Saga If I Were To Close My Eyes: Obi/Qui Drama: Responses to replies 4.8

If I Were To Close My Eyes
By LuvEwan

(pg)

summary: After Obi-Wan is returned from nearly seven month's captivity, Qui-Gon is seized by an intense fear. Written in narrative from Qui-Gon's perspective.

(angst/drama)

main characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn (A real surprise there, huh?)

disclaimer: pssst?I've got a secret. George Lucas is really a short, seventeen year old girl who hates plaid and makes absolutely no profit whatsoever.

DEDICATED TO my readers, as always. You instill a desire to write within me, thanks to your constant support. You don't understand how deeply I appreciate it, and since there are no words to tell you all, I hope you'll know through this. If I didn't receive the kind words and helpful comments you provide, I would not only be less of a writer, these stories would most likely remain tucked away in my computer or my head. Wait?maybe that would be a good thing?

?..

What am I to do
If I don't have you? -Paul McCartney

?..

One: The Panic in Me

I'm not going. I don't need to. I already checked. I already checked twice. Three times?Four?

I flip onto my side, tucking the pillow beneath my head and clenching my eyes shut.

I try to quiet my mind, hush the incessant little voice that repeats, over and over, that I should check on him.

Just a glance into his room--only to be certain he's alright.

That he's really there.

A soft snort at my absurdity.

I'm reminded of Tahl, walking fluidly along the row of tiny beds in the dimly lit creche, her honey-tan skin caressed by invading moonlight.

I asked her why she performed the nightly ritual of crouching beside each slumbering infant and toddler, lingering in their innocent, guileless presence, ruffling their feathery hair.

With twinkling jade eyes, she'd say:

"Who can watch over such precious lives without?making sure?"

I admit I couldn't fully understand her motivations then. A young, famously (or infamously, I suppose you could argue) rebellious Knight has little in way of paternal tendencies, and absolutely no talent for that sort of intuition.

But now?Gods I can comprehend her words.

I feel the tingle in my stomach, the tightness that seems to bind my lungs until I can't gather a breath.

And I have the same powerful impulse to stop beside his bed, to wait for his warmth breath to meet my palm.

If I resist, if I force myself to remain lying here, the pillow turns to stone under me. The air grows cold, restless, disdainful

I sometimes think I'll go mad.

Initially, after reclining on the duvet and settling in the mild comfort of weariness receded, I'll drift. I meditate on the closing day, the events and thoughts passed taking on a blurry incoherence as my senses slightly dull?

Then, a harmless image from the recent hours will enter my mind. A parry during an intense spar, when he stumbled backward due to a lethargic reaction, a chagrined smile splitting his face.

I smiled in turn?

But lying in my bed, the memory is a haze that twists, that mutates.

Until I see him huddled in the healing ward, tears cascading down his cheeks, a patch secured over one eye.

My heart contracts at the scene, moisture spiking in my own eyes.

Yet, that isn't the end. It isn't ever the end.

I could take it if it didn't go beyond that. I could endure the remnant of his suffering, as I have the course of our partnership, if it were to stop there.

But no. No.

Visions are painted in morbid color in my periphery. I watch him being stolen?being taken away?.while I?while I?

Slept in oblivion, a matter of feet from him.

At the time, I was unable to hear the hoarse, cruel curses of the criminals (Demons. I can't deny that?Why would I want to?) As he was being abducted from the safety and assurances of our room, I was probably snoring. So I have imagined the sounds that roughly permeated the silence.

I can only invent the startled gasp that must have fallen from his slack lips.

Naturally I was told the

 

Will I do?

I think you've captured the perfect tone and quality of every parent who ever experienced the tragedy of a lost child. In this case, Qui was lucky enough to get the child in question back - but I doubt a parent would ever be able to put aside that constant worry - that terror of a repeat performance.

I think it's lovely, Hon - and I look forward to more when you get to it. I don't get to read as much as I'd like these days - but I'll watch for this.

BTW - the Big Fish trailer is back on ET for tomorrow - unless they screw us over again. Judging from what's on the net, it's a beauty.

CYN

 

Very nice Vignette!!

Please continue the story!!

 

I have to agree with CYN, you captured a parent's feelings and perspective perfectly. I can remember getting up in the middle of the night and sleeping on the floor of my son's room when he was terribly sick because I wanted to hear him breathing for myself. I like that this is from Qui-Gon's POV and I am thrilled that more will be coming. Count me in (as if that were ever in doubt ).

 

You've managed to capture the absolute torment of a parent whose child is gone and luckily has been returned. Great job!

It's lovely as a vignette but I would prefer a story....Is the whole story in Qui-Gon's POV or are you going to be shifting back and forth?


Keep going!

 

That is wonderful. All I can say is MORE

 

Aw thanks guys. I'd reply to you but I have to call my friend or I might not have a ride home tomorrow.

 

I hate you.

I loathe you.

HOW DARE YOU LEAVE US THERE?

*breathes hard*

LE, dear, you know I love your work and respect you to death but...

Another vignette like that will get you killed.

We understand each other? Good.

Excellent piece of work, my friend. Really awesome, I was blown away by it. You are gifted, my friend. I don't know how and I don't know why, you just are. You made it seem like I was there living with Qui-Gon in his breath.

-Krystal

 

CYN Thanks so much! [face_shocked] This idea came to me as the scene of him in the bedroom, and it just kept hounding me until I finally gave in. I was going to wait until it was completely finished to begin posting....but I couldn't wait. I'm so glad you're reading. And I'm just happy ET mentioned he'd be on tomorrow so I didn't have to sit through anymore of the overly repeated junk. (Kobe Bryant...I've really heard more than enough. Arnold...don't get me started!)

KSkywalker Hey! A new reader! I'm so happy you like it so far! Hope to see you back.

Sheila I was really worried about writing and posting a fic in POV-especially Qui-Gon. He's a difficult character to write, and to write the entire fic in his perspective is so daunting. I'm really glad you're here.

dianethx The whole story will be Qui-Gon's perspective. (I know..you're just heartbroken! ) I might do a companion piece from Obi-Wan's..if I haven't gone crazy by then.

PK All I can say is thank you.

Krystal And I hate you too, sweetie. Seriously though, thank so much for your kind (too kind!) words. I really appreciated them.

 

Wow, I loved that!

 

Amazing. Losing a child is a trauma one can hardly learn to live with, and you perfectly described the emotions a father would feel in a case like that.

Beautiful descriptions, poignant emotions...
Great job, LE!

 

f_o_w Aw, thanks.

Nat I'm so glad you're reading. And thanks for the kind words.

 

Hi sweetie!

Like Cyn, little time to read and reply -but how can I resist one of yours? Incredible work as always. Can't wait to see the rest!

Shaindl

PS: I've also caught up on Mists and Coming Home - my bad, I didn't have time to reply. Know that I am ALWAYS reading though - and that I absolutely adore your work.

 

Beautiful! And there's more?

 

Wonderful LE!

That was captivating. I can relate to a parent's need to make sure his/her child is alright, having two little ones myself. You described it perfectly.

Please continue! Can't wait to read more.

~Bek

 

I'm continuing with this sooner than I thought. Already have about two and a half pages of a new post, but was incredibly busy today and didn't have time to finish it. POV's are so difficult, you have to be so careful not to throw the narrator out of character. But at the same time, it gives you more of a chance to show emotion--I hope!

Shaindl Hi! I'm so glad to see you. I know that sometimes there's no time to reply. I'm just happy to know you're reading.

o_e Thank you!

Bekah It's so great that people with children are relating to this story. They can give wonderful feedback. Thank you for reading.

 

Two: What If??

Tonight will be different.

I swear it will be.

Since this morning, when I shuffled stiffly from his bedroom as he began to awaken, I've repeated the declaration.

While rubbing my dry, aching eyes, I made the silent promise. As I lathered my hair for the second time (Isn't it funny how one can so easily forget the first?) the decision was reached.

It isn't that the fear has left me. Far from it. If it were possible, if I could accomplish it without raising any eyebrows (or questions of my sanity) I'd knock down the blasted wall that separates our quarters. Then there'd be no need to sit in the dead silence, night after night, guarding against unseen enemies. Because he'd be so much closer then--

How close was he when they took him?

The truth impales me, and a great frustration wells inside.

What solutions can there be?

Protecting him is my purpose. For awhile, in the tender beginning, that wasn't nearly as clear to me. I didn't regard him as a miracle then?not until he performed one of his own.

After all, curing blindness, in any form, is remarkable.

In the early stages of our partnership, I shielded him from bodily harm, of course. It was the core duty of a Jedi-to preserve life-and I performed what was necessary of a Master. What the Council expected me to do.

But I?I didn't do what he expected me to do.

What was necessary of a friend.

Or father.

I gulp down a lump in my throat.

Hmm. I guess these recollections of mine are hard to swallow.

I might've laughed at such a coincidence--before. Today, I can detect no humor in it. As I think further, I realize that lately I've found little cause to smile or chuckle.

Unless he is laughing. Through him, I can. Even if it's a mere smirk tugging at his lips.

Otherwise, the Universe is a place rampant with dangers, dark corners, threats. Degenerates that would slit a throat if only to watch the resulting line of blood drip.

And damn it. I'm doing it again.

He's sitting in the living area, on the worn-out, battered couch that used to resemble Calliamian caramel in color, but has faded considerably.

I don't mind.

If it were to look pristine and untouched, it'd be a stale, emotionless piece indeed.

With its various stains and creases and one very noticeable rip, one can tell that there is someone who leans on the overstuffed arms, who dozes on the soft cushions after a marathon viewing of dramatic (and romantic, I always tease) holo vids, the bowl of sticky sweets still clutched in two equally sticky hands.

Someone who occasionally runs across it, or leaps over it, much to the counterfeit fury of his Master.

This evening that someone is pressed into the sofa's corner, engrossed in an old historical tome that once belonged to my teacher, then to me.

And, though I haven't confirmed it aloud yet, he knows the dusty book will be a new fixture on the shelf in his room. Not a permanent one, for when he has a Padawan of his own the tradition will be continued.

But that won't be for quite awhile.

A fool's comfort, I acknowledge, as I study his face from the kitchen unit, where I'm preparing dinner. The countenance retains a boyish quality, due to the roundness of his cheeks and the spiky hairstyle, but his eyes carry a fierce maturity, an intelligence that sets him apart.

The child-like features have helped me elude what I know is looming. The incredible talents, though, work constantly to destroy that.

I've taught him well, Yoda tells me on occasion, usually after viewing an impressive kata performance, or watching him interact with a group of adoring, wide-eyed initiates.

"Much to learn he still has, Master Qui-Gon. But, in young Kenobi already, I see the brilliance of a great Knight."

What pride I feel when I hear such praise, especially when it's the hard-earned sentiment of an oft-reserved, cryptic little troll.

Yes, I've trained him to be a warrior, a mediator, maybe even a savior.

But in the years it's taken, I

 

Beautiful as always.

 

It sounds like Qui-Gon's wounds are even deeper than Obi-Wan's here. Beautiful post LE.

 

Somebody needs to catch Qui before he crashes. It's so sad how terrified he's become of losing Obi-Wan although I can't blame him since I can't imagine how it would feel to lose a child.

What a gripping exploration of a parent's fears and worries, LE. Well done!

Shaindl

 

Absolutely lovely. Reading both parts it an interesting contrast to see the parent's fear and the Master's responsibility. I loved how it was the simple thing that could impact Qui-Gon so much or that are affected . Instead of relaxing and being able to rejoice all he can do is worry.

 

Next post's already begun, so it shouldn't be long until an update.

obi_ew Thank you.

Sheila Maybe they are.

Shaindl I'm hoping that I show him worrying alot, but not so much that he's catapulted completely out of characer. Thanks for the feedback.

Seraphena Ooh! New reader! I wanted to have him conflicted, with both father and Master warring against each other internally, with his instincts usually winning. Thank you for your comments.

 

I agree with Sheila. Obi-Wan may have needed the healer for physical injuries, but it is obvious that his master needs a healer to deal with even deeper problems.

 

That was brilliant. (I already reviewed it on ff.net, but I thought I would again. )

 

Marvelous, LE - a touching study of a parent with some major issues, and a stunning psychological evaluation by someone much too young to have figured all this stuff out. Haunting, riveting and filled with pathos.

And - just my two cents, here - I love POV works, in the theory that they allow much greater emotional range than God's eye perspectives. For example: in third person, one would write, "He was hurt." In POV, it becomes, "I hurt" - and it is somehow, by virtue of nothing more than changing the perspective, suddenly a cry from the heart.

More soon would be good.

CYN