Title: Hero
Author: Rita Marx pinduck85@yahoo.com
Rating: G
Category: Songfic =:o
Summary: Two youngsters find an old journal and daydream of becoming Jedi. Setting: Unnamed planet / New Republic
Generic Disclaimer: If you recognize it -- I don't own it. If you don't recognize it I probably do own it. And no, I'm not making any $$$ off this, the David and Phil said Republic dataries are no good -- only real money.
Plot bunny: I always did love this song. :)
*** Death to all plot hares =: Long live the plot bunnies =:) ***
(Plot hares are responsible for all those annoying kinks in story lines.)
Feedback: Sure. Flames will be nuked @={
Note: [Daydreams and imaginations] ^ Lyrics ^
Author's note: Song used is _Hero_ by David Crosby and Phil Collins (1993).
+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +
The sun shone brightly in the blue sky. A few lazy clouds drifted slowly on their way to nowhere. The grass grew tall in the fields as summer flowers turned their face to the warmth of the sun. Bees buzzed happily as they danced from flower to flower. Everywhere the fragrance of late summer lingered.
This was one of the last few days the children could enjoy before they started a new chapter in their young lives.
In the small, antique store an old grandfather smiled as he passed his hands over the leather binding of an ancient tome.
Leather.
No one used leather anymore, not when there were data pads that have been around for much longer than he was alive.
Leather.
This must have been a very special, very expensive gift to someone.
Memories.
That is what he held in his age-spotted hands. Yes, he was old enough to remember how it was so long ago. He remembers how it was in his youth. With a gentleness that bordered on reverence, he placed the tome back into the box that had kept it safe for a lifetime. Or two.
Yes. This tome *was* special. He could feel the magic flowing through it each time he held it.
Memories.
This was a chronicle of a young man's life as told to his student, his protégé.
Many a night he took it to his bed and read it cover-to-cover, absorbing the memories and the magic of each hand-written word. The author held to a graceful hand as he wrote each word with quill and ink.
Quill and ink.
Nobody wrote like that anymore -- not for countless generations unless dictated by custom.
He looked at the elegant lettering that covered the yellowed parchment. Written by a male hand, it spoke of the admiration of someone younger wishing to follow in the footsteps of a man he greatly respected.
Quill and ink.
Each word held the respect for a man Fate had decreed be struck down in a battle of Light over Dark. But more than anything, the grandfather could feel the love each word held.
The proprietor of the little antique shop stuck on the edge of some primitive, backwater village on some primitive, backwater little planet again wondered.
How did this tome come to be here, in *his* little shop. How did it come to be in *his* hands?
These were answers he could not fathom; yet he knew exactly what he would do with this priceless tome. It was not his to keep. It was his to gift.
Yes. He knew exactly what he would do with it. Oh, he knew he could sell it for enough money to rebuild his aging shop that stood beside his rustic family home. But, no, he knew that was not what the Force had intended for this ancient, leather bound, book of memories.
As at the first time he touched it, his two grandchildren had fallen in love with this journal. It spoke to them, to their dreams.
He took one last look at the other mementos that came with it. Smiling, he closed the box and called to his grandchildren.
"Quinn, Eve, would you come here?"
Above his head, the proprietor heard two sets of feet scurry across the floorboards, then race down the stairs.
Brother and sister, they spent many a summer's day playing 'Knights and Pirates' with their friends. Soon they would leave him to chase their dreams and have adventures they had not imagined. His heart swelled with pride as he looked at their eager faces.
"You called for us, Grandfather?" Quinn asked as he caught his breath.
Reaching out, the grandfather grabbed a thin braid behind the boy's right ear and gave it a gentle tug. "One day, you will wear this in your own right. As will you, Eve," he smiled to his granddaughter.
Dressed in worn, brown pants with patches and a tan shirt handed down by an older cousin, the boy beamed with pride as he stood a little taller and puffed out his slim chest. With a quick swipe, he pushed a lock brown hair out of his eyes.
Beside him, in a faded, calico print dress with a frayed hem, his younger sister stood as tall as she could without standing on her toes. She, too, puffed herself out. Her small frame was beginning bud. Her dark honey colored hair curled softly about her temples.
Both shared the same blue-green eyes and quick intelligence. Filled with the courage of youth, they were ready to take on the universe -- and win.
"It won't be long now, before the two of you leave for the Jedi Academy. I'll miss you both. You have no idea how much I've enjoyed your company over the years."
The children's eyes reflected the love they had for the old man who raised them after their parents died.
Eve threw her arms around his waist. "We will miss you something fierce, Grandfather." Less than a second later, her brother joined her in silently expressing their love for him.
"Imagine, both my grandchildren one day becoming Jedi Knights! I'm so proud of you both." Indeed, now that the Empire and its hidden evil were no longer in power, Luke Skywalker was trying to re-establish the Old Order that had stood for generations as a symbol of what was right and noble.
Pushing back the tears, the grandfather pulled from their embrace. "I have something for the two of you. This is something I want you to have." He handed them a familiar box.
Eve stood there with wide eyes disbelieving the gift. "You...you want *us* ...to have this?"
Placing a hand on her head, he pulled her closer to place a kiss upon her crown of braids. "Yes, my children. I do."
Taking the gift, Quinn found his voice, "Th...thank you, Grandfather."
"Go now. Go and enjoy the days you have left here with your friends. I'm giving you the day off from working in this musty old building."
The grandfather shooed them out the door and watched through the grimy window as they ran across the field to their favorite tree.
+ + + + +
Their friends were already there, waiting to share in the next big adventure their imagination could dream up.
"Guess what, guys. You're never gonna believe it! He gave it to us! He *just gave* it to us!"
"Gave you what?" one voice asked as they all jockeyed for a better look at the medium sized box Quinn held out for inspection.
Sitting down in a circle Quinn and Eve settled against the old oak.
"Grandfather gave us the best gift ever! He gave us the journal!"
"The journal?! You mean... *the* journal you both've been talking so much about?"
"Yup, that's the one!" Eve nodded.
"Wow!... Well, come on, let us see it!... Yeah, I wanna see it." Several young voices clamored to be heard at once.
Slowly Quinn opened the box. All leaned forward to peer inside.
Reverently, Quinn lifted it out and set it across his lap. He could feel the Force flowing through the ancient tome. Beside him, Eve reached out a small hand and lovingly caressed the leather. She, too, could feel the magic.
Together, brother and sister shared the magic with their friends. Slowly they turned the yellowed parchment and began to read from the journal that chronicled the early adventures of a young Jedi Knight of the Old Republic.
To Quinn and Eve, the words held a special kind of magic all their own, as if the tales had been written especially for them. Many times in their mind's eye, they could envision what the words showed them. Like his sister, Quinn again drifted off into a land of daydreams and adventure.
Quinn knew every page by heart. In his daydreams he became that dashing, young knight. In his mind's eye he could see it all...
^ Well it was one of those great stories ^
^ that you can't out down at night. ^
^ The hero knew what he had to do ^
^ and he wasn't afraid to fight. ^
[A tall and noble knight striding fearlessly into battle, his cloak flying behind him, vanquishing all his foes with a sweep of his emerald sabre.]
^ The villain goes to jail, while hero goes free. ^
[The knight nods to the authorities as the bad guy is dragged off to prison. He flips his cloak over one shoulder as he saunters over to the local beauty and kisses her senseless.]
*^ I wish it were that simple for me. ^
Quinn notices the dreamy eyed look on Eve's face and knew what she felt; he felt the same way.
^ And the reason that she loved him ^
^ was the reason I loved him, too. ^
^ And he never wondered what was right or wrong, ^
*^ he just knew -- he just knew. ^
^ Shadows and shape mixed together at dawn, ^
^ but by time you catch them simplicity's gone. ^
^ And so we sort through the pieces, ^
^ my friends and I. ^
Quinn picks up a smooth river rock. It calls out to him as he feels its presence in the Force.
^ Searching through the darkness to find ^
*^ the breaks in the sky. ^
^ And the reason that she loved him ^
^ was the reason I loved him, too. ^
^ And he never wondered what was right or wrong, ^
[As he travels across the galaxy to fight injustice the young knight faces many hardships.]
*^ he just knew -- he just knew. ^
^ And we wonder, yes we wonder. ^
^ How do you make sense of this, ^
^ when the hero kills the maiden ^
*^ with his kiss -- with his kiss. ^
Remembering her dreams, Eve traces a finger along the face of the handsome, young knight in a holo-picture. His long hair is pulled back and his beard is neatly trimmed. In the golden sunlight filtering through the leaves, his blue eyes sparkle and seem to wink at her. She clutches the frame to her small bosom...and sighs. A gentle breeze caresses her cheek and presses against her lips.
^ Well it was one of those great stories ^
^ that you can't out down at night. ^
^ The hero knew what he had to do ^
^ and he wasn't afraid to fight. ^
^ The villain goes to jail, while hero goes free. ^
*^ I wish it were that simple for me -- were that simple for me. ^
Quinn raises his face to the warmth of the sun and makes a silent promise that he *will* become *just* like this noble knight of old.
A soft wind ruffles his longish hair and tugs on his braid.
Quinn turns to the inside cover of the ancient tome and lightly runs his fingers over the dedication.
Lovingly dedicated to the memory of the man who was more than a friend,
more than a father, more than a mentor to me,
Qui-Gon Jinn,
Jedi Knight and My Beloved Master.
~ Obi-Wan Kenobi ~
* * Fin * *
Author: Rita Marx pinduck85@yahoo.com
Rating: G
Category: Songfic =:o
Summary: Two youngsters find an old journal and daydream of becoming Jedi. Setting: Unnamed planet / New Republic
Generic Disclaimer: If you recognize it -- I don't own it. If you don't recognize it I probably do own it. And no, I'm not making any $$$ off this, the David and Phil said Republic dataries are no good -- only real money.
Plot bunny: I always did love this song. :)
*** Death to all plot hares =: Long live the plot bunnies =:) ***
(Plot hares are responsible for all those annoying kinks in story lines.)
Feedback: Sure. Flames will be nuked @={
Note: [Daydreams and imaginations] ^ Lyrics ^
Author's note: Song used is _Hero_ by David Crosby and Phil Collins (1993).
+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +
The sun shone brightly in the blue sky. A few lazy clouds drifted slowly on their way to nowhere. The grass grew tall in the fields as summer flowers turned their face to the warmth of the sun. Bees buzzed happily as they danced from flower to flower. Everywhere the fragrance of late summer lingered.
This was one of the last few days the children could enjoy before they started a new chapter in their young lives.
In the small, antique store an old grandfather smiled as he passed his hands over the leather binding of an ancient tome.
Leather.
No one used leather anymore, not when there were data pads that have been around for much longer than he was alive.
Leather.
This must have been a very special, very expensive gift to someone.
Memories.
That is what he held in his age-spotted hands. Yes, he was old enough to remember how it was so long ago. He remembers how it was in his youth. With a gentleness that bordered on reverence, he placed the tome back into the box that had kept it safe for a lifetime. Or two.
Yes. This tome *was* special. He could feel the magic flowing through it each time he held it.
Memories.
This was a chronicle of a young man's life as told to his student, his protégé.
Many a night he took it to his bed and read it cover-to-cover, absorbing the memories and the magic of each hand-written word. The author held to a graceful hand as he wrote each word with quill and ink.
Quill and ink.
Nobody wrote like that anymore -- not for countless generations unless dictated by custom.
He looked at the elegant lettering that covered the yellowed parchment. Written by a male hand, it spoke of the admiration of someone younger wishing to follow in the footsteps of a man he greatly respected.
Quill and ink.
Each word held the respect for a man Fate had decreed be struck down in a battle of Light over Dark. But more than anything, the grandfather could feel the love each word held.
The proprietor of the little antique shop stuck on the edge of some primitive, backwater village on some primitive, backwater little planet again wondered.
How did this tome come to be here, in *his* little shop. How did it come to be in *his* hands?
These were answers he could not fathom; yet he knew exactly what he would do with this priceless tome. It was not his to keep. It was his to gift.
Yes. He knew exactly what he would do with it. Oh, he knew he could sell it for enough money to rebuild his aging shop that stood beside his rustic family home. But, no, he knew that was not what the Force had intended for this ancient, leather bound, book of memories.
As at the first time he touched it, his two grandchildren had fallen in love with this journal. It spoke to them, to their dreams.
He took one last look at the other mementos that came with it. Smiling, he closed the box and called to his grandchildren.
"Quinn, Eve, would you come here?"
Above his head, the proprietor heard two sets of feet scurry across the floorboards, then race down the stairs.
Brother and sister, they spent many a summer's day playing 'Knights and Pirates' with their friends. Soon they would leave him to chase their dreams and have adventures they had not imagined. His heart swelled with pride as he looked at their eager faces.
"You called for us, Grandfather?" Quinn asked as he caught his breath.
Reaching out, the grandfather grabbed a thin braid behind the boy's right ear and gave it a gentle tug. "One day, you will wear this in your own right. As will you, Eve," he smiled to his granddaughter.
Dressed in worn, brown pants with patches and a tan shirt handed down by an older cousin, the boy beamed with pride as he stood a little taller and puffed out his slim chest. With a quick swipe, he pushed a lock brown hair out of his eyes.
Beside him, in a faded, calico print dress with a frayed hem, his younger sister stood as tall as she could without standing on her toes. She, too, puffed herself out. Her small frame was beginning bud. Her dark honey colored hair curled softly about her temples.
Both shared the same blue-green eyes and quick intelligence. Filled with the courage of youth, they were ready to take on the universe -- and win.
"It won't be long now, before the two of you leave for the Jedi Academy. I'll miss you both. You have no idea how much I've enjoyed your company over the years."
The children's eyes reflected the love they had for the old man who raised them after their parents died.
Eve threw her arms around his waist. "We will miss you something fierce, Grandfather." Less than a second later, her brother joined her in silently expressing their love for him.
"Imagine, both my grandchildren one day becoming Jedi Knights! I'm so proud of you both." Indeed, now that the Empire and its hidden evil were no longer in power, Luke Skywalker was trying to re-establish the Old Order that had stood for generations as a symbol of what was right and noble.
Pushing back the tears, the grandfather pulled from their embrace. "I have something for the two of you. This is something I want you to have." He handed them a familiar box.
Eve stood there with wide eyes disbelieving the gift. "You...you want *us* ...to have this?"
Placing a hand on her head, he pulled her closer to place a kiss upon her crown of braids. "Yes, my children. I do."
Taking the gift, Quinn found his voice, "Th...thank you, Grandfather."
"Go now. Go and enjoy the days you have left here with your friends. I'm giving you the day off from working in this musty old building."
The grandfather shooed them out the door and watched through the grimy window as they ran across the field to their favorite tree.
+ + + + +
Their friends were already there, waiting to share in the next big adventure their imagination could dream up.
"Guess what, guys. You're never gonna believe it! He gave it to us! He *just gave* it to us!"
"Gave you what?" one voice asked as they all jockeyed for a better look at the medium sized box Quinn held out for inspection.
Sitting down in a circle Quinn and Eve settled against the old oak.
"Grandfather gave us the best gift ever! He gave us the journal!"
"The journal?! You mean... *the* journal you both've been talking so much about?"
"Yup, that's the one!" Eve nodded.
"Wow!... Well, come on, let us see it!... Yeah, I wanna see it." Several young voices clamored to be heard at once.
Slowly Quinn opened the box. All leaned forward to peer inside.
Reverently, Quinn lifted it out and set it across his lap. He could feel the Force flowing through the ancient tome. Beside him, Eve reached out a small hand and lovingly caressed the leather. She, too, could feel the magic.
Together, brother and sister shared the magic with their friends. Slowly they turned the yellowed parchment and began to read from the journal that chronicled the early adventures of a young Jedi Knight of the Old Republic.
To Quinn and Eve, the words held a special kind of magic all their own, as if the tales had been written especially for them. Many times in their mind's eye, they could envision what the words showed them. Like his sister, Quinn again drifted off into a land of daydreams and adventure.
Quinn knew every page by heart. In his daydreams he became that dashing, young knight. In his mind's eye he could see it all...
^ Well it was one of those great stories ^
^ that you can't out down at night. ^
^ The hero knew what he had to do ^
^ and he wasn't afraid to fight. ^
[A tall and noble knight striding fearlessly into battle, his cloak flying behind him, vanquishing all his foes with a sweep of his emerald sabre.]
^ The villain goes to jail, while hero goes free. ^
[The knight nods to the authorities as the bad guy is dragged off to prison. He flips his cloak over one shoulder as he saunters over to the local beauty and kisses her senseless.]
*^ I wish it were that simple for me. ^
Quinn notices the dreamy eyed look on Eve's face and knew what she felt; he felt the same way.
^ And the reason that she loved him ^
^ was the reason I loved him, too. ^
^ And he never wondered what was right or wrong, ^
*^ he just knew -- he just knew. ^
^ Shadows and shape mixed together at dawn, ^
^ but by time you catch them simplicity's gone. ^
^ And so we sort through the pieces, ^
^ my friends and I. ^
Quinn picks up a smooth river rock. It calls out to him as he feels its presence in the Force.
^ Searching through the darkness to find ^
*^ the breaks in the sky. ^
^ And the reason that she loved him ^
^ was the reason I loved him, too. ^
^ And he never wondered what was right or wrong, ^
[As he travels across the galaxy to fight injustice the young knight faces many hardships.]
*^ he just knew -- he just knew. ^
^ And we wonder, yes we wonder. ^
^ How do you make sense of this, ^
^ when the hero kills the maiden ^
*^ with his kiss -- with his kiss. ^
Remembering her dreams, Eve traces a finger along the face of the handsome, young knight in a holo-picture. His long hair is pulled back and his beard is neatly trimmed. In the golden sunlight filtering through the leaves, his blue eyes sparkle and seem to wink at her. She clutches the frame to her small bosom...and sighs. A gentle breeze caresses her cheek and presses against her lips.
^ Well it was one of those great stories ^
^ that you can't out down at night. ^
^ The hero knew what he had to do ^
^ and he wasn't afraid to fight. ^
^ The villain goes to jail, while hero goes free. ^
*^ I wish it were that simple for me -- were that simple for me. ^
Quinn raises his face to the warmth of the sun and makes a silent promise that he *will* become *just* like this noble knight of old.
A soft wind ruffles his longish hair and tugs on his braid.
Quinn turns to the inside cover of the ancient tome and lightly runs his fingers over the dedication.
Lovingly dedicated to the memory of the man who was more than a friend,
more than a father, more than a mentor to me,
Qui-Gon Jinn,
Jedi Knight and My Beloved Master.
~ Obi-Wan Kenobi ~
* * Fin * *