Before - Legends A Song on Low-(Obi/Qui)-Part 1/2-11.2

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PG

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.

This can be viewed as an AU to another AU, The Broken Cadence Rolls, or as a stand-alone. Title taken from the Norah Jones song ?One Flight Down? by Jesse Harris.

Obi-Wan left the Jedi to help his friends on Melida/Dann, devastated by war. But his decision brought consequences he could not imagine, and his friends, and old life, are gone. What can he do now?

()

All the stone had crumbled. Once, the earth had been thriving, covered in dark soil and soft, thick grasses. From that earth, like ancient trees, rose the monuments. They were meant to signify lives lost, but they too were dead, cracked and crushed, stained in old blood and rust.

Like mutilated ghosts, frozen for eternity, their slate eyes stared from the slate fog, flat and merciless.

Obi-Wan tried not to stare back, from his unsteady perch on a felled column. But even with his own eyes closed, those eyes were there, filling the empty spaces of his mind. He wondered, in the long, dark nights, who those statues had been, if the people they immortalized could see the violent, hungry decay he saw.

Sometimes, he dreamed that his flesh was hard as granite, but strong as chalk, and the winds always beat him to dust.

He looked down at his hands. They were dry and grainy. When he flexed them, there were too many lines stretched in a web across his skin. The lines seeped with blood when it grew cold.

And now, barely afternoon, he saw a thin little streak of it, along the arch of his knuckle. He put the hand to his mouth.

The acrid, bitter tang snaked slowly into his senses. It was a familiar taste. During one of the worst battles, ruddy dirt choking the air, he bit down on the inside of his mouth, swarming it with blood. It had never healed, mostly because he had acquired the habit of biting the spot whenever he became anxious.

When Cerasi died, he pierced that flesh so hard it would have brought tears to his eyes, if they had not already been welling with them. Obi-Wan ran his tongue across the swollen pocket, and a shiver flew through his guts.

He would never let that flesh mend. He could not forget her; that he had failed to protect her.

That he had failed everyone so completely, so miserably. He thought he was doing the right thing-the ONLY thing-by remaining here. Peace was never birthed from abandonment. Now, he realized he had never made even a shred of difference on Melida/Dann.

The sides still battled. Blood still ran. And Cerasi was still a corpse.

Only he, Obi-Wan, was different. He wasn?t a Padawan. He wasn?t a Jedi. The Force had all but retreated from his veins. He had witnessed things that ripped the sweet security of childhood away from him, but he remained a child, unable to cope with it, let alone release it to the Force. He never knew where he would sleep, or where his food would come from. The hollow land gave him nothing. The sky was a watery stew of gray clouds. His clothes were meager protection against the stale breezes.

He was like the helpless children the Jedi were sworn to defend; only he had put himself into this position, and so deserved no shelter from the consequences of his hastiness.

Obi-Wan watched the listless movements of a fat, black insect, swinging drunkenly as it hurried from one monument to the next, searching for sustenance but touching onto chilled stone. What would he do? Keep moving, constantly looking for a way to sate the burn of his stomach, or relieve the weariness of his bones? How long could a child be a vagabond, before fate clutched him up?

On days when he could not attempt to answer those questions, or start another pilgrimage, he daydreamed of The Hetholi Wizard, the hero of tales that had circled the Initiates? Wing. He was a magic-blessed being who could take you anywhere in time you wished, whether it be the day before or a hundred generations into the future. Obi-

 

Oh, thank the Force, it's an AU of Cadence. Glorious as always but I was so afraid to read it, thinking that you would rip out my heart again - and you still might but not at the moment.

Love, love, love the description. You have such a talent for using few words to bring out the brilliance of the place.
stained in old blood and rust.
violent, hungry decay
Like mutilated ghosts, frozen for eternity, their slate eyes stared from the slate fog, flat and merciless.
Do you have any idea of how beautiful that prose/poetry is???? Gives me chills even now.

And the story is wonderful. Love how Obi thinks about the magical one that could make things right again with a second chance.

Love this.

 

Such beautiful discriptions, the words are haunting.



He had felt so right, so righteous, declaring that he was doing what needed to be done. But maybe he was only seeking adventure, or the affection of friends, or to seal a hole in his heart that he himself had dug. How could he have believed himself to be all knowing, wiser than his Master, who had saved him from the Bandomeer mines, offered him a chance at Knighthood? To think of how he had rejoiced when Qui-Gon accepted him as his apprentice, how he had forced his way into the man?s life!

I love it as I love Cadence

You make me want to hug them both and make all
the pain go away.

He came back for Obi-Wan!!
If only he had come back for him in Cadence.

Oh! What I am saying!! Then there wouldn't be such a brillaint story to follow.

Well done

 

LOVELY!!! And he went back for Obi!! Oh can't wait for the next chapter!!

Well done! Poor Obi... he was thinking of Qui about the 'one less burdon' thing poor guy!

 

Oh wow! That brought tears to my eyes, but they were happy tears at the end.

The acrid, bitter tang snaked slowly into his senses. It was a familiar taste. During one of the worst battles, ruddy dirt choking the air, he bit down on the inside of his mouth, swarming it with blood. It had never healed, mostly because he had acquired the habit of biting the spot whenever he became anxious.

When Cerasi died, he pierced that flesh so hard it would have brought tears to his eyes, if they had not already been welling with them. Obi-Wan ran his tongue across the swollen pocket, and a shiver flew through his guts.

He would never let that flesh mend. He could not forget her; that he had failed to protect her.

That he had failed everyone so completely, so miserably. He thought he was doing the right thing-the ONLY thing-by remaining here. Peace was never birthed from abandonment. Now, he realized he had never made even a shred of difference on Melida/Dann.

The sides still battled. Blood still ran. And Cerasi was still a corpse.

Only he, Obi-Wan, was different. He wasn?t a Padawan. He wasn?t a Jedi. The Force had all but retreated from his veins. He had witnessed things that ripped the sweet security of childhood away from him, but he remained a child, unable to cope with it, let alone release it to the Force. He never knew where he would sleep, or where his food would come from. The hollow land gave him nothing. The sky was a watery stew of gray clouds. His clothes were meager protection against the stale breezes.

So like Obi-Wan to accept that mantle of guilt and cut himself with it.

Your language never fails to move me. You take words and paint a picture with them so skillfully that I'm always left feeling... I don't know, just FEELING. Gorgeous.

 

You know I adore anything you write. Don't you? Once again you've managed to convey an incredible amount of feeling and heartbreak with your choice of words. I look forward to the second part.

 

The sky was a watery stew of gray clouds.

Loved that. What a wonderful description

I sense that this is not a dream, but I also sense that all may not be as it seems....

Heartbreaking and beautiful, LE!

--shan

 

You always get me in the heart, LE and of course this wasn't different.

Bravo!

-Krystal

 

Once again, moved to - pure emotion. Your words are so lyrical, and your stories so involving that one reading one the reader becmes immersed in that world....

All the stone had crumbled. Once, the earth had been thriving, covered in dark soil and soft, thick grasses. From that earth, like ancient trees, rose the monuments. They were meant to signify lives lost, but they too were dead, cracked and crushed, stained in old blood and rust.

Like mutilated ghosts, frozen for eternity, their slate eyes stared from the slate fog, flat and merciless.

Obi-Wan tried not to stare back, from his unsteady perch on a felled column. But even with his own eyes closed, those eyes were there, filling the empty spaces of his mind. He wondered, in the long, dark nights, who those statues had been, if the people they immortalized could see the violent, hungry decay he saw.

Sometimes, he dreamed that his flesh was hard as granite, but strong as chalk, and the winds always beat him to dust.

He looked down at his hands. They were dry and grainy. When he flexed them, there were too many lines stretched in a web across his skin. The lines seeped with blood when it grew cold.

And now, barely afternoon, he saw a thin little streak of it, along the arch of his knuckle. He put the hand to his mouth.

Qui-Gon came back! So much - better? - definitely happier than Cadence (which breaks my heart into a thousand pieces).

 

I like

PM for more please

 

Brilliant as always, LE!

With each story you leave me more in awe of your writing. The descriptions and emotions never fail to draw a reader in and leave them wishing the story would never end.

And this one's no different. If I ever get half as good I'll be happy.

Write a million of them!

Please, please, please could I have a PM when you post again.

 

Then Qui-Gon was walking again, and when Obi-Wan came back to himself, he realized that he was being held. It was strange and foreign; no one had come close to him, he had not known the warmth of another person?s arms, or the dependable rhythm of another heart, in so long. He wound his arms slowly around Qui-Gon?s neck.

Aaaaaaaaah, the warm resurgence of hope, after a long diet of despair and void of hope, is satisfying indeed. I wonder where they will go...

 

Oh poor Obi-Wan! What a harsh price he paid for staying behind on Melida/Dann!

Awesome job on this!

 

Well, if one of your stories needed an AU, it's Cadence, and I say that as an angst queen (and total hypocrite).

Parroting everyone else, I love the descriptions; I can just see everything - the statues, Obi-Wan...The devastation is tangible.

Wonderful ethereal quality to this.

Looking forward to the next part.