Before - Legends The Lair's Xanatos Challenge Stories - Updated 11/20! VaderLVR

This Xan is creepy! Scary! I love him! You always write these vigs that leave me desperate for more of the story! You and Noi are rapidly becoming two of my favorite Xan writers. Great job!


edit: And it's an added bonus that the two of you rarely refer to him as Xani. blech!

 

Thanks for reading Noi and o_e

Upping so I maybe can read more Xan

 

This is pretty morbid but it's what my muse came up with.

The title are lyrics from a Greenday song.



The Innocent Can Never Last


Nigh time had descended on the Jedi Temple several hours ago, the majority of its residents sound asleep. Only a handful remained awake, their attention focused on finishing up the last bit if daily business. Their preoccupation made it easier for the robed figure to flit from one shadowed corner to another without being detected. Heavily shielded, he slipped into a waiting lift that carried him to the level reserved for the Order?s precious younglings.

Red-rimmed eyes held a slightly crazed gleam as he stared unseeingly at the control pad. He tried to ignore his bodies desperate cry for sleep and nourishment, centering his thoughts on the task ahead of him. His choice had been a difficult one to make, guilt and years of indoctrinated training a barrier between what was required, and what his heart kept telling him was wrong. Oh so wrong.

In the end his dreams had been the deciding factor. Even now they replayed in his mind like a skipping holo, eliciting a painful throbbing at the base of his skull. The familiar avalanche of emotions engulfed him as the images flashed by at dizzying speed.

His mentor stared down at him with a look trapped somewhere between disappointment and shame. Neither were familiar to either of them since feelings of pride and affection had been the basis for their relationship all along. Suddenly he was presented with a broad back as his teacher and father-figure turned to walk away. Before he knew it, his glowing blue blade was activated and he was launching himself at the Jedi Master who spun around with a devastated expression of shock twisting his regale features.

He watched from his hiding place as the Jedi swept past. His former mentor moved with long legged strides, graceful even after all these years. Following close on his heels was a young boy who struggled to keep up. Golden-red hair was cut into spikes, a pair of luminous blue-gray eyes sparkling with excitement. The child?s physical beauty rivaled his own, but the inner glow outshone everyone. Through the Force the boy fairly radiated Light, blinding in its intensity.

It was at that moment that he?d begun to experience feelings of fear and jealousy. This boy, whoever he was, would be the key to his downfall. A mere child would replace him, stripping him of everything he?d worked so hard to gain. He wouldn?t, couldn?t, stand idly by and allow that to happen.

All that stood between him and the future was a door. Black-gloved fingers trembled as he pressed the code he?d charmed from a young creche helper. All it had required to gain her trust had been a flutter of long ebony lashes and a feather light kiss on her cheek. Shoulders pulled back, he slipped inside, careful to lock the door securely behind him.

A quick scan of the room assured him that only one of the rooms two beds was currently occupied. The top of a small head was all that was visible above the blankets, reddish-gold curls gleaming in the dim glow of a nightlight. Hands clenching at his sides, he took the few steps necessary to bring him to the side of the bed. His face felt enflamed as he stared down on his sleeping target. Now that the time was here, he was once again consumed with doubts.

The noise was no louder than the coo of a tiny bird, the boy?s head suddenly popping up without warning. Breath caught in his throat, he stood frozen in place as a pair of sleep laden eyes settled on his face in curiosity. As the slumberous haze departed, the child lifted outstretched arms, a cherubic grin lighting up pale features. Forcing his legs to obey, he stumbled forward and dropped down on the edge of the bed, the boy climbing onto his lap without invitation.

He drew the small body close with one arm, the other moving down to finger the razor sharp dagger at his side. In order to still the chorus of voices that screamed for him to reconsider his next actions, his mind once aga

 

More Xan from you! I thought I had gone to heaven That whole story had a sad, dream like quality

It was mid-way through that I remembered this was the 'first kill' challenge, and my heart jumped! I had a feeling I knew where you were going with this. That dream was so sad! The conflicted feelings Xan had throughout it and then the dagger...

Very evil, o_e!

I'm getting addicted to these you know,

 

Loved it o_e! I'll come back later and leave remarks for everyone else! I'm supposed to be cleaning house right now.

 

Yay, you wrote it.

Xan would be so obsessed if he had a dream like that - that he falls and some other padawan takes his place. I wonder if he would think that the events on Telos were linked to Obi-Wan? And it was so calculated - charming the door codes off of the creche helper and sneaking in there at night.

And you have to go describe baby Obi with curls and cherubic features. I still can't believe he killed him.

 

New Challenge: Redeeming the Fallen One: What would it take to get Xan to return to the Light? Would it be an event? A person? And would he be willing? Or fight it? Write a vig that shows Xan's redemption.

 

Okay - this is my first challenge response, as well as my first post on this thread. Hello, everyone...I've read some vignettes here that are absolutely wonderful. So, I'm almost ashamed to put mine up here. I'm not entirely, or even mostly, happy with it, but...it's a start. I look forward to reading everyone else's.

My Own Curse

It seems to me that some people are blessed throughout life, in everything they attempt ? that they are so gifted with good fortune, it nearly inspires one to believe in such a phenomenon as being born under a good star. My old Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, is one such person.

Others, I think, are cursed; doomed to fight their way through life, thwarted in everything they try to accomplish, embittered by failure and defeat. And as I, Xanatos, sit in this tiny apartment, staring blankly at the sleeping form of my child, who I never knew existed until today, I no longer doubt that I am one of the unfortunate. Even worse: I am one of them that curse themselves. For I can no longer deceive myself; I have made my own curse, and am forced to live with it, like a specter of the unquiet dead laughing mockingly over my shoulder.

I laugh softly at the unintentional irony. The unquiet dead, indeed. My father. My wife. Force! My wife, Sanna...probably the only person in the galaxy who ever really loved me ? what a fool she was. I can still hear her voice?

?Xanatos, won?t you stay in tonight?? she?d ask, blind hope in her eyes. Above all, hope is blind. It denies the obvious, allowing the hopeful their unattainable dreams. ?The weather?s horrid ? and there?s going to be a special Coruscant feature on the HoloNet tonight. You know, I?ve always wanted to visit there. We could watch it together.?

As if I would have been interested in watching the HoloNet.

?No,? I?d reply shortly, ?I need to take care of some business.? And take care of business I would ? in a violent and satisfying way. She never knew what sordid things I did for my Offworld corporation, of course. I made sure never to let slip a hint of my numerous illegal dealings, and she never asked after my whereabouts.

As irrational as she was, I believe nontheless that my feelings for her were as close to love as I, perhaps, have ever come. But now she has died ? and I am alone, with this boy who bears, with remarkable similarity, my own features.

Astounding, that she should call my personal comlink on her deathbed; begging me to return and care for this small boy, after I had been absent from her life for over three years. Amazing, that she should place such implicit trust in me.

And so here I am, standing watch in a silent midnight vigil. Unable to sleep, I sit pondering my life, a veritable series of failures, and Sanna?s funeral held earlier today, the whole event permeated with a sense of unreality. Remembering her ? and wondering if it is possible that I truly loved her, after all. What else could this dull, numbing ache result from? This emptiness in my chest?

It?s impossible, I tell myself. I cast out and buried alive my heart years ago; it was a weakness. I filled the cavity with spite: with anger and hate against the man who callously killed my father, even as I watched silently in disbelief.

But regardless of that, my throat closes to think of the way Sanna would smile when I walked through the door, and the ridiculously exalted view she held of me.

I drop my weary head into my hands and sigh.

No matter how many times I demonstrated my scorn for her, that woman?s faith in me never wavered. Never mind that ours was a marriage of convenience: that she was no more to me than a step up on the ladder of wealth and power. I have never known what honorable attribute, what noble trait it was that she thought she glimpsed in me. To her very death, she considered me to be the epitome of a good man ? a bit cold, perhaps, but good, beneath my brusque shell. Or perhaps I am wrong; perhaps she saw more than I knew or guessed, and hoped that

 

Artanis First off, welcome to the boards! Secondly, thanks for joining in with the Xan challenge. He's so under-appreciated around here.

Excellent way to jump right in! This was a very moving vig and I loved that it was his son that melted his reserve and gave him hope for the future. His attitude toward the boys mother was so Xan. You seemt o have a handle on his character. Bravo!

 

I really, really enjoyed this POV of Xanatos. You made the shift in him quite believable, and very emotional. Great job.

 

Welcome Artanis! What a beautiful way to kick-off this challenge. I loved his feelings over his son.

 

Welcome Artanis

A beautifully written story! I enjoyed having Xan come to terms with his life, and his new-found son. Hope to read more from you.

 

Alright, here's my attempt Umm...a bit dark, you may not want to read before breakfast.

Fulfillment

"If you would just stop struggling Obi-Wan, it will go much easier."

Obi-Wan looked up to see those persistent blue eyes peering into his own, beckoning him, threatening him, wanting him to become his own. Since Xanatos had finally removed the binder from around his mouth, Obi-Wan spoke through dry lips. "I've told you many times, Xan, you'll have to kill me." This time was different however and they both felt it. Obi-Wan was becoming angry, and each utterance by Xanatos seemed only to aggravate his fragile grasp on sanity.

"The great Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi." Xanatos mused, as he leaned against the far wall, casually peering down at his captive. "You know as well as I, you can never live up to that. Do the Jedi understand the pain? Could they ever understand what you've endured the last month?" He moved down to his captive and caressed Obi-Wan's face.

Obi-Wan flinched and Xanatos smiled down at him. "My poor Obi-Wan," Xanatos continued. "You are so close to the truth. And yet," his hand came down a bound shoulder, "you choose not to see."

Closing his eyes, Obi-Wan hoped the nightmare would disappear. But instead, the breath came closer to his face. "Is it so much to ask? One time to release your emotions? Do it," the voice now came close to his ear, "and I'll release you."

Involuntarily a tear came down Obi-Wan's cheek and Xanatos wiped it away. "You can do it, Obi-Wan. Let me help you."

Obi-Wan felt himself nodding, wanting out of this hell he had been placed and he could feel Xanatos starting to release the bonds around his arms and legs. A feeling of dread pierced him as he opened his eyes, and saw the exhilaration bounding from those dark blue eyes. Obi-Wan could feel the blood and feeling cascading back to his hands and fingers, and the relief of the pressure on his wrists. For a brief hopeful moment he glanced around the dim room, to see where to run to.

There was no place to run. Obi-Wan sighed and rested his head back against the wall.

As if to move in for the kill, Xanatos sat beside him, and wrapped his arm around Obi-Wan's shoulders. "I can help you, Obi-Wan." This time he did not tense at Xanatos' touch. It was a fact that had become a part of his reality. Xanatos drew in a long breath. "Let's not pretend."

Obi-Wan looked at him and Xanatos drew him nearer. "You only have to remember that one time, where you truly let the darkness in. Yes, when Qui-Gon died? That will be the one,. If Qui-Gon only knew he would be the key to your downfall."

Xanatos stroked his hair, and he could do nothing. The memory welled up involuntarily and Obi-Wan could once again feel the excitement exuding from his captor. "That's it, Obi-Wan," Xanatos crooned.

He had been right, Obi-Wan thought, so much easier not to struggle. The darkness came so easily with each touch, and each word that came from Xanatos. "I have so much to teach you."

*****

Xanatos didn't know where he had broken him, but Obi-Wan did not leave his side since that night. His mind had become dark, and he had accepted his teachings. And though the Jedi were locked in deadly battle with the Separatists, Obi-Wan no longer thought of his comrades. Xanatos had become his world.

With one beckon of his hand, Obi-Wan came to his side. "My apprentice, are you ready to prove your worthiness to serve me?"

"Yes, Master." Xanatos smiled at those small words, that had been so difficult to extract. But even as he reveled in his victory, he almost missed the resistance that had been at the core of Obi-Wan's spirit.

But there was no going back. Obi-Wan would soon be his completely. "I want you to kill Anakin Skywalker. The last bond of your past must be destroyed. Do you understand?"

A coldness had come over those grey blue eyes, and Xanatos reveled in how perfectly he had reconstructed the Jedi. "I understa

 

That was wonderful! I can just see Xan regretting what he'd created. He had Obi but not the true version. I just love that this was what brought him back. Excellent!

 

Thanks, everyone, for the encouragement. It means a lot to me.

tangled_sphere, that was amazing. What a fascinating premise. I could feel the darkness, especially when Obi-Wan fell and actually murdered Anakin.

My favorite part was the last two lines: The darkness did not fulfill him, but something else would.

He only had to find it.


Very eloquent.

 

Finally got to read this t_s.

He finally conquered Obi-Wan only to find out that they only way to possess him was to destroy him completely. And now he is all alone.

 

Here is my attempt. It may be a little rough because I decided to experiment with tense and POV.

To Calm the Raging Sea

I pivot ever so slightly back in forth in my chair, an outward manifestation of the restlessness within my soul. The luxurious trappings of my office, dripping with their comfort and extravagance do little to calm me. Such opulence has become commonplace, ordinary to me. So I gaze out through the pristine glass of the large picture window able to see the foaming waves of a stormy sea wash upon the beach. The sure and steady approach and retreat of the surf is hypnotic ? calming. It is why I have come to this home in particular, hoping to find some measure of peace away from the realities of life.

I know it is a futile attempt at best. The unease in my soul is an outgrowth of turbulence, disturbance in the Force and I fail to understand what it is trying to tell me. The Darkness encroaches on me, tormenting me, and I find that I have yearned for the Light more lately than in all the years since I fell, since ?

I banish memories that serve no constructive purpose other than to ignite my rage and return my attention to the rushing ocean waters. I marvel at the pounding surf as it claws at the sand, dragging some of it captive back out to sea. The raw power that lays waste to the shore is so beautiful and so simple in its monotony.

The intercom buzzes, pulling me from my musings. Oh lovely, I have a guest. Why is it they have found me here of all places, in my refuge? Is there no place in this wretched galaxy to where I can escape? I ask for my guest, or rather my intruder, to be turned away and continue my vigil. A large wind has come, further upsetting the ocean as evidenced by the rippled surface and the growing height of white-capped swells.

I hear the door open and turn to scold my servant for his interruption. Instead, my eyes meet his. I don?t recognize him at first, although the mundane brown and beige fabric and simple attire of a Jedi is unmistakable. And as I probe into the depths of blue and gray, I am able to pick out the child I remember within. The rage inside me swells and I find myself already on my feet calling to my saber through the Force.

Comforting cool metal hits my hand as my servant cowers and flees. I stare my opponent down, yet he makes no move and says nothing. He merely stands and looks at me with an unnerving calm that makes him seem older than I know him to be.

?I would think you staff would have stronger minds,? he states simply. ?Please don?t punish him. He was only doing as I suggested.? The impish grin that many might find endearing only serves to inflame me.

?How dare you?? I snarl. I compose my own features, flashing him a grin of my own. ?Have you come to arrest me now that the ruse is up, now that you know I?m alive??

?I never fell for your show on Telos. You are too meticulous to fail so easily.?

?So you decide to show up now after lulling me into a false sense of security over the years,? I continue to spit out in bitterness, writhing rage clawing at me to be released.

?I have no illusions of taking you anywhere,? he says solemnly. ?I merely come to deliver a message.?

I place my hands on my desk and lean in so there is no mistake I am disgusted by his sheer presence. ?Well then, by all means, deliver the message so I can show you the door.?

I turn my back to him, not willing to give his message my full attention and also wanting to show him I am not afraid. I hear him approach and set something on my desk. The object rolls and I turn instinctively to catch it before it falls to the floor.

It is a saber hilt. My hands tremble ever so slightly as I recognize the familiar design. It couldn?t be the same saber that took my father?s life so many years ago. Jedi, especially Jedi like my former mentor, lose their weapons routinely, but Jinn?s replacements were always the same.

?Perhaps you can find some peace now that he?s gone.? The words, offered bitt

 

Oh my. This was truly wonderful Noi. Why is it that so many of these vigs I can see as long stories? His reaction to Jinn's death was perfect, I don't think he'd feel much remorse. And I loved that he was able to see Anakin's potential for turning. His last offer darn near broke my heart!

 

Noi, that was well done, I felt like I was right there along with Xan! And his reaction to Obi-Wan and Anakin was wonderful! And that offer...

(Loved the present tense! Well done!)

I agree, I just don't want this to end!

 

Oh, Noi, that was so lovely.

?The Sith are extinct.? The churnings of Darkness I have felt of late confirm the truth even as I interrupt him spewing out my contest of his claim.

?I beg to differ,? he replies calmly.

I loved the 'beg to differ'. It was so simple, but so full of everything he's went through, if that makes sense.

I it!

 

Great opening.

I no longer doubt that I am one of the unfortunate. Even worse: I am one of them that curse themselves. For I can no longer deceive myself; I have made my own curse, and am forced to live with it, like a specter of the unquiet dead laughing mockingly over my shoulder.[/quote]"Specter of the unquiet dead", eh? Very evocative description that.

Shades of Turin and Finduilas..

Very well done there. You can practically feel his engrained cynicism dripping off of the screen.

Poor girl.

A hardened cynic cannot understand faith, it seems.

I know what he means.

And now he slowly comes to see how blessed he truly was by her love, only after she's been taken from him.

In most cases such as this, he'd probably be right, but I'm glad he's not.

 

ALL of these were simply wonderful!

 

October challenge: In honor of Halloween, the October challenge is to write a spooky, creepy, scary vig! Xan doesn't have to be the Evil Spooky One, he just has to be the main focus of the vig.

 

*stares in shock at QM in Before the Saga*

Thanks.

A bit melodramatic, maybe...but I was feeling quite angsty.

Could be that Tolkien has had a more extensive effect on my writing than I thought.

Thanks. It was very...freeing, writing a character who doesn't necessarily have to be likeable. Maybe that's strange.

Yeah; I wish she could've been happier.

No, he can't. It's a trust that takes place on a fundamental level he doesn't understand, any more. Maybe he never did.

I've never been to a funeral that seemed totally real.

Precisely. He could have been helped, perhaps, by a sharp blow to the head.

It's pretty sad. *sniff* I haven't read this in a while.

Thank you, so much. I'm glad it was relatively believable.

Maybe someday, when I have more experience. Xanatos is such an interesting character to write, and I want to do it right.

I really appreciate your review, Quiet_Mandalorian. You ought to stop by here more often; Before is a great place.

 

Title: Shattered
Author: Master_Noi
Timeframe: 2 years post TPM
Disclaimer: The usual disclaimers apply.

**I don't know how spooky or creepy this is, it keeps evolving and growing in length. I am going to go ahead and post it before I tweak it to death.

Flashes of blue and a peculiar red glow penetrated the darkness from the upper window, made eerie by the obscuring wisps of fog and clouds that partially masked the bright moonlight. The servants heard cries of, ?go,? and ?leave me,? in an unusual, bone-chilling blend of anger and terror, but made no move to see to their master. If it was trouble he could not manage, they would be of little use, and an unwelcome intrusion could be equally as dangerous for them.

It grew quiet, deadly calm in the absence of crashing and shattering, and they gathered at the foot of the stairs, waiting. He would call soon for something. But he never emerged, and finally one of the braver, one who had served him longest started the hesitant trek up the stairs. He knocked on door softly.

?My Lord??

Casting a worried backwards glance down the staircase, he turned to the door, gathering himself up as though preparing to accept his fate. He pushed it open, shoving hard to topple a piece of furniture that had come to rest in the way and reached for the lights, jiggling the switch in futility. There was nothing to ward off the darkness.

Cautious steps took him through the litter of splintered wood, well-polished shoes crunching shattered glass beneath his feet. A crisp gust of wind blast through the jagged remnants of the large window and he cradled his arms against his body guarding against the chill.

As his eyes adjusted, he could see the remnants of what seemed to be a great battle. The fine, heavy velvet drapes usually falling over the window now hung in smoldering shreds and long gouges snaked along the walls, burned in deeply. A figure was huddled in the corner, arms folded over his head, and the servant ran to him squatting down to rest a hand on slumped shoulders.

?My Lord,? the servant said, distancing himself as the figure jumped and looked up, panic deeply set in pools of midnight blue.

?Is it gone??

The voice was small and feeble, a disconcerting contrast to the control and authority that always echoed through usually silky tones. Blood still oozed from fresh cuts along his face and arms.

?Has what gone?? He looked on in puzzlement as his employer glanced nervously around him, his gaze darting to all corners of the room. ?Are you well, My Lord? You act as though you?ve gone mad.?

The panic dissipated from his gaze, anger churning and bubbling up from darkening depths. ?I am not crazy.?

With no warning, a powerful surge of energy threw the servant back towards the wall as lightening shot from pale, slender fingertips before the wielder collapsed into an exhausted heap.

***

Xanatos stood at the window, arms crossed loosely in front of his lean, well-muscled form. Blue skies, sturdy trees with brilliant green leaves, and warm bright sunlight ? things he usually paid little attention to ? lingered just out of his reach. Glass was the only things that separated him from freedom. Actually, he knew it wasn?t glass, it most likely a good 10 centimeters of transparisteel.

He turned around, repulsed at his accommodations. The room was stark white, so white that the glare and brightness hurt his eyes. If he weren?t insane before coming in, the complete lack of color would certainly do the job. Everything in the room was bolted to the floor. They had told him that it was for his safety and theirs, so he couldn?t use anything as a weapon. He had to laugh to himself at that assertion. He still had access to the Force. If he wanted to be, he was the most dangerous weapon in the room.

The door opened abruptly and loudly heralding a visitor. Would it hurt to at least knock before busting in? Certainly the staff had manners. A tall, well-dressed man entered and Xanatos took a seat on the bed.

?I would tell you