Saga The Cell (Obidala, Ep. III AU, very dark - Complete. Vignette added July 14, 2005)

It can't possibly be long now, because I beta'ed it and sent it back to her and so...

am I putting pressure on you , Master?

It has been the usual month anyway.

(damn cheeky Padawan!)

 

*too tired to thwack cheeky Padawan* Thanks, solojones. And yes, Jedikma did a lovely beta job. (You so get my concepts.) Leia_naberrie got back super-quick, too.

Anywho. Pulled neck really really bad. Currently high as kite. When I reach the ground again, I'll post.



And reply to 4 PM's. When reach ground will do that too.

 

I have author's notes - thank you to Jedikma and leia_naberrie for beta'ing, so kindly and quickly. I appreciate it! I also erroneously said to someone that I've taken a psychology class, when I really meant to say I haven't. Sorry about that. I just go by what I know of human nature, here. And another thing, someone (I forget who, too lazy to look up now) said I write intangibles really well. Whoever said that, a lot of this post is inspired by that comment. Intangible. I like that word.

Still fuzzy in the head, but resting helped, which is why I'm posting. Um, what else? Oh, not high as a kite, just slightly off-kilter, like I am when I haven't slept for 24+ hours. Hehe, I was so weird then . . . [edit] I just realized it's been almost a month to the day when I edited the title. How strange. Kma is observant.

Feedback is appreciated, treasured and utterly adored!


^~~~~~^


Faith.


She felt what he wanted her to feel.

Like velvet. Stars were the glitter on the tips of its curves, from light outside. The velvet sky was a deep purple, not black, and the stars always twinkled with laughter, even in the depth of space. The planets were terrifying in their beauty, whirling past her at brilliant speeds. Some stark and silent, and eerily right in their own way, some green and teeming with life, and others mixtures of orange and yellow and turquoise, all those strange colors you could never imagine on your own.

He whispered it all into her ear, and she closed her eyes, seeing it all.

^~~~~~^

It was hard not to scratch her own skin. She paced restlessly, muscles spasming in tension. One block and another and another, and she couldn?t help herself from thinking about it, and it all added up relentlessly.

She wanted to tear it off. Tear. Tears. ?Obi-Wan?? Her voice sounded desperate even to herself.

?Yes? Padmé?? A few quick steps and she felt his hand settle on her shoulder.

Is it possible to feel claustrophobic in your own skin? she wondered.

?Padmé??

?Knock me out. Use the Force. Whatever. Just do it, please,? she whispered, grabbing his arm and tightening until she knew it was painful.

?Padmé ? no ??

?Yes!?

?I can?t get out,? she breathed.

He touched her forehead gently, and her thoughts slowed, became drowsy, then stopped altogether.

He wouldn?t do this for her again. There was no one to do it for him.

^~~~~~^

Still talking to her, he took her hand, telling how soft the silk of her gown felt, how smooth and clean. He was behind her, one hand settled on her waist, the other gently massaging her palm. He pushed against her, telling her to take a step, and she did; and when she did, it was not the stone of the cell that she felt beneath her feet, but the warm tile that led to her balcony.

And outside, on the balcony, velvet skies shone with sparkling stars.

^~~~~~^

Intangible.

Padmé lay next to him, half on top of him, her head on his chest and one arm casually thrown over. She was warm, and the curve of her back where his hand rested was beautiful. So relaxed, amazing, even now. He could feel her rise with his each breath, could match his breathing to hers. She was asleep. They no longer slept separately. He was awake, staring up.

The Force was intangible. Inexplicable. The Jedi pretended to understand it, but they didn?t, not really. Not that the Sith had any better of an understanding ? or that he did. He remembered, vaguely, Yoda saying something similar to him once. And the saying went through his head, like clockwork: The more you know, the more you realize how little you know.

Padmé was intangible. In a different way, in an odd way, but she was. He could feel her, touch her, but her mind amazed him. Her spirit, her personality, what made her . . . her. It was beautifully strange and alluring. She had such strength. She broke, she cried, but she rebuilt herself. And how . . . was intangible.

Obi-Wan wasn?t intangible. He knew when h

 

Finally a post

love your story well i love obidalas and this is one of the best i've read more soon please

 

That was soo sweet! The two! Great work! Loved the part of Obi breaking down, but in an organized manner 'so Obi-Wanish' hehehehe

 

Its very hard in this post to find favorites because they all were. Everything here was perfect in word choice, descriptions, feelings, etc.

Padmé was intangible. In a different way, in an odd way, but she was. He could feel her, touch her, but her mind amazed him. Her spirit, her personality, what made her . . . her. It was beautifully strange and alluring. She had such strength. She broke, she cried, but she rebuilt herself. And how . . . was intangible.

Obi-Wan wasn?t intangible. He knew when he broke, he couldn?t put himself back together like Padmé could. He?d averted it, somewhat, learning as Padmé did to adapt to this environment. But where she found comfort in hope, in the little things, Obi-Wan couldn?t grasp that intangible thing. He was ? limited. Why had he once thought, that with the Force he could see more than most?

He stroked Padmé?s back. She felt so real when he touched her. She inhaled, exhaled. Inhale. Inhale. He never wanted her to just exhale.

With only a few words you have described both of them . That very last line was wonderful.

It was getting harder to remember. Things once familiar became unfamiliar, blurred in the attempt to recall them properly.

Obi-Wan knew that if the reality of the outside universe was fading for him, it surely was for Padmé. He could, with his training, recall things with perfect clarity, every moment sharp and clear, as cutting as a blade. All Jedi could. He wasn?t sure when he had stopped trying to remember, except that it was gradual, happening less and less often. And now, when he tried to remember, the memory was . . . distant. Fading in the way of a dream, where everything is perfect when you first wake, but as time goes on it leaves you, even as you frantically try to grasp what remains. It wasn?t the clarity that was leaving him, it appeared to be his ability to connect to what he was remembering.

Here I like this paragraph because it makes us realize even more I think, of them living right now in like some sort of bubble protected in a way from the outside, here they are safe in a world created just for them thru their own minds, feelings, memories etc. (oh I hope this makes sense)
We?ve adjusted,? was all he said.

?What do we adjust to when we get out??

Obi-Wan laughed, the joy of talking to her as inescapable as it was sometimes unavoidable. ?Whatever awaits us.?

Padmé put her head on his shoulder. After a second, Obi-Wan let go of her hand, to put his arm around her. She sighed deeply, but her breathing was smooth and even. She wasn?t upset ? and had she been, she probably would have kept out of reach.

?I don?t think about getting out anymore.?

?Neither do I.?

They are falling deeper in love with each other in that so rare kind of love where just talking with each other is a joy and is one of few things that is needed, another being just a simple touch of knowing that someone is there beside you, I hope you understand what I mean.

Obi-Wan,? Padmé whispered, turning around and uselessly opening her eyes, but focusing entirely on Obi-Wan.

He gripped her arms painfully, but his hands trembled. Padmé took his head in her hands, but he slipped down, falling, and she lowered herself to the floor with him. He shook helplessly, and Padmé stroked his face, ignoring his beard, trying to comfort, not knowing if she was succeeding and doubting it.

He laid his head on her shoulder carefully, fitting perfectly, tucked under her chin and above her collarbone, quietly falling apart, in an oddly organized fashion, Padmé felt.

That was Obi-Wan. When its the right person, they fit perfect together. (I'm not refering to any sexual) Its like when you see a couple and they are just the right height, or something about them makes you realize that they are just right for each other and to see them with someone else would look strange.

I love the reference to breath. "Breath was life. Breathing was living."

Are you my love? she thought. Anakin is gone.

 

I'm simply awed by this work. Unbelievably intense and poignant.

?You should have been there for him.? Accusing, but not meanly so.

?You should have realized what was happening.? Curt. Perhaps.

?You should have felt what Palpatine was in the Force.? Sly.

?You should have realized how he was using you to gain control of the Senate.? Even slyer.

?I should have tried harder to reach Anakin.? Sadness.

?I should have listened.? Regret.

Simple enough.


This exchange was especially powerful, to me anyway. Amazing, and that is about all I can find the words to say.

 

That was just incredible. Really. I'm not one to dissect passages, but I was tempted to try. Then I realized that there was something special about each one and I don't think either of us has that much time. Just suffice it to say that your writing was beautiful. Your character portrayals conveyed such depth and complexity of feeling it was like living in their heads. - it gave me empathy for both. I especially loved what he did for her - the visions of the night sky, the balcony, all of it. That says more than any words just how deep his feelings run. And Padme isn't dwelling on Anakin anymore, which says a great deal about her feelings for Obi-Wan.

Loved it! Very much worth the wait.

 

One thing that stuck out to me in this chapter was a strange sense of peace as Obi-Wan and Padme come to terms with their own and each others transgressions, whether real or percieved.

Also, they come to terms with the fact they may never get out of the cell.

As always, beautifully written!

 

They are most definitely becoming stir crazy, and it?s understandable, even in people as strong as those two.

He wouldn?t do this for her again. There was no one to do it for him.

It might seem a little selfish, but I understand where Obi-Wan is coming from. He seems to be the stronger one because he has the Force to draw on, but it must be hard to constantly have someone leaning on you when you?re so fragile yourself. His own musings about how he seems unable to put himself back together if he breaks are really sad. He?s just so lonely, and being isolated like this highlights his loneliness even more. Gosh, this is just such a beautifully written story. You have no idea how much I love the style of this story!

He laid his head on her shoulder carefully, fitting perfectly, tucked under her chin and above her collarbone, quietly falling apart, in an oddly organized fashion, Padmé felt.

That was Obi-Wan.

You really have no idea how beautifully hauntingly sad this is. Not just the most of any fic I?ve read or of anything I?ve read but of anything, movies or anything? so amazingly well done, it just really hits home. It?s so poetic and amazing. You?ve filled it all with feelings that are so great. It?s like being submerged in the emotions rather than a story that brings you along with the plot. I know I?m not making any sense now

Tensely breathing; too tense to relax enough to enjoy a breath.

Oh gosh that was a beautiful line.

Am I only a Jedi? seemed to be what was asked, and yet, she was never sure, could not be.

?again

The world they are creating for themselves- inside the cell, inside their minds- has to stay there. What happens if they do get out? It can?t ever be the same anymore. I can?t wait to see where this goes and what other amazing writing you have in store for us.



Speaking on the subject of poetry, I love your sig quote:
In science we have been reading only the notes to a poem; in Christianity we find the poem itself. --- C. S. Lewis

How beautifully true



-sj loves kevin spacey

 

Finally! Another great update! As usuall you've outdone yourself. An amazing piece. But will they ever get out?!

 

Yes another post!

You did an outstanding job on this one. And I am wondering the same thing as Obi-wan21 are they ever going to get out?

 

?No wonder you hate flying,? Padmé said, eyes still closed, still surrounded by purple. She touched his face, and was surprised to find it wet.

?I don?t hate flying, I dislike the things that always happen to me when I fly,? and despite the flippant words, his voice was uneven.

That sounds like Obi-Wan

He shifted, quickly and gracefully, and Padmé started in surprise when he was able to touch her face. And she thought over what she had said, and what he had said. Are you my love? she thought. Anakin is gone. And you are only Obi-Wan to me.

Hmm, I think something is happening here...

~aeryn

 

I just found this, and I am entirely amazed.

Your writing is incredible. So much is accomplished in this fic without dialogue; you've really taken your readers right into the cell with Padmé and Obi-Wan. The dialogue you use is always perfect. I loved this:

?You should have been there for him.? Accusing, but not meanly so.

?You should have realized what was happening.? Curt. Perhaps.

?You should have felt what Palpatine was in the Force.? Sly.

?You should have realized how he was using you to gain control of the Senate.? Even slyer.

?I should have tried harder to reach Anakin.? Sadness.

?I should have listened.? Regret.

Simple enough.

The use of one-word descriptions for each line, as opposed to phrases, is so effective.


I'm so glad I discovered this fic. Hope to see more soon!

-Erela

 

Once again, excellent post. I'm still enjoying how they're adapting to their new existance and I've already said I'm wondering what'll happen if they get out.

 

sdhfs: Thank you.

Kynstar: That struck me as being very Obi-Wan. I thought he would fall apart in a different way than most, or Padme. Thank you.

CrystalKenobi: Thanks! And that makes sense, no worries. That's what I was trying to get across - they've created this world for themselves where they can be happy. Which might be a little crazy, but it's keeping them sane. And I know what you mean about even talking to each other being a joy - that's kind of what I meant, with that part.

You said it well - he yearns, but he accepts and even realizes the upside of the whole situation, I guess. And it's cool that you liked the descriptions, the colors, all of that - there isn't much description at all in this story, a lot depends on the dialogue or lack thereof, so that was fun to write for once. Thank you!

VaderLVR64: Thank you. And aye, I thought they needed a time to accuse each other of failure, to let go of that, too.

Reihla: Wow, thank you. I'm amazed and very happy that it's like you can live inside their heads, that it gives you that strong of a feeling. And yes - I was thinking about the romance between them, and the fact is it's all very subtle, and no matter how I try it won't be any other way. Thank you again!

Jedikma: They've dealt with guilt, wanting to die, and to a degree the pain of their pasts, I figured it was about time for them to deal with failures. Thank you! Oh, and there's a reason I have them come to terms with never getting out - because only then . . .

solojones: Yes, they are. But in a sane way, I think. They aren't snapping, they're adapting, in their own strange, emotionally wrought way.

I'm glad you liked that line. I added it as an afterthought, but then I realized - how true that is. It's like when you're really sick, or in a lot of pain, and you wish you could just bang your head against the wall to make it stop. But there's no one to do that for him, even if he can do it to Padme. Not that it would be healthy for Padme regardless.

I may not understand it, but I like it! Thank you! Getting feedback like that is just thrilling, uplifting.

No, it can't ever be the same. And actually, I'm pretty much resigned to the fact that this will need a sequel to cover how things do change. I just don't think I can fit it in this one.

Glad you like my sig, too. I found it in a book, somewhere, and thought what a great, simple statement it was. I've had it for a while now.

Thank you!

Obi-Wan21: Thank you. And maybe. I say that just to be cruel, you know. Probably they will.

Senator_Leia73: The question should be, will they ever recover? And thank you!

AERYN_SUN: Well, I think it's true, so I made Obi-Wan say it. And yes, something is happening. Thank you!

-Erela-: Thank you. Aye, well, the style of this fic is no unnecessary words. I try to keep things as spartan as possible, and I think it works. I'm glad you liked the one line thing, too - I wanted that one word to just be everything for what was being felt in the moment the dialogue was spoken.

Vampi_Digitalwytch: Thank you. It's been interesting getting into their minds - truthfully, I could probably do another six chapters on that aspect alone, but I'm trying to move along, so I won't.

 

Do mine eyes deceive me?! A sequel???

[face_dance]

-sj loves kevin spacey

 

Oh, did you say sequel, obaona? Oh, I'm so excited now.

~aeryn

 

solojones and AERYN_SUN - your eyes are not deceived. I think a sequel is pretty much necessary to get the complete story at this point. However, I'm taking a crapload of units this fall, so when it will happen is unknown.

 

Beautiful obaona! Very beautiful!

Obi-Wan knew that if the reality of the outside universe was fading for him, it surely was for Padmé. He could, with his training, recall things with perfect clarity, every moment sharp and clear, as cutting as a blade. All Jedi could. He wasn?t sure when he had stopped trying to remember, except that it was gradual, happening less and less often. And now, when he tried to remember, the memory was . . . distant. Fading in the way of a dream, where everything is perfect when you first wake, but as time goes on it leaves you, even as you frantically try to grasp what remains. It wasn?t the clarity that was leaving him, it appeared to be his ability to connect to what he was remembering.

You just lead up so wonderfully to where he breaks. It's so touching. You can see the madness of the darkness starting to encroach upon them.

He wonders how Padme can recreate herself when he feels he could never pick up the pieces.

This part is so beautiful obaona: Faith was trust; he trusted that even if they died here, they would have this: each other. That was the Force?s gift to them. He could be content with that. Would he have ever known her so deeply and intimately, other than this? Too high a price, perhaps, or one that should have never been paid, but it was a gift nevertheless.

Beautiful post!

 

However, I'm taking a crapload of units this fall, so when it will happen is unknown.

I know how that feels. My mom asked me why not take a fourth class, but obviously she doesn't understand that Creative Writing, Math151 and Spanish II is a lot to deal with.

~aeryn

 

HOORAY FOR SEQUALS!

Hopefully this WILL GO FURTHER (if you know what I MEAN!)?

 

oba, did I ever tell you how much I like this fic?

...

I LIKE THIS FIC.

I'm not going to quote passages, because then I'd be here for hours. The entire part was a huge stand-out for me. The emotions were very heartbreaking, and very true. I like the way you handled everything. It was very realistic, and not tacked on. I could see everything happening.

I'm just very, very sad at this point. Not a lot of fics grab me in emotion range like this one. Just thinking about this is chilling. I'm deeply claustrophobic (and dark is terrible, too), and I just can't imagine going through that.

*shivers*

DARN YOU!

*shiver*

Oh, great...



Thanks for the great read, oba, as usual.

-Krystal

 

Simply beautiful, Oba. Missed a few posts, but Im caught up now.

~~Jilly

 

The end result of this cannot be pretty.

I'm trying to work out how this can end happily, but the overwhelming image I'm getting is from a story I read by Isabel Allende -- in the story, a beautiful girl has been locked in a basement by an evil guy for years and years, so by the time she gets out she's hunched over, old, blind, and insane. It's a really good story ... but I can't remember the rest right now 'cuz it's midnight.

So ... sad face. I really can't think of how this can end prettily ... but sad endings can be fun, at times.

Otherwise, I adore the prose you use here, oba. You capture the lonely mood perfectly -- you're right to be proud of it, hon, Dickens complex aside.

*off to bed or else I'd write more* Toodles!

EDIT: Holy ... err ... bantha! (?) I missed the latest post ... *reads that and then goes to bed ...*