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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: 2/5/04 10:35am Subject: RE: The Water's Edge (~cowritten with Happy_Hobbit_Padawan~ {~Updated Feb. 3~} Winner of Best Coll
	HHP: LOL! My two year anniversary will be sometime in June, I think. I'll have to check. PK: Aye, well, that was me, too. -----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: 2/7/04 1:41pm Subject: RE: The Water's Edge (~cowritten with Happy_Hobbit_Padawan~ {~Updated Feb. 3~} Winner of Best Coll
	Xanatos was beyond frantic in the beginning. He had been virtually hysterical. Obi-Wan was gone. Not out for a walk, not hiding under the bed, not in Anakin’s quarters – gone. He could be anywhere at this point, even off world. Xanatos had woken up on the couch, disoriented at first. Then he remembered, and went to check on Obi-Wan, who should have been sleeping peacefully in Xanatos’ bed. And of course, he wasn’t. For the next several minutes, Xanatos had frantically searched his apartment, as if he would suddenly find the undead Jedi under a pillow cushion. No such luck, of course. After finally managing to calm down somewhat, he took a quick shower and got dressed. The Jedi Council hadn’t called him. Rumors weren’t going wild. He could only conclude that wherever Obi-Wan was, the Jedi still did not know he existed. Feeling a little better, he then proceeded to walk along the halls of the Jedi Temple, searching for some faint ghost of Obi-Wan’s presence. Some of the other Jedi walking the halls looked at him oddly, which was only reasonable. Xanatos was keeping close to the walls, figuring that Obi-Wan would have done the same. He would stop occasionally and search with the Force for a whiff of the Jedi’s presence, closing his eyes and focusing. So far, nothing. In fact, searching the halls was rather pointless. Xanatos had no idea why Obi-Wan had left, or where he was. His motivations were a total mystery to Xanatos. Every time Xanatos thought he had a hold on Obi-Wan’s mind – had some clue as to why he acted the way he did – the damaged Jedi would prove his assumption wrong. All he really knew was that Obi-Wan felt guilty about something, had feared and hated Anakin, and was extremely dangerous. Guilt. What does one do when feeling guilty? Try to not feel guilty. Well, how does one accomplish that? By atoning for whatever was done wrong. By fixing the error. By undoing the mistake. Oh, Force. And just what was Obi-Wan going to try to prevent? He had no idea. He had no way of knowing. But he had a feeling it was going to turn into a messy situation. “Xanatos!” The dark-haired Jedi nearly whirled, but managed to turn sedately. In the next moment, he was glad he did so. Anakin and Chancellor Palpatine stood side by side about ten meters away, Anakin dressed formally in his dark brown robes, and Palpatine dressed in a much more elaborate and richly colored robe. His white hair was brushed back, and he smiled at Xanatos. Giving Palpatine a small smile and Anakin a not-right-now look, he came over to the two men. He stepped by Anakin, and bowed to the Supreme Chancellor. Palpatine nodded a greeting. “Knight.” “Chancellor,” Xanatos murmured in response. He shot Anakin a half-frantic look, and received a baffled but worried look in return. “I’ve heard much about you from Anakin, Master Xanatos,” Palpatine said warmly. He said everything warmly and sincerely, Xanatos noticed. Sometimes he was glad Palpatine wasn’t a Jedi. He just never did like the man. “Complimentary, I hope,” Xanatos said, while wishing the man would shut up and leave already. What was he doing here anyway? He shot Anakin a dark look and hoped Obi-Wan wasn’t around. He couldn’t very well drag the lunatic back to his quarters while the Chancellor watched. “Of course,” Palpatine said with a smile, a twinge of genuine amusement in his eyes. Anakin cut in smoothly. “Chancellor Palpatine talked to me last night, remember Xanatos?” Xanatos just looked at him, not bothering to completely disguise his irritated look. Sometimes that boy had abominable instincts. Didn’t he realize Xanatos couldn’t deal with Bantha poodoo politics right now? Anakin hurried on. “He’s going to discuss Reglai 6 with the Council today,” he explained. “I was just taking him to the Council’s chamber.” The older Jedi looked around. They were in a more deserted area of the Temple. And this certainly wasn’t the fastest way to the Jedi Council chambers. The Padawan noticed. “I was showing him some of our training rooms beforehand,” he added. “He told me he was curious.” Palpatine nodded and gave a look of concern. “I certainly hope Padawan Skywalker is not in trouble for allowing me to visit some other areas of your Temple, Master Xanatos.” “No, of course not,” Xanatos hastily assured him. “I just . . . have an errand to run. If you would excuse me?” “What kind of errand?” A smooth, calm voice. Extremely familiar. Obi-Wan. Xanatos’ head turned to face that voice of its own volition. Obi-Wan stood less than a meter away, to the side of the Jedi and the Chancellor. He hadn’t noticed him moving out of the corner of his eye. Fortunately, Obi-Wan seemed calm enough. He wore one of Xanatos’ robes, his hands in his sleeves and the hood thrown back. His hair was still wildly long, but appeared to have been brushed back. He looked remarkably sane, and Xanatos felt himself relax a bit. Obi-Wan stepped closer, and turned to Palpatine. “Chancellor,” he greeted calmly, bowing his head slightly. Then his hands fell from the sleeves they were in, and a lightsaber appeared in his right hand. Without hesitating an instant, he ignited the lightsaber, stepped forward and swung down towards Palpatine’s neck, all in one smooth, practiced movement. Also without hesitating, Xanatos’ also moved. Three steps forward and his body crashed into Obi-Wan. A flying kick hit Obi-Wan’s wrist, but the Jedi didn’t lose his grip on the weapon. When Obi-Wan hit the floor, Xanatos used all of his strength and muscle to keep the wildly struggling man down and the dark green lightsaber away from his body. In perfect instinct or a prodding from the Force, Anakin also acted. But he didn’t act the way one would think. He stepped forward, knelt by Obi-Wan and Xanatos, and looked into Obi-Wan’s wide, blue eyes. He held his neck out, near the blade of the lightsaber. Xanatos looked on in horror. Obi-Wan let go of the lightsaber. It fell to the floor with a dull thunk, and Anakin swatted it away with his hand. Xanatos didn’t pause in his attempts to subdue the Jedi – Obi-Wan, in fact, was going to kick Xanatos off at any moment and Xanatos knew it. He was no real match for a rested Obi-Wan. “Obi-Wan!” Anakin said, staring into Obi-Wan’s eyes. “Stop.” Xanatos also spoke. “I don’t know why you tried that, but I think you misunderstand something,” he said, voice forcibly kept even and calm. Obi-Wan didn’t relax, but he did cease struggling temporarily. “You don’t understand,” he whispered. His kept his eyes on Anakin, but Xanatos could see the haunted sorrow in them regardless. “Explain it to me,” Anakin said gently. His voice was soft, comforting. For that instant, Xanatos didn’t see the prankster, rebellious Padawan that Anakin so often was, but a gentle and kind man who would soon be a Jedi Knight. Obi-Wan glanced over Anakin’s shoulder to stare at Palpatine, whose face had drained of color. His hands shook, but otherwise he didn’t move or speak. When Palpatine stayed still, very still, Obi-Wan slowly relaxed and turned his head back to Anakin. “He’s a Sith,” Obi-Wan said simply. Anakin’s eyes widened, and he hesitated. “No, Obi-Wan, he’s not. He was a Sith in your universe, but not here.” Obi-Wan shook his head mutely, tears filling his eyes. “Here, Palpatine almost came to the Jedi Temple, but his parents wouldn’t let him go. He was nearly a Jedi, and all his life he has been friends with the Jedi who originally found him. He’s not a Sith, Obi-Wan. It’s all right.” He looked at the Jedi from another universe intently, and added, “I’m very sure of this, Obi-Wan.” Obi-Wan closed his eyes, then nodded. Anakin licked his lips, then spoke again, with much less surety. Xanatos said nothing, merely let him continue. He could feel that this was an important moment, and that he should be silent. The Force seemed to almost have been waiting for this moment. “You looked at me, before you tried to kill the Chancellor.” “Yes,” Obi-Wan whispered. “You knew me, didn’t you?” Another very soft, “Yes.” “I was important to you.” Obi-Wan smiled, but there was no happiness in it. Just regret and sadness. His body relaxed further under Xanatos. “He was my apprentice.” “And . . . the Sith hurt him?” Anakin guessed quietly. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and let out his breath in a harsh pant. “He’s dead now. Dead. Nothing else. Gone,” he added vehemently. He shook his head, tears finally falling. Then he abruptly moved, and threw Xanatos off of him with apparent ease. Xanatos tensed, regaining his footing and he saw Anakin do the same. But Obi-Wan didn’t attempt to attack the Chancellor again. He sat up and pulled his knees up. Anakin approached him warily, but with softness and a desire to help in his eyes. He crept up to Obi-Wan and put an arm around his shoulders. “It’s okay, really. You just wanted to protect me, right? But its okay, Obi-Wan – it's safe here.” Obi-Wan nodded. Anakin held him closer, and kept speaking, trying to keep the dangerous Jedi calm. Keeping him under control this way was the best method of doing it – Xanatos doubted that even together they would have been able to keep Obi-Wan from killing Palpatine. And killing Palpatine would have left . . . a mess. One that even Yoda wouldn’t have been able to fix. It would have been a mistake – but not a mistake that could be easily let go. Xanatos shivered at how easily this could have gone wrong. Shaking his head, he rose to his feet carefully, testing his ribs. They were probably cracked, but not broken. He looked at Palpatine, who still stood mutely, pale and somewhat frightened. He walked over to the Chancellor, and gave him a wan smile, wondering how he was going to do this. “We have to talk.” ~~~~* Not good, not good, Xanatos thought hurriedly to himself, quickly ushering the Supreme Chancellor down the hall and away from the other two. Hopefully, Anakin would be able to handle the . . . well, it wasn’t fair to call him a lunatic, now that they had some sense of what had happened to him. Hopefully Anakin would be able to get Obi-Wan back to Xanatos’ quarters without a problem. Xanatos, though, had a larger problem to handle. The politician, thankfully enough, had been in too much shock to make a fuss when Obi-Wan had appeared and the resulting events, and Xanatos had to hope that he would remain so for a good while – long enough for him to explain, at any rate, and talk Palpatine into keeping quiet about it. Though he wasn’t exactly sure how he was going to accomplish that. Oh, Force, be with me now . . . he prayed silently, nearly shoving the older man towards his door. Luckily, no one was in the area to see the Council’s pet Knight kidnapping the Supreme Chancellor . . . but stranger things had happened. One of them was sitting in the hall with a Padawan at the moment. Something was bothering him about that. There was something distinctly wrong about what he had just seen and heard, something that didn’t fit together with the rest of the picture exactly right. But try as he might, Xanatos couldn’t figure out what it was – it kept dodging away just as he tried to grasp it, hiding in plain sight. It was something to do with Anakin, he could just feel it. There’s something . . . Palpatine seemed to have regained some measure of dignity by the time Xanatos smacked the door control, though his eyes were still wide with shock and no small amount of fright. The Chancellor, dressed in the royal blue of his station, looked a decidedly pasty white as he leaned against the wall for support. He brought a shaky hand up to his hair, absently smoothing it back in a gesture of nervousness. “Master Jedi,” he started, his voice nonetheless completely unaffected by whatever emotions he might be feeling, a talent no doubt developed from his decades of public speaking. “I assure you that your . . . your . . . that the man in the hallway was acting in violation of several ordinances of Republic law and that he will be – ” “Chancellor,” Xanatos broke in quickly, carefully trying to gauge the man’s emotions. Dammit, but the Jedi had done a good job teaching him how to shield when he was younger – nothing leaked out of the man, not the slightest hint of fear or surprise. And his reverting to politician-speak wasn’t helping. He would have to be careful, here. “Chancellor, meaning no disrespect, but I don’t think you have a full understanding of what is going on.” Palpatine stared at him incredulously for a moment – and let out a short bark of laughter. The Chancellor’s face was a waxy white once more, save for two spots of color on his cheeks – though Xanatos couldn’t quite decide if that was from fear or rage. “A full understanding of what is going on?” he repeated, his voice climbing several octaves and a few decibels along the way. “Master Jedi, I am more than old enough, I assure you, to remember exactly what kind of a person Obi-Wan Kenobi was in his heyday. Do you know how many Jedi that man has killed? Do you remember?” “He thought you were a Sith,” Xanatos interjected. He wasn’t the sort of person to be easily intimidated, but the Chancellor had managed to work himself into a spitting rage. “A Sith!” Palpatine sputtered. “How could he think that? Where did he get the gall to accuse me of being a Sith after all he’s done? He’s a murderer! A Jedi-killer, even more! You, of all Jedi, should be perfectly aware of what that man is!” “I would think that I knew that, Chancellor,” Xanatos snapped back, his ire towards the politician rising despite himself. Force-dammit, but he hated politicians, especially those who thought they knew more than they did. Though perhaps in this case – he quickly cut off that line of thought. “Have you forgotten that that particular Kenobi is over ten-years dead?” he said, trying to make the Chancellor think rather than react. “Accounts of death can be exaggerated,” the Chancellor sniffed imperiously. “It wouldn’t be the first time.” Xanatos closed his eyes with a sigh, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Chancellor . . . he died at my blade, remember?” he reminded him softly. “I think I know when someone’s dead.” “You evidently didn’t do a very good job with it,” Palpatine retorted sharply. “He seemed very alive a few moments ago, especially for a man who’s been dead for over a decade.” “Trust me, Chancellor,” Xanatos assured with a grim smile, “when I killed him I was in a state of mind where anything less than ‘a very good job with it’ wouldn’t have been nearly enough.” That statement was true in its own way, Xanatos supposed. From the vaunted ‘certain point of view’ – though Force knew that he hadn’t been feeling very forgiving when he’d met with his own Kenobi that one final time. Because even Jedi could be pushed past their limits. Because some things . . . Some things are unforgivable. Who had said that to him? Qui-Gon? He couldn’t remember. Palpatine seemed a bit disconcerted by his remark, Xanatos noted with wry amusement as the man again ran a hand through his already ruffled white hair. Force knew that the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic rarely had to discuss the technicalities of killings and whether or not one could tell if they were really dead. The man had never held a lightsaber in his life, so far as Xanatos knew, even during his brief training at the Temple, to give him some basic control of his abilities. “If he was already dead,” Palpatine hesitantly started after a long pause. “If, mind you,” he added, probably loathe to admit a point to the other man. Politicians were rarely ever wanting to concede anything. One of those odd little diplomatic quirks, Xanatos thought absently. “If he was already dead,” the Chancellor continued, “how do you explain the man who tried to kill me, who coincidentally looked exactly like a certain Obi-Wan Kenobi, except for a hardly-disguising beard? A clone? A human replica droid? A vengeful spirit, perhaps? Or some ‘Jedi thing’ that I wouldn’t understand?” Xanatos smiled slightly despite himself. If Palpatine was willing to admit that there was something wrong, that was the first step, wasn’t it? “Why don’t we sit down to talk about it?” he suggested, waving towards the table and chairs. A kitchen was rather informal for a meeting with the Supreme Chancellor, but it would have to do. “It’s a rather long story, all told, and I wouldn’t want your feet to get tired before your meeting with the Council . . .” = = = = = By the time Xanatos finished his story, starting from his diplomatic mission to the striking workers and ending with the hallway encounter, Anakin and Obi-Wan had joined them, the former occasionally whispering words of comfort to the other, as Obi-Wan would tense at certain points of the story, reacting to whatever memories it brought up. Palpatine himself seemed to be too caught up in the story to notice anything else, interjecting with a few interested questions here and there and an occasional monosyllable. The two of them – Anakin and Obi-Wan, who seemed strangely right together – stood along the wall, behind the Chancellor and out of his sight, as Xanatos finished the story. Xanatos nodded at him when he came in, but Palpatine had not noticed the Padawan and his companion’s quiet entrance. Obi-Wan, for his part, seemed to have taken the unsuccessful assassination attempt and the Chancellor’s innocence in this galaxy in stride, Anakin reflected as he listened to Xanatos tell his story. The man had listened quietly to Anakin’s assertions that they could trust the Chancellor, mutely accepting his word – or trying to at least. Anakin, for one, had noticed his flinch when he saw the politician in the room, but Obi-Wan seemed to be acting remarkably . . . well, remarkably normal, which Anakin took to be a good sign. Of course, he seemed pretty normal just before he tried to slice the Chancellor’s head off with a lightsaber, too, a little voice in his brain noted. Shut up, you. “So you think he’s the equivalent of our own Kenobi from an alternate timeline?” Palpatine asked once the Knight had finished his tale. “But this time a good guy instead?” “Depending on how you define good,” Obi-Wan commented with an odd half-bitter smile, exciting a small yelp of surprise as the Chancellor finally realized his presence. “Maybe just ‘not bad’,” he suggested with a forced, more friendly smile. Palpatine had drawn back from the man when he’d heard him – though unconsciously or not Anakin didn’t know – and Anakin could easily sense Obi-Wan’s muscles tightening as he stared full upon the Chancellor’s face again. He quickly reached out to put a hand on the other’s shoulder, attempting to pacify but ready to hold back if need be. “Steady,” he murmured softly. Did Obi-Wan not consider himself a good Jedi, but not a bad person? Yet another interesting piece of the puzzle that was Obi-Wan. Xanatos managed a distinctly forced looking smile at Obi-Wan’s comment. “A not-all-that-bad guy, then,” he amended, shooting Anakin a questioning glance. “But certainly not as bad as our own Kenobi.” “I . . . I see,” Palpatine finally answered, jerking his eyes away from Obi-Wan to look at Xanatos again. The Chancellor’s normally impeccable hair was disheveled from his absently nervous gestures, and even as Anakin watched he ran a frustrated hand through again. “And in your . . . in your galaxy I was a Sith, then?” he asked Obi-Wan, turning again to look. “Yes,” Obi-Wan answered neutrally, eyes unfocused – or focused on something else, perhaps. “Your counterpart conned a young Queen into getting him into the office of Supreme Chancellor and used his emergency powers to declare himself Emperor of my galaxy. Jedi were outlawed and are hunted down like animals by . . . by his servants.” Obi-Wan seemed strangely calm as he said this, Anakin reflected, even as his eyes widened in surprise to even that meager portion of Obi-Wan’s story. Though it was inconceivable that the Jedi would ever be thought of anything less than benevolent protectors in this galaxy, Obi-Wan had told it so matter-of-factly that his listeners had little choice but to take it as fact. That dead sounding recitation was very convincing. He didn’t notice the man’s hesitance to name the Emperor’s servants. “But surely you know now that I’m not the man you thought I was?” Palpatine pressed. A moment of silence before Obi-Wan hesitantly answered. “From what Anakin told me,” he started, “it doesn’t seem like you’re . . . like you’re a Sith. But, then again,” he added with a sad smile, suspicion lingering in his eyes, “you might just be a better actor than mine was.” Palpatine just nodded mutely, appearing to consider the man’s words as the others waited in tense silence. “I see,” he finally commented yet again. “I see.” Another moment of tense silence. Obi-Wan seemed to be strained to a breaking point and Xanatos only slightly better. For Obi-Wan, though, Anakin doubted that he could even begin to imagine the amount of resentment and fury the undead lunatic had invested into this man with the Chancellor’s face . . . only to find that the two were wholly different. And the miracle was that he was managing to make conversation with him now, with only a Padawan’s word to back him up. He trusts me, Anakin realized uneasily. It wasn’t a reassuring revelation. In fact, it made him feel – responsible. He trusts me enough to believe me about this, of all things . . . “You understand, of course,” Palpatine began, looking sorrowfully at Xanatos, “that I’ll be obliged to tell the Council about this matter when I see them this morning.” The Knight’s eyes widened in surprise and fear. Even now that Obi-Wan seemed more than well-equipped to handle himself, Anakin could easily see that Xanatos was still feeling protective of the man. Whatever the man himself thought, Xanatos liked to look after pathetic creatures as much as his Master did. It was something Qui-Gon had given to all his Padawans. Almost all. “The Council?” he sputtered. Palpatine smiled thinly. “Yes, the Council,” he affirmed. “You might not think too highly of politicians, Knight Xanatos, but I keep my promises and in these matters . . .” He raised his hands, open-palmed, in a gesture of helplessness. “There’s no choice in the matter,” he sighed. “It would be a betrayal of my office if I didn’t.” “But Chancellor Palpatine!” Anakin protested, speaking aloud for the first time in their conversation. Palpatine jerked his head around in surprise, just noticing again that the Padawan was present. “The Council is too close to Qui-Gon to make a rational decision, can’t you see that?” he begged. “At least wait until Master Yoda gets back, and we can decide what to do from there.” “I can’t do th – ” “Please, Ch – I mean, Palpatine?” Anakin pleaded, nearly begging as he tried to put his crystal-blue eyes to work as he had as a toddler. “Please?” The Chancellor, for some reason, had decided that he was going to mentor Anakin. And even if Anakin still felt uncomfortable – or a little awed – he knew Palpatine considered him a good friend. The Chancellor opened his mouth to answer, frowning in disapproval – and shut it again. He sighed peevishly. “Anakin, you know that you’re the only person in the galaxy that can do that to me, don’t you?” he snapped irritably. Anakin had never asked him anything of his magnitude before. “And you realize that you’re asking me to indirectly break a few of my vows of office? And that I have a very, very bad feeling about this?” “I know,” Anakin replied with a relieved smile. “And I’m eternally grateful for it.” “Only until the next time you need something from me,” Palpatine retorted. He sighed, again throwing up his hands helplessly and glancing at the ceiling for guidance. “Why did it have to be him?” he asked no one in particular. “Thank you, Palpatine,” Anakin said, giving the man a dazzling grin. “Don’t mention it,” Palpatine ordered. “Literally, don’t mention it,” he added tiredly. “Yes, sir.” Papatine sighed again, putting a hand up to his head again, but this time catching himself before he could muss his hair up even more. “I supposed you’ll be taking me to Council chambers, then?” he asked with a tired smile. “Of course . . . that is if Xanatos doesn’t want to?” Anakin added, turning to the other man. But Xanatos was staring back and forth between Obi-Wan and Anakin with a dawning expression of realization lighting up his face . . . “No thank you, Anakin,” he managed with a wave of his hand. “I . . . I think I’ll just stay here.” = = = = = -----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: 2/7/04 5:56pm Subject: RE: The Water's Edge (~cowritten with Happy_Hobbit_Padawan~ {~UPDATED Feb. 7~} Winner of Best Coll
	I'm still trying to decide if I should trust Palpy in this realm. -----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: 2/7/04 9:18pm Subject: RE: The Water's Edge (~cowritten with Happy_Hobbit_Padawan~ {~UPDATED Feb. 7~} Winner of Best Coll
	dashes in Late, but here, really. “Lemme ‘lone, Mastr ‘oda” the Padawan muttered sleepily, shifting slightly. grins I can actually see Anakin saying that. 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. I really like this. It's something practical that I'd never given any thought to, and which made me think somewhat differently. I love it when a story does that. Obi-Wan didn’t relax, but he did cease struggling temporarily. “You don’t understand,” he whispered. His kept his eyes on Anakin, but Xanatos could see the haunted sorrow in them regardless. “Explain it to me,” Anakin said gently. His voice was soft, comforting. For that instant, Xanatos didn’t see the prankster, rebellious Padawan that Anakin so often was, but a gentle and kind man who would soon be a Jedi Knight. Very nice! Poignantly done. Of course, he seemed pretty normal just before he tried to slice the Chancellor’s head off with a lightsaber, too, a little voice in his brain noted. Shut up, you. giggles And I agree with PadawanKitara. I haven't decided whether Palpatine is trustworthy either. [face_suspicious] -----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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Opal Registered: Nov '03	Date Posted: 2/8/04 8:07am Subject: RE: The Water's Edge (~cowritten with Happy_Hobbit_Padawan~ {~UPDATED Feb. 7~} Winner of Best Coll
	Just letting you know that I'm still with you two on this rewrite.
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leia_naberrie Registered: Sep '02	Date Posted: 2/9/04 1:53am Subject: RE: The Water's Edge (~cowritten with Happy_Hobbit_Padawan~ {~UPDATED Feb. 7~} Winner of Best Coll
	Oh, so you finally moved it here? I hope this is not just an excuse to shirk out of updating... It's probably a good idea... I just checked the old thread and realized that I had fallen behind on posts. Can't review here for obvious reasons but the last installment was great - good job, guys - you thickened the plot nicely and I'm not even going to try and guess how all this is going to resolve itself. By the way, CONGRATULATIONS on [both] your awards and nominations at the Winter Awards and special kudos for snagging a well-merited award for this story. And now that I've licked your boots, what about that update..? -----signature----- http://io9.com/5111680/avatar-casting-makes-fans-see-white Upset about the casting for the Last Airbender movies? Write to Paramount about it. http://aang-aint-white.livejournal.com/1007.html
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kayladie97 Registered: Jun '03	Date Posted: 2/9/04 3:12pm Subject: RE: The Water's Edge (~cowritten with Happy_Hobbit_Padawan~ {~UPDATED Feb. 7~} Winner of Best Coll
	I liked Obi-Wan's thoughts as he steals through the temple to steal a lightsaber. (What does he plan to do with that, I wonder? ) The way he feels such pain as he sees Bant and yet doesn't show it in his gait at all. Hurting, but strong, my favorite kind of hero! I can picture Xanatos frantically searching the apartment for several minutes for Obi-Wan, all the time probably denying to himself the fact that the undead lunatic slipped away from him. His hair was still wildly long, but appeared to have been brushed back. He looked remarkably sane, and Xanatos felt himself relax a bit. Eh, you're probably relaxing a bit too soon, Xanatos! But I guess he doesn't know that Obi-Wan has a lightsaber... Then his hands fell from the sleeves they were in, and a lightsaber appeared in his right hand. Without hesitating an instant, he ignited the lightsaber, stepped forward and swung down towards Palpatine’s neck, all in one smooth, practiced movement. But he does now!! I loved the quick action of this scene...no wasted movements on the Jedi's parts and no wasted words on your part. Great! And I loved Anakin's bit. We all get a glimpse of the Jedi he's going to become in this universe. He’s not a Sith, Obi-Wan. It’s all right.” He looked at the Jedi from another universe intently, and added, “I’m very sure of this, Obi-Wan.” Huh, why am I not as sure of that as Anakin is? Still don't trust Palpy, no matter what universe he's in. I liked the way Anakin was able to calm Obi-Wan, probably no one else would have been able to do that. Oh, the could-have-beens that poor Obi must be feeling! And killing Palpatine would have left . . . a mess. One that even Yoda wouldn’t have been able to fix. It would have been a mistake – but not a mistake that could be easily let go. Somehow, Xanatos is not as upset as one would think he is at the prospect of Palpy getting whacked, is he? Wonder if that's Jedi intuition on his part along with his general dislike of politicians? “Trust me, Chancellor,” Xanatos assured with a grim smile, “when I killed him I was in a state of mind where anything less than ‘a very good job with it’ wouldn’t have been nearly enough.” Ooh, I think Palpatine just got a little reminder on how dangerous certain Jedi could be if pushed too far. Of course, he seemed pretty normal just before he tried to slice the Chancellor’s head off with a lightsaber, too, a little voice in his brain noted. Shut up, you. Is that Anakin or Xanatos thinking? Either way, it's too funny! “Anakin, you know that you’re the only person in the galaxy that can do that to me, don’t you?” he snapped irritably. Anakin had never asked him anything of his magnitude before. “And you realize that you’re asking me to indirectly break a few of my vows of office? And that I have a very, very bad feeling about this?” Anakin seems to have that effect on a lot of people doesn't he? And somehow, it's just wrong hearing Palpatine say one of our favorite lines. This is getting SO good! I really, really, really, really, really, really can't wait for more!! -----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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obaona Registered: Jun '02	Date Posted: 2/10/04 4:33am Subject: RE: The Water's Edge (~cowritten with Happy_Hobbit_Padawan~ {~UPDATED Feb. 7~} Winner of Best Coll
	PadawanKitara: Still? Gabri: No problem, dearest. Elli always wrote Anakin well. I think she wrote him better than Xanatos. The lightsaber thing is a culmination of several ideas already present in the EU. I believe during the Clone Wars Jedi made extra lightsabers, and that's also when they developed the technique to make a blade in two days - something they don't have in Xan's universe, iirc. [/random_facts] I'm not saying anything on the subject of Palpatine, since this is your first read-through. But I'm glad you're here and enjoying! huggies, dearest! Opal: Thank you! Thanks to this repost, HHP and I feel like we're under less pressure, and are fooling around more. leia_naberrie: No, of course it's not! That's merely a side benefit. Classic was losing readership - people just forgot to stop by, I think. Hence, the moving here. And thank you. HHP and I decided, pretty much, how to end it. And may I say, HHP is awfully good at actually getting the story heading in the correct direction. And thank you again! We're pleased to have won. As for an update, I'll be posting again soon - and HHP and I are working on new, unposted stuff. kayladie97: Thank you. I enjoyed writing that part. Hurting, but strong - aye, that describes Obi-Wan perfectly. Our poor little tortured hero . . . [face_innocent] I just got this ridiculous image of Xanatos being in denial and trying to find Obi-Wan under pillows, and I had to write it. Don't ask me why. And you're right, Xanatos had no way of knowing Obi-Wan was armed - save, of course, for the simple fact of Murhpy's Law, which Xanatos foolishly did not take into account. Thank you. I always try to be ever more economical in fight scenes - it just works better. I like this Anakin a lot. Silly thing to say, I know, but it's true. Maybe I'll do a lightside Ani AU one day. I like writing him that way. I think by that point Obi-Wan had clearly differentiated between Anakin and his Anakin in his mind, otherwise he wouldn't have felt so protective. LOL, I didn't even think about Xanatos' lack of concern. But it's true enough he doesn't care for politicans. Don't ever, ever push Jedi. Especially undeed lunatic ones. It was Xanatos thinking that, as I recall - I think that scene was from his POV. Blame Elli for the wrongness. I take no responsibility. Thank you! hugs -----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: 2/10/04 9:22pm Subject: RE: The Water's Edge (~cowritten with Happy_Hobbit_Padawan~ {~UPDATED Feb. 7~} Winner of Best Coll
	This will be the longest post to date. It was also the longest in the other thread - the beginning of this, where it's Elli writing, was originally another post. The rest is mine, and this marks where Elli had to leave the story. After this there's more of my writing until HHP appears, about sixty pages later. This isn't split up into smaller chunks for the simple fact that I think it helps to read it all at once. It's really a turning part in the story, as you will see. Hope y'all enjoy. ~~* When Anakin and the Chancellor had left, leaving Xanatos and Obi-Wan alone in the room again, Obi-Wan was finally able to let his muscles relax. Being in the same room as Palpatine – any Palpatine – was . . . was, well, an extremely tense situation. In fact, even knowing that the man was walking around freely had his adrenaline charging. It took a great deal of his shattered Jedi calm to restrain the urge to go and kill the man as he had been intending not long before. Though he believed Anakin – wanted to believe, forced himself to believe – there was only so much he could do to counter his ingrained loathing of the man. “Water?” Xanatos offered suddenly, perfectly polite. Obi-Wan looked up, startled. “No, but thank you,” he managed. Xanatos nodded once before getting up to get himself a glass from the kitchen. His hand, Obi-Wan noted, was shaking and spilling a fair amount of the liquid as he tried to fill the cup. The dark-haired Knight took a long gulp before setting the glass back down and rejoining Obi-Wan. His eyes had a distant look, as if he were pondering some abstract subject, but his expression had a look of faint surprise. Silence for a few moments, each lost in thought. Then – “He turned, didn’t he?” Xanatos finally blurted out, meeting Obi-Wan’s eyes. The Knight’s gaze was wide-eyed and shocked, an astounding change from the calm he usually portrayed. “Your Padawan? Anakin? He turned, didn’t he?” Obi-Wan, for his part, was equally surprised, faint, unwanted memories stirring at the other Knight’s words – and he pushed them down, fiercely. “How – I mean . . . why do you ask?” he said, nearly tripping over his own words in confusion over what to say. Xanatos smiled a little guiltily. “It just didn’t make sense,” he told him with a sheepish grin. “I was thinking about it, but didn’t realize what it was even though it was dancing right in front of me. Hiding in plain sight – ” like the Sith – “ – and I finally asked myself why you’d want to kill your own Padawan, if you still loved him enough to spare his life when he held his neck between your saber and the Chancellor’s – a Sith’s, from your point of view - throat. It was the only thing that made sense.” Xanatos looked at the other man searchingly, not exactly seeking confirmation, but something more elusive. Of course it was, Obi-Wan realized vaguely, not looking at the other as the restless memories again started to stir – happier times, times when his own Anakin had been as wide-eyed and innocent as this one, when their problems seemed so pale in comparison to his galaxy’s future . . . “You don’t have to answer, of course,” Xanatos interjected gently, shaking him from the once happy memories, that only gave a distant sense of grief anymore. “I just can’t imagine Anakin ever – ” “You’re right, though,” Obi-Wan interrupted, looking down for a moment, trying to compose himself enough to meet Xanatos’ too kind gaze. “But . . . I’d rather tell you another time.” Another time, after the memories can rest in peace without any interruption from an innocent, blue-eyed gaze. He trusted this Anakin. He saw what his own Anakin had once been – and while it was painful, he didn’t want to miss it either. “Of course,” Xanatos agreed softly, nodding his head. “I’m sorry I brought it up, it just seemed so strange for me to think of Anakin – Anakin –” “It was hard for me, too,” he said softly. Still is. Silence again as the two men thought about each other’s answers and Obi-Wan found himself wondering, again, why his Anakin had become what he had become . . . and, for the first time in a long time, if there was anything he could do to reverse the process. Surely not all of that innocence – that goodness – was lost? “Can I ask you something?” Obi-Wan queried suddenly. “Hmm?” “Why is Palpatine Chancellor here?” Xanatos blinked at him, frowning slightly at what he undoubtedly thought was leading to another discussion on the likelihood of this Palpatine being a Sith. “Didn’t Anakin tell you? He was elected, the normal way . . . mostly because the other option was far worse,” he added, sighing. “Who was the other option?” Obi-Wan asked, unable to imagine a Chancellor worse than his own Palpatine; though this Palpatine probably deserved the benefit of the doubt, Obi-Wan couldn’t entirely get rid of that feeling yet. “Binks,” Xanatos grunted, hoisting himself up from the chair. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go grab something for us to –” “Binks? Jar-Jar Binks?” Obi-Wan asked in horror. “Please tell me you’re not serious!” Xanatos turned again, looking at him strangely. “Of course I’m serious. He has savvy, sly political brain under that green skin and Gungan syntax, you know.” “My Jar-Jar –” “Oh, did you have a Jar-Jar Binks in your galaxy, too?” Xanatos asked in mild amusement. “Well, don’t tell me about him. Just about everything in your galaxy seems about ten times worse than they are here, so I really don’t want to picture that Gungan . . . now I’ll get us some food, shall I?” ~~* The night was very silent. The inhabitants of the Jedi Temple lay down in their beds, or cocoons, respectively, and their minds were silenced by the calm of sleep. The very air became hushed, and that breath of silence echoed throughout the long, graceful halls. For Obi-Wan and Xanatos, it was peaceful. Anakin had left a few hours before. He lived alone in his Padawan quarters, but nevertheless the Jedi Council would often check up on him in Yoda’s absence, and having him sleeping over at Xanatos’ home would arouse too much suspicion, so Anakin left as night fell, with a promise to return. He had taken Palpatine to his Council meeting hours earlier. It would seem that the politician's face held him in good stead – the Council didn’t come to Xanatos’ door. Together, Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Xanatos had eaten a small, simple meal. They sat at Xanatos’ small table, which was jammed into the corner of the kitchen. It was slightly cramped, with three men sitting about it. Xanatos and Anakin bantered, with Obi-Wan mostly silent, apparently content to listen. No one spoke of anything important. And no one said anything at the few silent tears that dropped from Obi-Wan’s sad yet serene blue eyes. They allowed their silence – and the beauty of their acceptance – speak for itself. It spoke well. Xanatos eventually decided to sleep on the couch. If Qui-Gon dropped by, it would be difficult to explain why he was sleeping there, but it would probably be more difficult to explain Qui-Gon's once-dead apprentice lying there instead. Uncertainly, Obi-Wan took the bed. Xanatos got him heavy blankets. It wasn’t particularly cold, but the heavy comforting weight would be familiar, as it would be to any child wrapped up securely. Obi-Wan smiled at Xanatos sleepily. Everything he did was still hesitant, uncertain – except when he was trying to kill someone, apparently. He knew his duty as a Jedi well – it seemed to Xanatos – but apparently dealing with any kind of emotion was very different from that. Gently, he tried to nudge Obi-Wan into a full sleep. Obi-Wan blinked at him, his eyes wary, but said nothing. Xanatos smiled faintly, wryly. “See you in the morning.” “Good night,” Obi-Wan replied, relaxing his mental shields and allowing Xanatos’ touch to give him sleep he desperately needed. He was already beginning to fall into sleep. One would think that after such an experience as Obi-Wan had had he would be wide-awake, but Xanatos rather suspected that it was exhaustion that overtook Obi-Wan, and the man was also smart enough to take sleep when he could. With a smile and a nod, Xanatos left for the couch. He left the door open. It didn’t take him long to find another blanket, and he kicked off his boots and settled down on his side on the couch. He had slept in worse places. And in more dangerous places. He hoped Obi-Wan slept through the night. He knew the Jedi tended to have nightmares, even if they didn’t always wake from them. ~~* It was night. The time one generally slept. Or meditated. Or stayed quiet. One of those, for the sake of those that could actually sleep, at any rate. Qui-Gon lay in his bed, in his large apartment. The bed was a longer one, an easy fit for his large body. There was an advantage to having so many species in the Order – besides the obvious advantages of having so many varied, unique individuals with different perspectives – and that was all sizes of beds. The neutrally colored sheets and blankets weren’t bad, either – they were amazingly soft, if bland in appearance. He closed his eyes resolutely, even though there was no difference between that and having his eyes open, when his window was shut and all the lights turned off. He stretched out with the Force, trying to seek calm – and therefore sleep – that way. The strong Living Force in the surrounding gardens often calmed him. Qui-Gon cherished the near-jungle of the Temple gardens. The Temple was surrounded by them, enfolded in life. At this time of year – early spring – it was especially so, with the first real growth of the year for many of the summer plants. Of course, some of the plants did bloom in winter, but the majority of them did not. As a result, this time of year on Coruscant always seemed special to him. All the joy he would normally feel at the surge of the Living Force was doubled by his reunion with Xanatos. His former apprentice was clearly now a Knight in his own right, perhaps even ready to take an apprentice of his own. He remembered, sadly, how they had last parted, five years ago, at Kenobi’s death. Death. What a simple way of putting it. His apprentice, Obi-Wan, had turned to the dark. Qui-Gon no longer shied away from that reality. It had happened, no matter the reasons for it or the consequences of it. He had tried to deny, in the beginning, the gradual signs that Obi-Wan was falling to the darkness, succumbing to its seductive call. The bursts of anger, he had explained away by simple adolescence. The pure ambition, he hadn't recognized disguised in enthusiasm. The fact was, he wasn’t even sure Kenobi knew what had been happening to him. It was so gradual – and started on such slight things. Taking a correction the wrong way, letting that slight bitterness stay. Letting a stray thought continue. Qui-Gon doubted it would ever be understood how a person fell to evil. Maybe that was why it was so difficult for him to believe that Kenobi had fallen. That the boy he had loved as a son had given himself to evil, to the Dark Side of the Force. But nothing could explain away what he had done to Xanatos. He could remember the events so clearly, even after five years. The murder of dozens of Jedi, including some members of the Jedi Council. The pure hatred, hidden in Kenobi’s eyes. The shocking discovery of the murderer's identity; the realization that Xanatos had known before any of them, and had gone after a fleeing Kenobi. Qui-Gon didn’t see the majority of the fight. He did see the slight slip in Kenobi’s nearly perfect form – a battle stance Qui-Gon had drilled endlessly into him. Into all his apprentices. He remembered Xanatos’ complete lack of hesitation, the disgust and horror – grief, even? – on his face when he cut through Kenobi’s body, the full force that he possessed behind the strike. He remembered the look of Xanatos’ face when the former apprentice had realized his Master was there. The grief, the sympathy, and the sorrow. The pity. He remembered walking over to Kenobi’s body, and touching his face, still and innocent in the repose of death. Xanatos’ gentle hand on his shoulder – And he struck Xanatos, knocked him to the ground. Raged at him, with tears running down his face. Surely there could have been another way . . . He knew now that wasn’t the case. Kenobi had chosen his own path, and he had chosen the consequences thereof. Xanatos had acted as a true Jedi Knight, and defended the helpless from what Kenobi would no doubt have inflicted on them. And when Qui-Gon struck him, Xanatos never attempted to explain. Afterward – after months of contemplation – Qui-Gon realized Xanatos never would. He had acted in the manner befitting a Jedi, and he would not apologize for that. If there was one bad thing Xanatos had picked up from his Master, it was his arrogance. Of course, he was right, but still. Five years of meditation, thought, and self-discovery had led Qui-Gon to the knowledge that Xanatos had been right in what he did. Well, more like three or four. Soon after he came to the realization that Xanatos would never be sorry for his actions, and that he had no reason to be, even more. He wanted to tell Xanatos that – heal the break between them – but Xanatos was quite the expert at avoidance. He was pretty sure Xanatos hadn’t gotten that from his Master. Qui-Gon smiled into the darkness. He and Xanatos had been very close once. He hoped to have that again – that trust, that love, even. He had raised Xanatos, even as he had raised Kenobi. And Xanatos was still here. Xanatos was . . . . Xanatos. Qui-Gon would never cease to love the boy. Just as he would probably never cease to love Obi-Wan, no matter how much it hurt. No attachments, his ass. You aren’t sleeping, Qui-Gon, he thought. He sighed, the sound loud in the quiet room. He tried to quiet his thoughts, like he did in meditation, but it wasn’t working. The Force refused to be still, and he couldn’t block it out. Besides, meditation hadn’t put him to sleep since he was a Padawan. It made him think, instead, and he was already doing that. With a mental sigh rather than a physical one this time, Qui-Gon threw off his sheets and blankets and swung his feet out of the bed. His bare feet hit the carpeted floor with a thump. He rose slowly, stretching. Scratched his beard absentmindedly. Felt a gentle, mental nudge from the Force to move. “Lights, low,” he said gruffly. The lights obeyed, and he squinted for a moment before his eyes adjusted. He grabbed a robe and threw it on, pulling it up tight to his neck and throwing the hood up. Then he slipped on his oldest, most comfortable-nearly-falling-apart boots. And he left for the gardens that had always given him solace before. ~~* Obi-Wan rarely remembered his dreams in any great detail. Jedi did not often dream, and when they did, the dreams were either blurrily unclear or else visions sent from the Force. It was rare to receive a vision that way, however. His dreams were mostly formless. Before coming here, to this alternate universe, he had often dreamed of endless sand, moving like a sea – or a river – toward one place. And then he saw it fall off an endless cliff, like a waterfall of dulled particles. Everything was pulled along in its ruthless, inevitable sway. He always woke from that one gasping. But this time he dreamed of something different. It began simply enough. He was a Padawan again, with a youthful, innocent face and wry grin. He had a Knight’s tail, and the braid swinging over his shoulder. Strangely, in his dream he saw Anakin there as well, at the same age he was. Anakin smiled at him, then turned away to see something Obi-Wan couldn’t, his smile fading and horror replacing it. Then he looked back at Obi-Wan, and opened his mouth to say something. Darkness enveloped Obi-Wan's vision. It was as if he had blinked, and everything had changed. He saw Vader where he and Anakin had once been. A still figure lay on the floor, a Jedi cloak disguising the person’s identity. Then Vader turned away from the body, to stare into Obi-Wan’s dream-eyes. He slowly took off the mask, piece by piece. The miracle of technology came off with startling ease, and as Vader took each piece off he dropped it and moved to the next. Finally, the face behind the mask was revealed. It was himself. Obi-Wan. With a pale, death-like face, his blue eyes stared at him darkly, and a smile twisted his scarred face. The body was Anakin. He woke. Awareness returned fully and suddenly. His body was twisted in the heavy blankets, and he was sweating heavily. He panted, and licked his dry lips. He didn’t even want to think about what that dream could mean. Running a hand through his tangled hair, he kicked off the blankets with his feet. He took deep, calming breaths, and then he put his head in his hands, which were still trembling. The bed seemed to stink of his fear. With a sudden shiver, Obi-Wan rolled off the bed and onto his feet. It felt good not to be on the bed. Still breathing deeply, he walked out of the open room. Of course, it was very dark, but with the Force it wasn’t difficult to navigate. He let his fingertips trail on the walls and furniture. He could sense Xanatos, still asleep, on the couch. Feeling his way with his hands and with the Force, he went to Xanatos. When his hand encountered hair, he stopped, mentally debating whether or not to wake the Jedi. Slowly, the hand withdrew. Obi-Wan let his senses expand to cover more of the Temple, trying to tell if anyone had sensed him. He doubted it, since Xanatos hadn’t woken, but to be safe he checked. To his relief, he found that most everyone was asleep or in deep meditation. There were no spikes of alarm or alertness. Instead, he sensed the vibrancy of the Temple gardens. The feeling of life had been present in his Temple, but there it was strengthened, overwhelming. It made him feel like he was in the middle of a jungle, not on a city planet. Sometimes, that sensation made the whole situation feel unreal. Or too real – the differences between his universe and this one were still strange and startling. So close, yet not quite the same. As Obi-Wan let the Force fill him, it swept into every part of his mind. Before he was aware of moving, he was in the hallway, just outside of Xanatos’ apartment. For a moment, uncertainty of what he was doing entered his mind. The Force reacted strongly, leading him on more firmly. He went. He let his eyes drift shut, and held his arms open. The Force was alive, so present. He didn’t notice the coldness of the floors, or the gentle air currents when he went through this Temple he didn’t know, his steps unhesitating and sure. Through the Force he knew the way. When the Force released its trance-like hold on Obi-Wan, he was in a garden. Moonlight hit the ground in slivers, like shards of a knife hitting the darkness. Darkly rich colors surrounded him; green, blue, red, and orange. The ground was wet, and he was damp from a lightly falling drizzle, which was almost a gentle mist. The moon peeked out from behind heavy clouds, lighting them eerily. Plants reached high up, then drooped down over pebble pathways. Hesitating for only a moment, Obi-Wan walked down one of the pathways before him. He didn’t know where he was. He couldn’t see the actual Temple – he was completely surrounded by plant life and artificial pathways. It was disorienting. He ignored the rough feel of the walkway beneath his feet, and walked further into the garden. ~~* Why did it have to be raining? Well, Qui-Gon admitted to himself, it wasn’t quite raining yet. But the steady drizzle spoke of rain to come, as did the heaviness of the air. Still, the rain had left the air as clean as if this were not a city planet. He was in the Garden of Stones. Of course, it wasn’t made entirely of stones – but the architectural element was of carved stone and pebbled pathways. Heavy, drooping exotic plants lined the walkways. This garden wasn’t designed to be a place of meditation as much as one of quiet socialization – a place to meet someone on a walk to get some fresh air. It wasn’t likely that he was going to meet someone at this time of night, however. It was still several hours until dawn would strike the Jedi Temple. In the meantime, Qui-Gon could and would enjoy the peaceful darkness, dimly lit by the faint lights of Coruscant and the moon. The combination of lighting sources created an eerie effect, almost as if the light was simply lighting upon everything in slashes of silver. He breathed deeply, and was startled by a quiet scuffle, like the aimless noise of someone walking without quite being certain of his destination. Somewhat startled by the interruption, he turned. A figure stood there. Not too tall, but not short. No robe. Just a man in Jedi clothes, walking in the moonlight. But he knew this man. It didn’t matter that long, ragged beard disguised the face, or how the slant of the light created hollow points where the eyes should be. Or that the gait of the man was hesitant, the steps small and slow. It didn’t matter that this man no longer had the startling aura of youth that he had possessed through adulthood. Qui-Gon Jinn would always know Obi-Wan Kenobi, no matter his age and no matter the time. Obi-Wan spoke. “Master?” It was a soft breath more than an actual word. He took a hesitant step forward, and the light flashed in his blue eyes. Confusion swirled in them, to be quickly replaced by some strange, dawning realization. This could not be. Kenobi was dead. He was part of his past, not his future. Not his present. Kenobi had passed into the Force, had received the consequences of his actions. Qui-Gon’s mind refused to accept the reality that was in front of him. A thousand possibilities and explanations whirled through his mind, none of them right. “You are dead,” Qui-Gon said hoarsely, his voice low and emotional. He wondered if he was talking to a hallucination, something created by some deranged portion of his mind. Could he even talk himself away? “Leave me be.” Kenobi’s face twisted in anguish, and pained understanding. “I –“ “I don’t –” Qui-Gon began. “What – what are you?” He reached for his lightsaber, only to realize that he had left it in his apartment, assuming safety in the Jedi Temple. “I’m not what you think. I’m not him.” Kenobi’s hands clenched into fists, then relaxed just as quickly. His eyes dropped to the ground, hesitancy stirring in them. “Then what are you?” Qui-Gon asked, still stunned, his voice hoarse. “I . . .” Kenobi hesitated, then finally lifted his eyes to meet Qui-Gon’s. When the other man turned away, not wanting to meet that gaze, he missed Obi-Wan's flinch. “I am what could have been.” There was a short silence. It was broken by a strange, dark sound. Qui-Gon felt heat – anger – stirring inside of him, becoming more powerful with each passing moment. His body tensed with controlled energy, feeling fierce and unforgiving. He laughed. Then the anger seemed to fade. He stared into Obi-Wan's depthless eyes. How could someone look so innocent, so unscarred by the darkness that was within? Did Kenobi not even see it within himself? Qui-Gon saw nothing of the mocking he had known from his apprentice in those eyes. Those damnable eyes. “I don’t understand how you are alive, Kenobi, but this fact remains: you turned.” Kenobi stared at him, shaking now. ~~* It was more than strange, seeing Qui-Gon again. It was disturbing. He wanted to touch him, to actually verify that the man was real and standing there. He seemed oddly big, bigger than any memory of him could ever be. Everything was starkly real, every smell and breath making an impact on Obi-Wan’s psyche. Qui-Gon continued, relentlessly. He was a big man, and right now he was using his size to intimidate. He leaned forward, his mouth tight and straight, with his eyes full of pain, as much as Obi-Wan himself had. Obi-Wan found that ironic. “Whoever you are, whatever you are – you would spread darkness. You carry it within you, I know it. I saw it," Qui-Gon said. Obi-Wan flinched. That . . . that couldn’t be true. He knew Anakin turned because of his failings – the fact that he hadn’t turned here, under Yoda’s tutelage, proved that – but his mere presence was evil? Surely he was not evil. He didn’t want to be evil. “I’m not him,” Obi-Wan repeated weakly. “Force, what is wrong with you? Why deny it? Why even come here, why resurface? We thought you were dead!” Qui-Gon yelled, his fists clenched. He took quick steps forward, and before Obi-Wan could react, he struck Obi-Wan on the cheek. Obi-Wan fell hard, the breath nearly knocked out of him. The pebbles of the pathway were sharp and unyielding under his side. He turned his head to look up at his former Master. Qui-Gon was pale and breathing heavily. His eyes softened with a look of guilt. “Perhaps you’ve even done it to me – no, no,” he whispered, his hands open and loose before him. Qui-Gon looked at his hands, as if puzzled. He knelt, and almost gently, took Obi-Wan’s face in his hands, easing the pain of the bruise. Obi-Wan held himself very still, feeling both frightened and uncertain. His instincts, from all those years as this man's Padawan, told him to obey. “Can’t you feel it inside yourself? I know you so well, Obi-Wan, why are you hiding it from yourself? Why did you come here?” The Force exploded around Obi-Wan. Even as he remembered from his days as Padawan, Qui-Gon’s Force presence was bright and powerful, although without the depth of Yoda’s presence. It flowed around Obi-Wan's mind and within it, breaking through shields as if they weren’t there. Shields Qui-Gon had taught him to erect, and shields he could therefore break down with equal ease. Some things didn't change, it would appear. In breaking down those mental shields, Qui-Gon broke him down, and showed Obi-Wan himself. In some attempt to save what he believed to be his lost apprentice. To show him the truth. Even as Qui-Gon went into Obi-Wan's mind, Obi-Wan could see glimpses of Qui-Gon's true self. He didn't desire to hurt Obi-Wan – that wasn't his intention. He grieved for his pain. He wanted to save the boy he loved, the boy he believed to have turned. One could only defeat Darkness by facing it. Every person had darkness – for those evil beings, they took that part and embraced it. Qui-Gon revealed that inner darkness and showed it to Obi-Wan. Not in any specific sense, of course. He simply sought the small, little inklings of darkness within Obi-Wan’s struggling mind and spirit, and shoved his own ‘sight’ to Obi-Wan. This Obi-Wan, who was so fragile and weak. This Obi-Wan, who had never sought to deny the truth that he was an imperfect being. This Obi-Wan, who had only tried his best. Obi-Wan, who had his faults. Obi-Wan, who had anger. Obi-Wan, who had arrogance. Along with that forceful insistence, came Qui-Gon’s thoughts that this truth was the only way to save his Padawan from the darkness, to force him to the light. It drove Obi-Wan mad. A person's mind is a personal thing. To touch a person's mind in any way – even in the Master and Padawan bond – was deeply intimate, and both parties had to be extremely careful. Minds are very fragile, a web of threads that can be undone by loosing only one. A word can hurt someone – but a thought could do so much more. And after that, there was a dark silence inside his mind. Everything was so blank, so spiritless. So very quiet. He heard Qui-Gon rise from his kneeling position. Felt a hand gently touch his head, with the intention to soothe. Qui-Gon's voice rose, distressed. He couldn't make out the words, though. It didn't seem quite important enough to link them together. Sorry? Leave? Love? Help? The pebbled pathway was rough against his cheek, the tiny rocks pricking his skin. His breaths came smoothly and evenly. His arms were curled up at his chest, and the rest of his body was in a fetal position. Then, there was that gentle touch again. He sensed grief. Heard someone call out for help, felt waves of panic in the Force. From the silent darkness his thoughts rose, perfectly light and clear. Obi-Wan had taken Anakin as his apprentice as a gift to the person he loved as a father, to fulfill the wish of a dying man. Obi-Wan had seen a boy of potential, then. He had been blind, just as the rest of the Jedi were. Then he got to know the boy, learned his faults and witnessed his great joys. His personality, scarred with the caution of slavery but with a willing and cheerful heart all the same. But again, Obi-Wan saw as the Jedi did – a boy full of potential. Future power. Not the boy, himself. Obi-Wan held to the memory, teaching and words Qui-Gon for all these years, out of some misguided sense of obligation and duty. Qui-Gon had taken Obi-Wan as his apprentice when no one else would. In his mind, that sense of obligation never faded. But it was foolish – teaching and love are not things that must be returned, repaid. Qui-Gon gave Obi-Wan a gift, and Obi-Wan could not see the gift for what it was. He never gave Anakin the right gift. And that gift was simple love and acceptance. It was a priceless gift – and one that a former slave had needed desperately. Force damn his own blindness. Even years after his Master's death, Obi-Wan had not truly forged his own path. He had held to his Master's wisdom more than his own experience. He was not Qui-Gon, and Anakin was not Obi-Wan. What had been needed had been needed was what every relationship truly is and must be – was the recognition that their own relationship was unique, and special. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon. Anakin and Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon didn't matter. The expectations of the Jedi Council didn't matter. The Chosen One prophecy didn't matter. None of it. At the core, there was simply Anakin, the boy that he loved as a son, and whom he had tried to blindly help but failed. It didn't matter if Anakin never became a Jedi. Anakin mattered. Anakin. With that realization, Obi-Wan was free. Years of the heavy weight of obligation and duty vanished, under the force of simple love. His duty as a Jedi didn't matter. And that weight was lifted. His seeking to give credence to Qui-Gon's beliefs and reputation didn't matter – it wasn't important. And that burden was lifted. The Force was still and silent in reaction to his newfound knowledge – content in what it had done, it almost seemed. Obi-Wan had learned. It was raining. The drops fell gently and softly, like a hundred gentle kisses lighting upon him at once. The droplets fell from his nose and chin, running down Obi-Wan's limp body onto the ground. He opened his eyes. The garden was vivid, every sensation and color strangely present, as if the rest of his life had been nothing but a faded dream, outshone by the light of reality. The ground was harsh, the rain gentle. His hands twitched, cold and numb. "Obi-Wan?" It was Xanatos', with panic underlying the smooth velvet of his voice. There was a scrabbling sound, the pebbles being moved and shifted beneath the force of Xanatos' feet and his weight. "Oh, Obi-Wan." Two hands, strong and steady, lifted him by his shoulders. He was shivering uncontrollably in the rain, which was gentle enough to be called a heavy mist, and pulled back to Xanatos' chest. The man's long fingers held him there, and Obi-Wan felt a gentle nudge of the Force – Xanatos clearly trying to ascertain if Obi-Wan was injured. Finding no physical injuries, Xanatos took a firm grip of Obi-Wan's limp shoulders and shook him, drawing him away so he could look into the man's eyes. "Obi-Wan? Are you all right?" he asked, his dark eyes deeply concerned. Obi-Wan nodded. Then, feeling more of a confirmation was needed, he added, "Yes. I'm fine." Slowly, Xanatos shook his head. "No, you are not. I can feel you through the Force – your mind is . . . What happened to you? It's like someone burned your mind." "Qui-Gon." Xanatos' eyes, still meeting Obi-Wan's, widened. "He was here? He did this to you? Oh no . . . I'm going to get the . . . " The words seemed to trail off as Obi-Wan murmured, "I'm free now." Xanatos, silent, held him closer and more protectively. Xanatos' breaths came in harsh pants, while Obi-Wan's remained even and calm. He felt one of Xanatos' hands fumble around, then there was the beep of a comlink. Xanatos spoke into it, but Obi-Wan didn't pay attention to the words. Something about the Council, and not allowing something. Someone. It didn't matter. Obi-Wan closed his eyes, and exhaled. He was free. -----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: 2/10/04 9:46pm Subject: RE: The Water's Edge (~cowritten with H_H_P~ {~Updated Feb. 10 ~} Winner of Best Collab)
	I am what could have been... I love that line -----signature----- Courtier of the Royal Order of Shambling Dufi We are Dufi...Resistance is Futile! UCLA BRUINS
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obaona Registered: Jun '02	Date Posted: 2/12/04 5:12pm Subject: RE: The Water's Edge (~cowritten with H_H_P~ {~Updated Feb. 10 ~} Winner of Best Collab)
	PK: Thank you. -----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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Lord_Acleisst Registered: Jan '04	Date Posted: 2/12/04 8:15pm Subject: RE: The Water's Edge (~cowritten with H_H_P~ {~Updated Feb. 10 ~} Winner of Best Collab)
	Beatiful story. It was kind of sad at the end, but in a nice way. Sorry. I have been lurking the entire time.
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Gabri_Jade Title: Fan Fiction Archive Editor Emeritus Registered: Nov '02	Date Posted: 2/13/04 3:42pm Subject: RE: The Water's Edge (~cowritten with H_H_P~ {~Updated Feb. 10 ~} Winner of Best Collab)
	I like it very much. “Who was the other option?” Obi-Wan asked, unable to imagine a Chancellor worse than his own Palpatine; though this Palpatine probably deserved the benefit of the doubt, Obi-Wan couldn’t entirely get rid of that feeling yet. “Binks,” Xanatos grunted, hoisting himself up from the chair. LOL! I certainly never saw that one coming. That's Elli for you. Though I thought she maintained that Jar-Jar was a great dramatic hero, just misunderstood. Death. What a simple way of putting it. It's just a line, but a very eloquent and telling line. I really like it. If there was one bad thing Xanatos had picked up from his Master, it was his arrogance. Of course, he was right, but still. grins Sounds very much like Qui-Gon to me. The whole Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan thing and Obi-Wan's realization is very I should have guessed that Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan would meet at some point, but even if I had I wouldn't have guessed that this would happen. I'm quite intrigued by it all. I'll be very interested to see what happens next. -----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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jacen200015 Registered: Jan '02	Date Posted: 2/15/04 6:52pm Subject: RE: The Water's Edge (~cowritten with H_H_P~ {~Updated Feb. 10 ~} Winner of Best Collab)
	sighs and waits. -----signature----- If I review then PM me when you update. thanks so much. Send me your completed 'the saga' stories! Check out my new story Descent Into Darkness Don't quote me the odds. I shall do as I must. Do or do not, there is no try.
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obaona Registered: Jun '02	Date Posted: 2/15/04 11:13pm Subject: RE: The Water's Edge (~cowritten with H_H_P~ {~Updated Feb. 10 ~} Winner of Best Collab)
	Lord_Acleisst: Glad to see you here! And thank you. Gabri: Thank you. And aye, that whole bit was very Elli. Though originally she had it saying 'pink' skin! I wonder what that was about. Glad you think I sounded like Qui-Gon, too. And yes, this whole part is something of a shocker. There's really little clue it's coming, which could be a good or bad thing. It does change things, a bit, but . . . well, you'll see. Thank you again. huggies jacen200015: apologizes I'll get the next post up soon, I swear. -----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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