Saga Sound the Bugle. An Obi-Wan vignette. Post ROTS. *Complete*

Tiltle: Sound the Bugle
Author:Glenstorm
Timeframe: Just after ROTS.
Summary: Obi-Wan grieves on Tatooine for the loss of his life.
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. Everything belongs to George, except the song which belongs to Brian Adams (I think).
Author's Note: I know this story has been done many times before and I apologise for dragging over old ground , but I was watching Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron with my sister and when I heard this song it made me think of Obi-Wan so much at this terrible time in his life that I had to write a story to go with it. Woefully unoriginal as it might be.


***


Sound the bugle now - play it just for me
As the seasons change - remember how I used to be
Now I can't go on - I can't even start
I've got nothing left - just an empty heart


I'm a soldier - wounded so I must give up the fight
There's nothing more for me - lead me away...
Or leave me lying here. . .


Silence.

Just the sound of the wind howling past the sandy walls of the hovel. And to the sole living occupant, it had the sound of a lonely instrument playing some lament for his ears only.

Obi-Wan gave a tired sigh as he lay quietly upon his hard cot. The sound was fitting somehow. A weary backdrop to the funeral he held in his hollowed heart. A funeral that would never cease as long as he carried on existing.

Anakin . . .

The name reverberated inside his aching mind and stung the mortal wounds across his soul.

He had lost him. His Padawan. His best friend. His brother.

He had failed him.

And in doing so had failed everyone and everything he had ever cared about.

The names of those fallen marched the unending paths through his thoughts each night and each burning day, pushing the dagger of guilt and grief ever further into his empty heart. They were there even now. Faces playing behind his eyes like a repeating holo. . .

Qui-Gon, Siri, Bant, Mace, all his dear friends, the Masters, the children . . . Anakin. . . Obi-Wan--

And it was true. For certain Obi-Wan had perished along with his brethren, in the very instant his lightsaber had scorched through Anakin?s flesh, dropping him to the furnace where he had watched him burn inside and out.

No, Obi-Wan Kenobi was dead and in his place stood Ben. A lonely hermit scratching a living from the parched sands. A mere shadow of the Jedi Master that had once been.

But he remembered. And, maybe, that was the cruellest curse of all.

He recalled his life before darkness descended.

Padawan to the great Qui-Gon Jinn. Master to the Chosen One. Him sitting on the Council among some of the most revered beings that had ever lived, startled and undeserving. His missions. His triumphs and failures. Joys and sorrows. And through it all the sound of a rich laugh at his side--

Choking back a sob, Obi-Wan buried his face in his dry hands, trying to shut everything out along with the accusing light streaming endlessly from the dusty window.

He did not know how his heart could carry on beating when it held this much pain. Especially when the body in which it resided could not even face the start of another morning.

What was he doing here anyway?

Guarding Luke? Ha! If the Empire wanted the infant then there was nothing a broken old hermit was going to do to stop them.

Obi-Wan dug his knuckles into his eyes. Trying to blot out the pain with the physical discomfort. All he wanted was for that dagger of grief in his heart to finish its business and finally kill him so he could be gone from this place.

But if the Force would not grant him that mercy then a least to be left alone to lie here with his memories; for that was punishment enough.

***

Sound the bugle now - tell them I don?t care,
There?s not a road I know - that leads to anywhere,
Without a light I fear that I will - stumble in the dark,
Lay right down - decide not to go on.

***

Night was falling steadily as Obi-Wan made it back acros

Breathtaking and totally awesome. I had tears in my eyes (well, would if I wasn't at work).

No. Obi-Wan Kenobi was dead and in his place stood Ben. A lonely old hermit, scratching a living off the desert. A mere shadow of the Jedi Master that had once been.

But he remembered. And, maybe, that was the cruellest curse of all. Truly magnificent writing there.

Through it all Qui-Gon remained silent, quietly filtering the calm of his presence into his Padawan's shattered soul, strengthening him until the tears ran their course and the last of the shuddering sobs left Obi-Wan's body

Such wonderful language you have used and painted an picture of utter grief and yet strength. Bravo!

An excellent Obi-Wan piece! I enjoyed this look at his early life on Tatooine very much.

Very well done. The song fit it very nicely!

Thanks everyone!

I love this line:

Amazing little story!

The echo of a hand pressed his shoulder in reassurance and Obi-Wan leaned into it, hungry for the comfort that he had been without for so long.
I loved lines like this!