost. Dangit, I really didn't want to like PT Obi-Wan, Oba, and you're making me do that! But he knew that Obi-Wan would not cause him harm. The Force, its nudge gentle but firm, told him that. Anakin seems to listen to what the Force is telling him more readily in this universe. I wonder if that's a consequence of having Yoda as a Master? Or perhaps the Council not being so against him becoming a Jedi? At any rate, he's much less arrogant in this incarnation than the Anakin from Obi-Wan's universe...more mischievous than anything else, it seems. I'll try to stay more caught up from here on out, so I don't have to do these massive posts! I am so looking forward to finding out where y'all plan on taking this story. -----signature----- My new philosophy of life (borrowed from Elvis Presley) "The sun's down and the moon is pretty. It's time to ramble."
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Sock_of_Darth_Vader Registered: Dec '02	Date Posted: 2/3/04 9:37am Subject: RE: The Water's Edge (~cowritten with Happy_Hobbit_Padawan~ {~Updated Feb. 1~} Winner of Best Coll
	Aw, poor Obi-Wan. LOL...undead lunatic... -----signature----- All your privets are belong to us. Catré, Handmaiden of the Crest. I'm the mini-oba! Fic in Bio. http://a-larger-world.com : Star Wars fanfiction http://catofthejedi.users.btopenworld.com Star Wars is a two-trilogy saga; everything else is optional.
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obaona Registered: Jun '02	Date Posted: 2/3/04 11:48am Subject: RE: The Water's Edge (~cowritten with Happy_Hobbit_Padawan~ {~Updated Feb. 1~} Winner of Best Coll
	Gabri: Yes, yes it is. And noted. PK: kayladie97: Thank you! I think we've been nominated twice before and lost, so it was about time. And yes, most of the time, that's how we do it. Just recently, though, HHP wrote a scene and I thought it needed more work, but she didn't have the time, so I extended it, adding thoughts and a few paragraphs at the end. You poor thing. hugs Let's hope it doesn't break down again, shall we? I wondered where you were, and I guess that explains it. Scenes that write themselves are always rare, I think. I've had it happen, but not often, when you consider how much I've written. Yes, you're supposed to feel for Obi-Wan. I'm trying to avoid making him too pathetic, though. (Both Elli and I did, really.) Hence the later parts where even in that state, Obi-Wan isn't going down easily. And you're absolutely right, the Xanatos of Obi-Wan's universe would never have let Obi-Wan get his lightsaber. Xan probably caused nearly as much mischief as Anakin in his younger days. Xanatos' character isn't much explored in the EU, so most of him here is Elli and mine's creation. However, even during the EU, he always struck me as someone with sharp wit and dark humor. And the thing you have to remember about the Force is that using it does require energy - there's no guarantee using the Force would have been any less exhausting then carrying Obi-Wan. Just think of the effort Yoda uses to lift things, and then try to imagine holding a human being a lot longer than Yoda held anything. Glad you loved all the humor - I wrote half of that, and as I don't consider myself skilled at humor, I was most proud of myself. I think most of the kitchen/dinner scene came from Elli's real life experiences. She says she did get knocked on her butt once when someone opened a door, so the rest may have happened to her as well. The thing I'm always reminded of in the hot sauce part is of that one commercial, where this guy has this bottle of Tabasco sauce, and then this mesquito (sp?) bites him, goes off . . . and explodes. Anakin was terribly enterprising. He should have been an entreprenuer. I'm glad I'm making you like Obi-Wan. Actually, I've had several people tell me on this story that I made them like Anakin, and they were upset about it! You're right, Anakin is different. He's truly ready for Knighthood. He does listen to the Force, and he is calmer, more patient. His rebelliousness shows up in more innocent ways here. But a lot of that is not only due to his upbringing, but the galaxy he is brought up in. huggies Hope to see you more, and that you keep enjoying! Sock_of_Darth_Vader: Aye, to both. Undead lunatics are to be pitied. -----signature----- MS Word is designed by sadists with masochists in mind. - teh atty my recent Atton (KOTOR2) fic: http://boards.theforce.net/before_the_saga/b10475/30335989
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obaona Registered: Jun '02	Date Posted: 2/3/04 5:20pm Subject: RE: The Water's Edge (~cowritten with Happy_Hobbit_Padawan~ {~Updated Feb. 1~} Winner of Best Coll
	If there was one thing Xanatos hated about being a Jedi, it was the Force-damned paperwork. Not in the literal sense, of course. But though he could successfully handle just about everything they threw his way, from diplomacy to espionage to, as Anakin was so fond of calling them, “aggressive negotiations”, somehow, standing in front of the Jedi Council made him blush and stammer worse than Obi-Wan’s lurid threats and insults ever had. There were times when he thought he would rather navigate blindly through a black hole than spend just those few crucial moments before the severe faces of the Council to tell them about his missions and the results. They weren’t even hard, these little debriefings; he just didn’t like them. One of his friends had laughingly summed it up quite succinctly; he had a bad case of chân ði – “itchy feet” in some language he couldn’t remember at the moment. Much as he grumbled and groaned about it, though, Xanatos had to admit that the friend had been right. Having to stay in one place – if only long enough to tell the Council what he’d been up to and assure them he hadn’t broken too many major rules along the way – was irritating. He had long ago fallen in love with the feel of the road beneath his feet, metaphorically speaking. He worked by himself, depended on himself, and liked it that way. But - once again - he had somehow survived it without embarrassing himself too badly. It had taken longer than he had expected, and he had to continually remind himself not to stutter through his story - the portion of the story he had decided to tell, at any rate – and his palms had been clammy with cold sweat by the end of it, but Xanatos knew that he had been a good enough actor to pull it off. A few of them had thought something was bothering him – Master Windu pulled him aside afterwards to ask if he felt sick – but they trusted him. He was their Knight, after all, the most active Knight the Order had in these days of peace. Legendary, almost. It gave him an odd sort of pang to betray that trust, a duller version of the sharp pangs he got from lying to Qui-Gon, but he would do what had to be done. There was no help for it. And even if they did suspect, none of them would think he was hiding a long-dead dark Jedi in his rooms. Xanatos sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. Surely they knew I lied, he thought to himself. But there’s nothing to be done about it now. Soon, Master Yoda would be back from his leave of absence, and then . . . he didn’t know what. Something, surely, but he hadn’t tried to think that far ahead yet. Taking a little bit at a time, that was the key. Master Windu, though, had found Qui-Gon’s Wookiee shirt episode incredibly funny. "I hope you stay a bit longer this time, Knight Xanatos. If only because Qui-Gon needs an extra bit of excitement in his life, you understand," Master Windu had told him with a grin, the white of his teeth contrasting vividly with his dark skin as he clapped the younger Jedi on the shoulder. "I can't remember the last time I saw him so happy; he couldn't hide that, even if he was flushing darker than a Tatooinian sunset." A faint smile lit up his face at the memory as Xanatos descended the last few stairs to his floor. Though simply taking the lift would have been much easier while not carrying Obi-Wan’s limp form, Xanatos found on the way to the Council rooms that a fairly large gaggle of female Padawans was lying in wait at the lift entrance. How they had known what floor his room was on he had no idea, but he had the feeling that he might have a long chat with a certain Padawan Skywalker about it sooner or later. Xanatos absently leapt over the second topmost step, a habit he had somehow never let go of. The step wasn’t fixed in place, loose where the others were steady. He had learned that the hard way more than once. It had been twilight by the time he finished with the Council. The skies were dark and onyx, the stars present but invisible against the backdrop of Coruscant’s lights. A blanket drawn across the sky, almost, but the neon lights more than made up for it. Almost as if the world had been turned upside down – the skies were ebony while the earth glowed. The halls were quiet by this time in the evening. Most of its occupants – those not away somewhere in the galaxy – were eating or resting. The Padawans would have finished their classes by now, perhaps working on the next day’s assignments as the adults enjoyed their temporary silence. A strange parody of domestic life to an outsider, perhaps, but as close as one could get to it in the Temple. He smiled slightly as he put his palm on the pad. Domestic? Perhaps his age was finally starting to catch up with him. No one else would refer to a life of Jedi training and missions as the typical domestic scene, though it certainly seemed so after so long away. The Temple was his home, the Jedi his family. And no matter how much he denied it, no matter how his wings ached to fly away, it would always be that way. “Anakin?” he called as he strode it, quickly surveying his quarters to see if Anakin had succeeded in destroying anything. The boy had a talent with that kind of thing. A long black smear marked the kitchen floor, but that wasn’t Anakin’s fault . . . Cooked arqet in sauce should come with a warning label. “Anakin?” Xanatos repeated, forehead wrinkling slightly in worry. Why wasn’t the boy answering? For one impossibly long moment, he permitted himself to wonder. To wonder, hypothetically of course, what would happened if someone were to stumble into his quarters and find an “undead lunatic” guarded only by a Padawan, albeit a powerful one. To wonder how quickly it would take for the said “undead lunatic” to be brought before a member of the Council and – Spurred on by fear and dread, Xanatos found himself dashing into the bedroom, hoping that Obi-Wan was still tied to the bedposts, that Anakin had just stepped out to the bathroom or outside for a breath of fresh air – He didn’t find what he feared, to say the least. Obi-Wan was peacefully sleeping again, the ropes that bound his arms lying in coils on the floor. His gag had been removed and his quiet breaths came in rhythm with the serene rise and fall of his chest. To Xanatos’ surprise – and relief – he looked far more composed now than Xanatos had ever seen him. Like some internal conflict had somehow been resolved, almost. He brushed that thought aside. Anakin, though . . . Xanatos smirked as he watched the Padawan snore, leaning on the bed from a chair he had gotten from Force-knew-where, with his head pillowed on one of his arms, the other hand protectively hovering near the sleeping Obi-Wan. Tired from his studies, probably, Xanatos mused to himself, watching the scene for a moment. Force knew that Soara’s tutorials weren’t the easiest offered in the Temple, though they prepared the soon-to-be-Knights astonishingly well. But to Xanatos’ considerable surprise, Obi-Wan wasn’t the only one peacefully sleeping. Anakin seemed perfectly content to doze within an arm's reach of the undead lunatic he’d been dead set against watching not so long before. With a certain degree of sadness for disturbing the peaceful scene, Xanatos found himself walking over to wake up the Padawan. “Anakin,” he called softly, kneeling down and gently shaking the other’s shoulder. “Anakin, wake up.” “Lemme ‘lone, Mastr ‘oda” the Padawan muttered sleepily, shifting slightly. Xanatos smiled, slightly amused at the Padawan’s sleepy confusion, but shook the boy’s shoulder harder nonetheless. “Anakin,” he repeated, more firmly this time. “Wake up.” “Wha?” Anakin asked sleepily, raising his head from his makeshift pillow and blinking blearily. “Sure, Mastr 'oda. But just give me another few minutes, and I promise I’ll be – ” “Ashamed you should be,” Xanatos teased, grinning despite himself. “Fallen asleep while guarding undead lunatic you should not have, Padawan Skywalker,” he mimicked, a fair imitation of the old troll’s own unique way of speaking. “Five hours of meditation you should have for this, hmm?” Anakin’s head jerked up, blue eyes suddenly wide with surprise. He relaxed visibly when he saw the other man’s grinning face. “Not funny, Xanatos!” he snapped irritably, reaching his hand up to wipe at his sleep-blurred eyes. “You scared me half to death!” Xanatos sent a roguish wink his way, earning a swat in his general direction. The boy was still much too sleepy to hit him anyway. “Thought you were guarding him,” he said laconically, raising an eyebrow. The boy flushed, turning his head away slightly. “I was . . . we were talking, but he fell asleep and I kind of...” Anakin trailed off, blushing furiously at Xanatos’ teasing. “Kind of . . .?” “Kind of fell asleep,” Anakin finally finished in embarrassment. Xanatos smiled slightly. “Getting ready for Trials is hard work, hmm?” Anakin blinked at him, startled. “What?” “I took them too, remember?” Xanatos rebuked him teasingly. “Qui-Gon obsessed over it for months, trained with me nearly every day for a month or so before he was finally ready to let me try it. It almost seemed like he was more afraid of my failing the test than I was. Almost,” he admitted with a self-deprecatory smile. “How was it?” Anakin asked curiously. “The Trials, I mean. No one else will tell me.” “Well,” Xanatos answered solemnly, “I’m not allowed to tell you the specifics, but I will tell you that Qui-Gon always told me it’d be the hardest test I’d ever take unless Master Yoda asked me to take a turn with the younglings.” “And was it?” Xanatos winked. “You’ll just have to wait and see,” he told him grin. Anakin made a face. “Helpful, Xanatos,” he pouted petulantly. “Really helpful,” he mock-growled, sending a swat in Xanatos’ direction. His aim was better this time, catching Xanatos’ shirt as the older man dodged out of the way. Still smiling slightly, Xanatos pulled himself up from the floor with a grunt, reaching to the bed for support. “Stars, maybe my age is finally catching up to me,” he groaned, rubbing his back. It still ached from carrying Obi-Wan’s limp form up the stairs, though the sharp pain had dulled to a throb. Force knew that he wasn’t as spry as he had once been, at any rate. A soft snort reached his ear. “You’ll be old the day Master Yoda stops speaking backwards,” Anakin predicted with a sigh. Xanatos stuck out his tongue. “When the downhill side of forty you reach, look this good you will not,” he declared with injured pride. “And I’ll bet that my fanclub would still be able to beat yours,” he added with a wink. “Not likely,” Anakin countered. “Blondes have more fun.” The dark-eyed man ruffled the other’s hair, to Anakin’s protest. One of the strange things about the boy, he supposed. You always just instinctively wanted to ruffle his hair – he kept that innocent boyishness even when he stood taller than you. “You keep telling yourself that,” Xanatos said with a smile. “Though with your luck you’ll probably be bald by then.” Anakin’s eyes widened in mock-horror, a dramatic hand going to his cheek. “No!” he cried in terror, falling from the chair to the floor in a faint. The grin was back within three seconds, though, when Anakin had to sit up to laugh lest he choke himself. That would be the perfect ending to a perfect day, Xanatos thought sourly, though he couldn’t quite keep the laughter from escaping. “Yes, Master Windu, Anakin Skywalker just happened to die laughing in my quarters. Yes, Obi-Wan Kenobi was there too. No, I feel fine, and I'm sure don’t need a trip to the medbay. Psychiatric ward, you say? No, but thanks for the offer.” It was fun bantering back and forth with Anakin, he reflected. One of the better things about staying cooped up in the Temple. He only wished he could do it more, but now probably wasn’t the best time. It just figured that things would happen now, though. The Force didn’t seem to want to let him have a vacation, even when at home. “- - times.” Xanatos blinked, turning his attention back to the Padawan, who had quickly gotten up from the floor with nary any stiffness to be seen, spry and flexible as a water reed. “Pardon?” he asked. “What did you just say?” “I said that Obi-Wan looked like he’d been through tough times,” Anakin repeated, yawning widely and reaching for the ceiling. Xanatos stared at him for a few moments until the Padawan finally dropped his gaze, blushing. “Eh . . . and how long did it take you to figure this out, Anakin?” Xanatos asked carefully. “That’s not what I meant!” Anakin snapped back, still flushed. “Then what did you mean?” Xanatos asked softly. This was important, somehow, he could feel it. The Padawan had found some connection or clue he’d missed. Anakin appeared to take a moment to gather his thoughts. Xanatos privately marveled at that – apparently the old troll had taught him something after all. “I know that some terrible things happened to him in his own galaxy,” he began slowly, gathering words as he went, “but there’s something more there. Something . . . I don’t know. But he’s not like one of those survivors we pick up on routine missions. There’s something different, something haunting him, Xanatos,” Anakin continued softly. “I don’t know what it is, and I’m not sure I want to, but I’m willing to bet that a fair amount of it is guilt.” A moment of silence. Xanatos dropped down to the side of the bed, his thoughts whirling and his legs unsteady. Is that it? he wondered. What had Obi-Wan done there that could plague him enough to attempt suicide? he pondered somewhat uneasily. His own Kenobi had done plenty in his lifetime worth a few eternities of grief, but this Obi-Wan was different. Xanatos knew that, felt it in his bones, heard it whispered to him through the Force. So what had the man done? Or, perhaps, what had he not done? “You don’t believe me.” Anakin’s sad voice cut through the turmoil of his thoughts. Xanatos quickly glanced up, seeing Anakin’s woeful and somewhat embarrassed expression. “Oh, I believe you,” Xanatos reassured quickly, holding his hands out helplessly. “It’s just a lot to think about, you know,” he added. Anakin nodded slowly, the ghost of a grin making its way up his face. “’Fraid I can’t help you there, Xanatos,” he apologized, affably clapping the other man on the shoulder. “I promised Chancellor Palpatine I’d see him this evening before I bedded down for the night.” Xanatos frowned slightly but didn’t protest. Though he wasn’t quite sure if it was just a reflex from spending such an inordinate amount of time near various politicians, he found that he just didn’t like them. Perhaps the Supreme Chancellor in particular, merely because the pure fact that he was the Chancellor meant that he was the best at what he did. And Xanatos was world-weary enough to know that politicians wore away that baby-kissing veneer rather quickly after they were elected into office. “Well good luck with that then,” he finally offered, hoisting himself from off the bed. “Though you should probably already be in bed,” he added sternly. “Soara wouldn’t appreciate you dozing off in lightsaber training tomorrow.” Anakin winked, already nearly out the bedroom door. “Who needs sleep anymore?” he called over his shoulder just before disappearing around the corner. The door's soft whoosh signaled Anakin’s departure several seconds later. Xanatos smiled, a tad sourly. Boys will be boys. He stretched again, trying to work out the crinks in his back after carrying Obi-Wan up the stairs, turning around at the hips – – and yelped when he saw a set of blue-gray eyes looking at him. “How long have you been awake?” Xanatos demanded as soon as he recovered the greater portion of his dignity. Stars, but Obi-Wan had scared him. His sudden awakening was fit for something he’d see in one of those cheap holodramas. The man’s eyes would open and stare at you in the darkness until he got up and started forward with sharp, pointed teeth and a demented grin – Force, my imagination runs wild sometimes. Obi-Wan smiled, a genuine smile, as he sat up in bed. “Not too long,” he assured the dark-eyed Knight. “It’s just come to be a habit of sorts to keep quiet when I wake,” he explained with a slightly self-deprecatory smile. Xanatos nodded. He could understand that. After all, surviving in whatever hell Obi-Wan had come from was bound to program a few tricks into the human psyche, just to stay a step ahead of . . . whatever was following him. Uneasily, his thoughts were drawn back to Anakin’s theory of guilt. Stars, I hope he didn’t hear that. “When did you wake up?” Xanatos asked warily. “I just heard something about Palpatine and that was it.” Xanatos nodded in relief, too absorbed in that transient feeling to notice the slight change in Obi-Wan’s eyes at that name, the impression that the eyes had somehow gotten colder and more resolved to do . . . something. It had passed by the time he looked up. The undead lunatic had changed in the last few hours, Xanatos noted. Nothing immediately perceptible, but he seemed more at ease than he had before Anakin had spoken with him about whatever they talked about. It lifted Xanatos’ heart just a bit higher to see that the healing process had at least been started. “Can I ask you something, though?” Obi-Wan asked nervously, absently twisting the blanket between his hands. “Sure, just shoot.” “What are the . . . the Jedi’s feeling about . . . about . . . has Anakin met his mother?” he finally blurted out, eyes wide with what seemed like apprehension. Expecting the worst, Xanatos thought absently. He frowned, thinking. “Anakin’s mother?” he repeated slowly. “I don’t believe so. Anakin was just a child when we found him on Tatooine. Just barely walking.” “And his mother? Was she a slave?” Obi-Wan pressed. Why does he have such an interest in Anakin’s family? “Slavery is illegal in the Republic,” Xanatos responded in finality, trying to close it to further discussion. The subject of family bothered him – not bothered, exactly, but made him uncomfortable. The Jedi were his family, and he had never had cause to look for anything different, though he didn’t know how it had been for Obi-Wan before. But Obi-Wan only responded with a quiet “Ah,” leaving Xanatos with dozens more questions than the ones he’d just answered. = = = = = When Xanatos finally left, saying something about sleeping on the couch for the night, Obi-Wan lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. Palpatine, he thought to himself in the darkness. He's here, too. Strangely, that thought didn’t bring any hate, just, mostly, a profound sense of sadness and regret. Perhaps he was just too burned out to feel any hate towards anyone. Not far from the realm of possibility, that. A faint, very thin something brushed by his hand in the dark. Obi-Wan frowned, attempting to find the thin strand of something in the darkness, feeling around the bed until he had found it and held it up to his eyes for inspection. A hair. A single short blonde hair. “I won’t fail you again, Ani,” he promised quietly in the dark. “No matter what.” Obi-Wan Kenobi fell asleep that night in the Temple he had called home for decades; home but not home, more than a galaxy away from his own. His last thought before he dropped into sleep was to wonder if they still kept the spare lightsabers in the same place. ~~~~* “I’m sure that would be acceptable to the Jedi Council, Chancellor,” Anakin said with a warm smile. He knew Xanatos didn’t care for Palpatine that much – not that Xanatos cared for any politician, really – but he believed the Chancellor to be a good and honest man. He had never seen anything to indicate the man was otherwise. “My dear boy, Palpatine will do,” Palpatine said in a patient tone, smiling. He sat behind his black, curved desk, which was littered with information pads. His office was austere, as befitting his station, but there were occasional warm touches like flowers and a few personal items. “I’m actually glad the Council is so interested in the war situation on Reglai 6. Their wisdom has always been greatly appreciated by this office.” “We live to serve,” Anakin said with a hint of humor. He sat across from the Chancellor, in one of the plump, furnished chairs. It was a deep maroon color, contrasting nicely with the gray of the walls and the dark elegance of the desk. “So you will inform them of my visit tomorrow morning, to discuss Reglai 6?” Palpatine asked, searching for a confirmation. Anakin nodded. “I’ll tell them before I lay down for the night, Chan – I mean, Palpatine.” The Padawan smiled a bit nervously, still somewhat intimidated by the position of the Chancellor. “They’re usually up late anyway, discussing the decisions of the day.” Palpatine smiled and rose. Anakin followed his example and bowed deeply, folding his robe around himself. “I wish you the best of luck with your Trials, Anakin,” Palpatine offered. “Thank you, Ch – Palpatine,” Anakin replied, blushing the slightest bit. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Palpatine said, nodding slightly. He smiled at Anakin, who smiled back. Then Anakin turned and strode out of the room with long, confident strides, eager to get some rest after what was a long, long day. He glanced back as he was leaving to see Palpatine set himself back at his desk. He realized that the Chancellor would likely work long into the night. Palpatine was a dedicated man. ~~* No one would argue with the fact that being a Jedi was a dangerous occupation. They were well trained for it, of course, but the fact remained; it was dangerous. And sometimes mistakes would happen and lightsabers would be lost or destroyed. It was avoided, of course – a lightsaber is like an extension of a Jedi’s body. A weapon that the Jedi depended on with their lives. Spare lightsabers were kept only for emergencies. Older Masters who stayed at the Temple, preferring to not go on missions anymore, usually built them. Building a lightsaber was always a difficult task, and for each it generally took about a month. Sometimes a Jedi did not have the time to build another after losing one, so they simply used a spare lightsaber until they had time to build their own. Obi-Wan, of course, knew exactly where the spare lightsabers were kept. He had used them himself, on occasion. The lightsaber that had been thrown to him on Geonosis had been such a lightsaber, and it had worked well enough. Though . . . He quickly left that line of thought. Being out in the Temple was a risk, a big one. But he didn’t see how to avoid it. He had promised that he would not fail Anakin again. And in order to avoid failing Anakin, he needed a lightsaber. One always needed a lightsaber when going up against a Sith Lord. It saddened him that the Jedi of this universe didn’t realize what Palpatine was either. He wondered, often, how he and the other Jedi could have been so blind to not see Palpatine for what he was. To actually believe that he was on their side. It was not only horrifying, it was humiliating. And he was certain that Palpatine had enjoyed every moment he fooled the Jedi Council, every time he undermined a Jedi mission and then gave such ‘sincere’ sympathies. It made Obi-Wan feel ill. One good thing about the Jedi Temple was that its residents didn’t bother each other. If privacy was wanted, it was granted. Obi-Wan was sure it was the same here. So he grabbed one of Xanatos' robes – leaving his own behind with a pang deep in his chest – and threw up the hood. His hands went into the opposite sleeve, and then he was the very picture of a Jedi wishing to be left alone. He kept to the side of the long halls, keeping his eyes on the rich, dark blue carpet. To his side, he could see a wall, elegantly carved pillars appearing every once in a while. Occasionally, he would glance up to make sure that he was heading in the right direction. It was on such a glance that he saw Bant Eerin. In his universe, they had been the best of friends since the crèche. While she was a Mon Calamari – a native of the ocean world by the same name, with an appearance to match – and he a human, that had never altered their relationship in the slightest. It had never mattered. He could remember, vividly, her teaching him to swim when he was three years old. Swimming came easily to her, as she was an amphibian, but Obi-Wan was, in the beginning, afraid of the water. It was she who had coaxed him in, had taught him the joy of floating free. He remembered her death quite distinctly. She had become a diplomat under the unlikely tutelage of Mace Windu, and she often went on missions. After the destruction of the Jedi Temple, which she had barely survived, she had gone into hiding with many of the other Jedi. But fear over what would happen to Jedi collaborators was her downfall – she was turned in by the very people she hid with, and Darth Vader killed her. Obi-Wan supposed it was poetic justice that the traitors who had given her location to the Sith also died by Vader’s hands. When he saw Bant Eerin, alive and well, her silver skin glowing with a pink tinge, and her large, gray eyes soulful and calm, he looked down and felt tears sting his eyes. He squeezed them shut, never varying the pace of his walk. She, too, was all right here. Alive. Free. He had not lied when he said to Anakin that he was glad things had turned out good somewhere. It didn’t lessen his guilt, but it gave him some peace. And he needed all of that he could get – otherwise, he would fear for his own mind. Bant Eerin passed by Obi-Wan without blinking, intent on her destination. Obi-Wan let out a small sigh of relief, and resisted the urge to move faster. Regardless, he found his way to the spare lightsabers soon enough. As he had suspected, they were in the same place they had been in his universe, under the training rooms, near the middle of the Temple. He quickly ducked into the small, rarely used room. He didn’t knock back his hood, but let his fingertips trail along the rows of ready, available lightsabers that lay on long panels along the wall. He reached for the Force, still instinctively shielding. He stopped, his fingers lying still on a single lightsaber. It had evidently been used in the past – it had score marks from blasters, dents and scratches from being dropped and hit against a hard surface. It was scarred. He picked it up gently, testing the weight. It was heavier than his had been, but the weight felt right anyway. He gripped both hands around the long hilt. Yes. It felt right. With a cold, determined smile, Obi-Wan left the room full of lightsabers. -----signature----- MS Word is designed by sadists with masochists in mind. - teh atty my recent Atton (KOTOR2) fic: http://boards.theforce.net/before_the_saga/b10475/30335989
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Happy_Hobbit_Padawan Registered: Feb '03	Date Posted: 2/3/04 6:24pm Subject: RE: The Water's Edge (~cowritten with Happy_Hobbit_Padawan~ {~Updated Feb. 3~} Winner of Best Coll
	Just gotta UP this right now ... ... because today's my first birth-board-day, marking one full year since I ceased to have a life and joined the JC. -----signature----- Belaé, Handmaiden of the Crest Get jiggly with it at Jello Anarchy.
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PadawanKitara Registered: Dec '01	Date Posted: 2/3/04 8:47pm Subject: RE: The Water's Edge (~cowritten with Happy_Hobbit_Padawan~ {~Updated Feb. 3~} Winner of Best Coll
	You got that right HHP. I used to laugh at anyone who was online more than 30 minutes per day. Now look at me. -----signature----- Courtier of the Royal Order of Shambling Dufi We are Dufi...Resistance is Futile! UCLA BRUINS
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