The Hardest Lesson - Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan - JA

Wonderful post, CYN . You do complexity so well - complexity of plot, complexity of character, complexity of action. I can see everything you describe in such detail.

I'm still amazed with your writing. Every word - no matter how many there are - has such depth and is so enjoyable to read. You don't just write stories, you paint pictures poetically. And I am really looking forward to the next part.

 

Ahhh, wonderful, as always. But, a crazy little thought is blossoming in my mind and, try as I may, I cannot get it to leave me be. What if Nemis is the one behind all these attacks? What if she wants to spare Trell the misery of isolation that she had to endure? ::shrug:: Oh well, insanity has it's perks - rambling might not be one, though. So, again, simply lovely post, Cyn, can't wait for your next!

 

::runs in::

Wow, CYN! You're posting here?!?! I never thought I'd see the day!

::stares at the screen, speechless:: [face_shocked]

Um. . .for lack of sounding coherent, WOW. This is a wonderful story, and I can't figure out whether I like or hate Trell yet! Despite the rating of these boards, you still manage to paint a delicious picture of Obi. ::shakes head sadly:: I SO evny you.

Please post more soon!

EJ (who is crossing her fingers, hoping that ff.net will be up again soon)

 

Ohhhhhhh


just one bit of confusion. Is she an only child, or does she have a younger sister?

 

Rich descriptions, sharp and witty dialogue, Obi outnumbered eight to one, in his lightsaber fighting glory...if not for the vibroblade in the back, I'd be in heaven with this enchanting story where a youthful, duty-bound and clearly smitten Jedi escorted then ballroom danced with the beautiful but begrudging soon to be coronated Queen. Great post!

 

Mmmm. Stabbed in the back. I like where this is going.

 

Kitara et al, who might have been confused - this is how the royal succession goes: the Queen will have two daughters, who will, in turn, each bear a daughter and a son. Kyri is - for the moment - a constitutional matriarchal monarchy, meaning only females are allowed to ascend to the throne, and only in alternate generations, through the retirement of the former queen - thus (supposedly) insuring stability in the realm. The two daughters of the queen each having a daughter is to insure that (hopefully) at least one of the two survives to maturity to assume the throne. Sons, on the other hand, are appointed to serve as Senators to represent Kyri in the Republican ruling body.

And, yes, Trell is an only child - because her mother died in an accident before bearing a son, as tradition requires. Maliyah is her first cousin - daughter of her mother's younger sister.

Clear as mud, huh? I don't know how I get myself into these convoluted situations; some might think I have a warped mind.

 

Clear as mud, huh? I don't know how I get myself into these convoluted situations; some might think I have a warped mind. >>

Wherever would one get such a crazy idea?

Heheh

-Tim

 

*rocks back and forth* Need post...need post...

 

OK - for those who maintain that I couldn't do a short post if my life depended on it - AHEM - prepare to eat crow. And it doesn't matter in the least that it was supposed to be a lot longer, but I'm short on time, so thought I'd just get some of it up anyway.

Would love to have sufficient time to reply to all the lovely posts - but THE JOB is just killing me this week. Soon, I hope. In the meantime, huge thank yous to you all.

CYN



************ ************** *************

The darkness was very thick - like heavy, black smoke - but it smelled somehow warm - almost sweet - and coppery. And there was a curious reverberation that seemed to ring through it - accentuating the rhythmic thump in his head.

Dark and heavy - but somewhere - very near - there was an exquisite sharpness - a flaming torment that would pierce his darkness - if he let it - just as easily as it had pierced bone and sinew.

Better to hug the darkness; better to refuse to hear the sibilant drone that was, at first, just a meaningless buzz - until sounds became words. Still meaningless, if one remained in a fugue state - but recognizable at some level.

"Mumble, mumble - damn, damn, damn! Who knew . . ."

"Too fast. Never saw any . . . like that."

" . . . remembered. Kid or not - he's Jedi, and . . ."

Then came a bolt of pure agony as something heavy and solid connected with the back of a head that already felt as if someone had used it as a bass drum.

"Don't kill him, you fool! You want the Jedi here for . . ."

" . . . won't ever back off if we kill one of . . ."

" . . locked tight. I can't . . ."

" . . too much blood. He doesn't look so good. Why'd you stick him with . . ."

Then - from much farther away - the depths of space, maybe, or a moon, at least - came a flurry of sounds and voices and rough shouts, followed by the unmistakable clatter of running feet - and, nearer at hand, scuffling sounds, a few grunts, and - finally - hoarse curses.

"It's no use; it'll never open. Let's go."

"But . . ."

"If they catch us, it's all over. Now let's go."

Obi-Wan winced. He didn't usually mind if the neighbors got a little rowdy; he had, after all, been known to achieve rowdiness himself, once or twice in his past. But they were really, really pushing it by being so loud!

He should just get up and march over there, and tell them . . .tell them . . . it was suddenly, beautifully quiet - and he found that he now had no idea what he wanted to tell . . or who he wanted to tell it to.

He sighed and settled back into the lovely, warm cradle of sleep - except that it wasn't so warm any more. In fact, it was becoming downright cold. Well, wasn't that just perfect! Once the yelling had finally stopped, something else just had to crop up to keep him from resting comfortably. He was really beginning to be annoyed.

And cold!

What else, he wondered - semi-coherent - would happen to keep him from the sleep he so desperately needed; the sleep that called to him like the sweet song of a siren, beckoning him into lands of dark warm delights, from which he might never want to return.

The chill was growing worse - and he knew that he would have to get up soon, to fetch a blanket - or light a fire, perhaps. Soon - he would do that soon. But, for now, if he just pulled his body tight around his center - and held himself close, he would stave off the creeping cold, for a bit longer. He would just catch a nap now - ignoring a numbness that was creeping over him. Maybe that would turn out to be a good thing; it would keep him from noticing the cold so much.

*************** *****************


Lord Kaffia was kind enough to take the Queen in hand, once she had been extracted from the sheltered space beneath the banquet table where Qui-Gon had shoved her when the bomb went off. She was disheveled and dusty and bruised - but mostly, she was simply infuriated - loudly - abusively - verbally infuriated.

Until she was informed of the attempt on

 

MMMMMM....crow isn't bad, really. Tried grilling it with some cajun seasoning and was better than I expected.

Hmmmm.....interesting post, this. And the plot thickens...and thickens...

-Tim

 

So you resolve the Obi-Wan in mortal danger cliffhanger, only to leave us with yet another one? Oh well...

Cyn, your writing is amazing, so beautiful to read. Not to mention you do write a marvelous picture of Obi-Wan... wounded or otherwise.

 

My fingers are all shaky now, CYN! I knew he'd survive, but it was so... and I felt so.... I'm... It's.... AMAZING! Truly amazing. You never cease to impress me.

*takes a deep breath* Ok, I need to calm down, now.

 

Cyn your version of short is a little long

But always completely welcome

Ahh it all seems so happy but just wait. BAM! No more spontaneous bursting into song.

*allows the men in white coats to take her away*

What? It's NOT Disney!

*leaves*

 

Like warm milk left out on a hot day - the plot thickens.

 

Obi did hear some of what the attackers said. But why would they want the Jedi there?

This is very intriguing. I loved your description of Obi's confusion, and Qui's concern and care for his apprentice was touching.

Post again soon!

 

Alright, Alright, your going to put CYN in sugar shock

Wonderful warm post CYN. When you like Qui it really shows, and boy does it ever show when you don't

Interesting that Trell was able to link telepathically with both Obi and Qui. Can't wait to hear what was whispered in Obi's ear and what is really going on.

Its almost friday too, and I'm really looking forward to your next post of AUF

 

Lying in a pool of blood may not sound very appealing, but it's vastly entertaining to read how an weak, mildly peeved Obi, with some prompting and desperately needed healing force energy from his master, turned what could have been a life threatening situation into a "nothing I can't handle" romp.

Very nice master/apprentice exchange indicative of Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon's obviously strong bond together.

Trell's gentle smooch and quietly conveyed intimate message was touchingly sweet. Might she have whispered those "three special words" that immediately sent the injured Jedi's mind into a life altering tizzy before sleep overtook him?

 

Great post, CYN!

::wipes sweat from brow:: Geez, you had me worried there for a minute!

More soon??

EJ

 

What a wonderful treat Cyn. Life is always better when I get a post per day on one of your stories.

So now it's time for the utterly shameless begging (truly shameless since I know that you have no control in the matter)- please please please do I get to read the next chapter of AUF as a birthday present tomorrow?

 

Cyn, your descriptions of the Jedi's use of the force is always facinating. Btw since Obi is not quite human, what is he?, part human-part angel? just wondering. 7

 

I swear I blinked and then was three pages behind

Wow! I know that seems rather inarticulate, but it's the best I can do at the moment.

What a feast you have laid out before us with stunningly vivid visual imagery and beautifully developed characters, and such a wonderful rendition of the ever stoic Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn. Wow!

Okay, I'm hooked. Patiently waiting for FF.Net to come back up to check out your other work

Rogue

 

::stammers incohearantly::

I'm still flabergasted...

 

Gercian, the Kyrian physician, stood before the bacta tank, arms folded, trying for a look of solemnity. Mostly though, he only managed to look annoyed.

"You know," he said sharply, "if I could bottle whatever it was that you did to him . . ."

"You'd be a very rich man," replied Qui-Gon, with a disingenuous smile. "Yes, I know."

"I don't suppose it's something you could . . teach."

The Master was forced to grin in response to the young physician's brazen attitude. "Afraid not."

Gercian sighed. "Didn't think so."

Qui-Gon turned and gazed up into the rosy liquid in which his padawan floated - and was confronted with two very sharp, very belligerent, very blue-green eyes. Obi-Wan, obviously, was no longer in pain; was aware that his injury had been healed; and was no more patient being submerged in this tank, than in any of the other dozen or so he had visited in the course of his young life.

"Still," continued the physician, looking around at the luxury suite in which the tank had been placed, "it was almost worth it. Never thought I'd get a chance to see the inside of the palace. He must really rate - to have a bacta tank hauled in here just for him."

Qui-Gan took a deep breath. "Doctor, Jedi donot rate - but he was injured in the defense of the crown princess - and Queen Nemis was - understandably - grateful."

The Kyrian turned back and looked up at the face of his patient - and had to fight down an urge to fidget. "I thought Jedi were supposed to be - calm, and all that."

"Whenever possible," replied the Master.

"Yeah, well, then why does he look like he's ready to throw an embolism or something?"

Qui-Gon folded his arms into the sleeves of his cape - his normal, voluminous, slightly frayed, everyday cape - that felt so wonderful and soothing after the stiffness of his formal wear - and smiled. "He doesn't like bacta."

The physician studied the fine-boned young face carefully. "I'd guess that would be an understatement," he said finally. "I'd guess he really hates it."

The Master allowed his gaze to dwell on the rising impatience in his padawan's eyes before replying, "And you'd be exactly right. If you're quite sure that he's sufficiently healed, I suggest we get him out of there - while the tank is still in one piece."

"He wouldn't!" gasped the physician, eyes growing wide and filling with something very like panic.

Qui-Gon shrugged lightly. "Once on Fharsia Prime, there was an incident. Of course, the tank was old, and not one of the newer, stronger models - but he pretty much made kindling out of it."

"MEDIC!" The physician's call with short and sharp. "Get the patient out of there - NOW!"

The Master glanced once more into eyes the color of the seas of Alderaan - and concealed a grin when he spied the twinkle in them. If I get a reputation for being a difficult patient, it's all your fault.

And the Master - completely charmed, but totally undone by the tone of innocence in that cultured voice - laughed aloud, inspiring the Kyrian physician to look at him with obvious suspicion.

Oh, no, my Padawan. That is one distinction you have managed to earn quite on your own - without benefit of a single lesson from me.

As Obi-Wan was lifted from the gelatinous fluid, Qui-Gon waited with a huge, fluffy towel.

Both the medical technicians and the brash young physician seemed to sense, once the boy was free of the tank, that their services had become superfluous. Curiously, for someone so relentlessly brash up until that moment, the doctor took a moment to cup Obi-Wan's face with a remarkably gentle hand. "Rest," he said softly, "whether you think you need it - or not."

As he and his assistants made their exit from the luxurious suite, he glanced back to see his patient being handled as gently as if he had been made of the finest crystal. The Jedi Master, effortlessly, eased the boy into the lush linens of the over-sized bed, and then sat to finish drying the traces of bacta from the slender body.