Before - Legends Unsung (Obi/Qui, angst, mush, JA) - *Complete* - Author Replies - 27/06

What an absolutely gorgeous story, Princess. I love getting so deep into Qui-Gon's thoughts. It's obvious that he is deeply troubled. I hope Obi-Wan's song will ease him, that they will find understanding--they seem to have drifted apart slightly, to judge by Qui's surprise at this.

But then, our Obi would have hidden depths, wouldn't he?

I also love how you build such unique cultures, not only in your OCs, but also in the calm and staid Jedi we know and love. I'd never have guessed that they would have song meetings, but it makes perfect sense, especially as you tell it.

Can't wait to hear Obi sing!

 

Replies, now, as I haven't done them in a long time, and I'm deeply thankful to all you lovely beings.

Gkilkenny:

Well, Well trust Qui-Gon to be his usual abrasive self how any padawan could live up to his ideals is beyond comprehension. Or to put it bluntly "What an aggravating pain in the Bu....is Qui-Gon.

I suppose Qui-Gon is as much like any other master as possible - incredibly aggravating, and practically impossible at times - nevertheless, he has his reasons, as a teacher. And since he follows the Living Force, it's even more difficult.

He might become less aggravating in the near future, though.

Typical of Qui-Gon not really knowing his apprentice. I am glad he stayed in the room and now he will hear that beautiful voice of Obi-wan and I hope it puts a crack in Qui-Gons heart and allows some warmth and love to enter it and turn it from a heart of stone to a heart of love.

Lol. It might, at that. And show the apprentice something about his master too. Thanks for reading!

River_Stone: As always, your reviews leave me breathless. Each line is a work of art.

Feelings of such depression which seem to be clinging to the Jedi Master seem to also be dictating or at least shaping his opinion on other matters, such as the actions of his Padawan and the mission. I wonder if it is a mixture of Qui-Gon feeling that he has failed combined with, perhaps, an echo of his former beliefs of unworthiness (projected onto Obi-Wan?) mixed with a sedate knowledge that Obi-Wan will eventually leave his side, and so he aims to find fault with him in order to rationalise keeping him close.

That crystal ball working over-time, eh? Qui-Gon is certainly doing a great deal of thinking - and not all of it along the right lines. Jedi masters lose their focus too, sometimes. And he is doing something that he keeps warning his apprentice never to do. Dwelling on both the past and the future. And worrying about Obi-Wan, yes.

You're very very perceptive, dear one. Many many thanks for the lovely review.

MASTER_KAYM: Thank you.

Healer_Leona: Thank you for the kind words, dear. Qui-Gon is yet to see the amny sides of Obi-Wan, I fear. this just might be one of those instances. Or not.

Noelie: Thank you. It's a great compliment when people who see the characters in a different light yet like it.

dianethx:Thank you, m'lady.

It's not so much what he said as what he didn't say. I suppose that he also wants Obi-Wan to be a little more free, all that talk about control and perfect Padawan. I'm sure such a rogue Jedi would not want his Padawan to be so perfect.

Lol, very true. You have a great deal of understanding of the master. Qui-Gon himself, is not very sure of what's going on, I think. He much prefers not to do so much thinking about himself, so it's an arduous process when he is forced to.

I assume that the next post will include singing?

Well, there's been a post after that - but the next will definitely include singing, yes.

I liked that Qui-Gon's mind was worried about a liason between Obi-Wan and the delvei?ish. Did he think Obi was a monk? Or chaste? And what of himself that he knew such things? Perhaps he needs to let go more often.

True, he's still learning more about Obi-Wan - more from disagreements and conflicts than otherwise. He's not really sure of Obi-Wan romantic leanings at the moment: is he a monk? Is he chaste? Or does he carry on dalliances with delvei'ish?

Loved the cute sidestory about the reptilian creche master. That was adorable.

Thank you. Master Ada is fast becoming one of my favourites myself - I liked the idea of a contrast between the harsh reptilian and the soft heart underneath.

Layren: Thanks, dear.

 

Is there any chance that I could bottle you so that your unbelievable talent can be kept closer at hand? It's a very nice bottle. Plus it might give you a break from the chains

My dear, there are not enough adjectives to describe you. What amazes me most about your writing is your meticulous carving of each character, the way you break the Jedi exterior with tiny tell-tale properties of the character you are writing. It's the little things in your writing that make it as wonderful as it is. Keep it up, my dear.

Now, about that bottle....

Edit: The crystal ball will be granted an extra cookie. Thank you, my dear, as always

 

This is a wonderful story. I know I'm just repeating what everyone else has said, but I really like the way you've described Qui and Obi's relationship differently to the way everyone else does it. I like the depth that you've given it.
And i second everyone about wanting to hear Obi sing!
More soon... please?

~Rhi

 

up

 

I don't know how you do it, producing these beautiful works that are always so intricate and unexpected. You always unearth another facet of these characters that is thought-provoking and different from anyone else.

I love how Qui-Gon slowly discovered why Obi-Wan was there, and that singing seemed like such a foreign concept, not related to 'what they were'. I really loved that Obi-Wan had sung in front of him before, but never spoke about it.

Can't wait for the next post.

 

River_Stone: Your staunch support is one of the reasons I'm going on. Readers like you make my day - sometimes I read your reveiws again and again, they're so fulfilling and richly satisfying. That you wuld actually want to bottle something of mine does wonders to my ego.

Sending you a sack of cookies...

TheLurker: Thank you. Every word of encouragement drives me towards better writing - I'm very glad you dropped in, and reviewed the story.

AngryWarrior: Thanks!

LuvEwan: My dear - I cannot thank you enough. To be original is a very difficult thing, and I consider your works as ranking among the best. Now you know how much I value your compliments.

Note 1: Hokay... this was one post I read again and again, tweaking it, wondering if I could have done it differently (I've read it so many times now, that I don't really know.) But it is what I wanted to say. I've tried to do justice to Obi's voice. Hope you like. This one is also slightly different from how I usually write. I think. Again, I cannot really say.

Note 2: The story and the song I've given both form part of ancient folklore, and have been around for years. I've translated the song for the purposes of this story. It was a tale which moved me the first time I heard it, and I badly wanted to write it.

Note 3: Excuse the long post. I've been writing short stuff for a while now, and wanted to break the habit. You could say I wanted to pull a dianethx.

Just one more post, and I'm done.

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

Part III



Once, there was an old man, in a village. There are many villages, and many, many more old men in all such villages. This man was the head-man of his. There is nothing special about being a head-man either, except that you need to have a little more sense than others. In other ways, he was as ordinary as his fellow-men. He had his lands. A wife, a daughter, and his fields. He went to the weekly markets, bought household articles, and trudged back home, refusing the easier way of getting home by easing himself into a small cart. He mediated disputes, chatted with his cronies, discussed crops, and searched the skies eagerly for the rains. Like everyone else, the river was the centre of his existence too ? in a minor way. Their little village had a little river meandering through one corner of it, and a great deal of ferrying went on across it. And so, this village head-man was the same as everyone else.

Save one thing. He had a thirst for friendship.

No, not the kind of friendship that he had already had: The evening chatter, the endless meetings over the village council, and late-night deliberations about whether a well should be dug in so-and-so?s property, or could such-and-such?s claim about land ownership have any truth in it?

His wife was a stately woman, full of her lineage, and the great family she had been born into. She had a sharp tongue and delivered a lashing whenever she chose, but she was his wife, after all. And he could never scream back at her, and beat her, as some other men did, to put her in her place. She was a woman ? his wife, and deserved no less. His daughter was married and now lived in another village, herself the mistress of a household.

Come to think of it, he wasn?t really that old, was he? Middle-aged, they would say. He still had his head full of hair, and though there were a few greying streaks in it (he had married early), he had often been told that they added distinction to his features. He was not very tall, perhaps, but he was well-built, and when he walked down the street, people automatically stood up to pay respect. He would always smile derisively when he was told that he looked distinguished ? but in private, he would think ? perhaps, he wasn?t quite that long gone in years.

And he would look at the stars at night, lying down on the gentle grass that lined his fields, feeling the summer winds waft across his greying hair. They said those stars were other places like

 

Beautiful
I'm sorry, it's just there's no words for me to say how you've swirled my emotive range and left me with a wonderfully touching sense of peace...just lovely!
Thank you for that!

 

This was absolutely gorgeous! It was moving on SO many levels. Bravo! You never fail to amaze me with your talent.

 

Words fail me.

That was stellar.

Heartwrenchingly beautiful

 

I am simply in awe, Princess. Even though I couldn't hear the tune Obi-Wan sang, the way you described it was such that I felt I could hear him singing. Music is one of the things I hold very dear and you've gotten how well music moves a person so beautifully described, I almost cried.

Marvelously done. What is it about music I wonder that can move a person so? I've yet to figure out why music can make us cheer, cry or laugh depending on the melody. You've done a wonderful job with the effect music can have on a person's spirit.

So happy to see you writing again Just makes my day

 

I am so glad that you are writing again. This was glorious. I loved how you interwove the folktale and also the way Obi-Wan was perceiving what was going on with Qui-Gon. The old man with his silvered hair feels alone and at a loss to share his thoughts with anyone and then there's Qui-Gon feeling his age, I think. Realizing that Obi-Wan was soon to be gone and then what would be his life with such a companion away from him.

I loved that Obi-Wan realized that a student could teach a master. In JA, that was emphasized more than once and I like how you've incorporated it here.

Glad, too, to see Qui-Gon realize that his place is to guard and nurture and set his Padawan free in the end. However, if things had been different, I would hope that they would remain friends in the long years.

Great job. Looking forward to seeing the end and how you tell it.

 

Lovely. Just...lovely. The transitions from the folktale to the other sections were gracefully done, and though I haven't heard the original, you've made me want to. And as a pianist and a singer (I'm not particularly gifted as either, but I love both more than I can express), I adore the section where you show the evolution of Obi-Wan's singing. Are you a musician, if I may ask?

Oh, and I love this passage:

Beautifully understated.

Also, Qui-Gon's reaction to Obi-Wan's singing was perfect, and the mention of Knight Hallen/Hallon/Hallan was a wonderfully placed touch of humor there.

Lol...much more, and I'll have to go find a thesaurus, because there are only so many ways I can express pleasure--I think I've already used 'beautiful,' 'wonderful,' and 'lovely' more than once--without sounding even more incoherent. And none of those words can express enough how much I loved this. I can't wait for more.

 

A/N: Replies coming soon. Thankies, people.


Part IV

His first intention had been to return to the quarters as soon as he could, but he soon found that first intentions were out of the reckoning, that evening. He felt no hunger or thirst, considering he had had no meal in many hours, merely conscious of a lightness of heart that seemed to have no relevance at all, all things considered. To be sure, various emotions ebbed and flowed within, in conflict?but that sense of euphoria could not be denied.

He wandered on the paths that led from Master Areilein?s rooms (being of the insectoid species, he liked as many Petri bushes about him, as possible) into the foliage that bordered along the thick stone walls, touching the Force lightly as he went, almost sipping its essence. He had not meditated ever since the end of the mission?he had not wanted to?but now, he found that meditation came easily to him, as easily as floating in a pool of water. He relished this rare harmony, trailing his hand along a herbaceous border, stopping to sniff a fragrant louria flower, or simply standing underneath a luxuriant Alamra tree.

He did not consciously touch Obi-Wan?s presence within his mind. Something about its aura radiated peace, and he savoured it, without wanting to question it.

When he returned, it was to a chamber which showed signs of being occupied?the glow-panel flickered a bright, phosphorescent green. He stood staring at it for a few moments, before understanding its significance, and de-activating the control. The door swished open, and he walked in.

An appetizing aroma surrounded him, making him think at once of the mid-day meal he had missed. His stomach rumbled in protest, he crossed his arms across his midriff, walked slowly past the common area, into cooking unit.

Obi-Wan was not there.

Although there was evidence that he had been, within the past few minutes. A pot of something was bubbling away, white mist swirling above it, and there was a bowl of red and yellow blocks, chopped and ready for immediate consumption. Papli fruits. They were his favourites, remarkably nutritious (for which reason Obi-Wan disliked them)?and equally rare, in Coruscant.

He smiled slightly and then hesitated, listening to certain vague thumping sounds coming from somewhere to the left.

His room, to be very precise.

He began walking towards the room, and looked down towards his boots. They were muddy, tracking little lumps of mud over the floor, and were making loud clomping noises he much preferred to do without. He bent and tried to undo the straps?which seemed caked with some kind of plant sap?when he found a pair of slim hands reaching forward towards his boots.

?Let me do it,? came a voice, and he angled his face to look into a pair of blue-green grey eyes.

?You?re early.? A slight smile lit his own eyes. ?I?m capable of removing my boots, you know.?

The smile was mirrored in Obi-Wan?s eyes. ?You twisted your knee when you tried to enter that low cavern in Se?emaria,? he said, evenly. ?And I have your soft shoes inside.?

Such logic was difficult to resist. Qui-Gon rose, and clomped his way into his room, which now presented a spick and span appearance. His data-cards and mission report files were all stacked neatly, on his reading shelf, his tool kit rested in the little niche above it?

?You?ve unpacked everything,? he commented, as he rested more weight on his right leg?strange, how he had hardly noticed it when he had been strolling through the gardens on his way here.

Obi-Wan shook out a sleep-robe which looked voluminous in his slender hands, and folded it neatly, pressing the robe against himself to crease it in the right places. ?I always do.?

Qui-Gon was vaguely surprised, because this was quite true. Though most Masters did not insist on it, and it was the option of the student to do so, Obi-Wan had somehow made the cleaning of Qui-Gon?s room his own. When and how this had happened, Qui-Gon had not quite known, but after a few token p

 

What a beautiful ending. I have the warm fuzzies all over

 

I'm, torn between warm fuzzies and wanting to cry


And if Qui-Gon felt a tendril of foreboding about the sorrowful fate of the head-man and the friend of his dreams, he chose to ignore it.

That story was perfect in that their lives will end in tragedies for someone who cares for them ( I hate the part where Obi dies.....Luke has the same expression as Obi in ep 1. Beautiful. And that Obi-wan sings....it seems very right for him to be able to sing alto and tenor ( I assume? ) and make it so pretty...

Very heartwarming and sad and lovely all at once. I'm suddenly inspired to write a singing Jedi fic....

 

Very sweet, but it does have a slight sadness to it. This post finishes the story beautifully.

All in all, I'd say this fic was fabulous - highly addictive and had me waiting impatiently for the next part...Don't get me started on the third chapter. I still can't get over my awe.

 

Gorgeous. I also got the warm fuzzies. And again, I love how the folktale was incorporated with their lives. I would say more, but I've exams to study for...oh, the joys of life as a student. *grins*

 

A most... appropriate ending. I'm glad I found it again! Excellent job!

Just Jill

 

What a brilliant ending, Obi-wan senses his Master is happy and has released his pain to the force.
And Qui-Gon has found that wonderful apprentice that he always knew he had but never admitted it.

I knew Qui-Gon couldn't be the stuffed shirt
I imagined him to be.
He has a heart and now it is full of his Obi-wan.

Well done

 

I really loved the understated way the two expressed their devotion to each other - one by doing the little things that needed to be done so that the Master could be at ease and Qui-Gon by showing Obi how much he cared as he opened his heart in his own quiet way. The hug was just perfect, Qui-Gon is a rather tactile person and Obi-Wan, I'm sure, loved it.

I loved, too, the sadness that was the ending of the story, with the old man dying of a broken heart and the young girl protecting him til the end. In the same way that Qui-Gon could have become this lonely old recluse and his young one seeping into his heart and his life and protecting him from loneliness and despair.

Great job.

 

I'm speechless. That was beautiful. It was a very insightful look into the minds of those two.

 

Obi-Wan healed Qui-Gon with song. What a wonderous voice he has. And what a wonderous fanfic voice you have, depicting the art of the Jedi so nicely.

 

Ahhhhh. That was deeply satisfying. As always, I loved the little details you used to build the story, to bring us into the world--the soup, Qui-Gon's boots. They make the story come alive for me in a unique way, very vivid.

And of course, I loved the mush, how they resolved the uneasiness between them. Obi-Wan was so sweet! Just made me sigh all over myself.

Beautiful job, Princess. It lifted my heart.