Well of Souls
By Angel Ruse
Summary: Set after Ep3. Obi-Wan meets an old darkness that feeds off his grief over Anakin.
Xxxx
Gray dust shifted beneath his hands, then sprinkled as he stood. The ancient path that he walked had long fallen to the touch of the ages, so much so that Obi-Wan Kenobi found himself wading through the remains of dead trees and cracked archways that were now no more than rubble at his feet. Trees spread over his wake like a canopy, but a rainfall of sunlight still pushed through the branches to illuminate the way. The skies were bright blue. Birds sang in the trees.
Deceptive, he thought, stopping to catch his breath. He drew the sides of his hood down and let the cool air breathe through him. The beauty and life here was a great contradiction to the undercurrent of the Darkside of the Force that hung over the place, as tangible as the trees. The beauty of this world was vivid; life was thriving at death's door, for without doubt he could sense suffering and murder on these grounds.
He began to revise his initial opinion of why he was here. An intimate with the Force, any Jedi knew that some things that seem innocent enough could prove to be fate's chosen thread. He was a man in exile, but the missions didn't end with the Jedi Order. Weeks spent in transit hunting ghosts of his former apprentice had yet to yield any results, much to his secret relief and dismay.
Coming off on a mission of reconnaissance, he had found himself chasing one of those he had been watching—a hunter in all black, in the employ of the Empire according to the tip off Yoda had received through Senator Organa.
Obi-Wan had followed this hunter and observed the use of some sort of scanning device that would replicate a small hologram of the subject in either shades red or blue. Those in blue had ended up dead and Obi-Wan suspected why. Force sensitives. Palpatine's paranoia had him killing Jedi and non-Jedi alike.
Whoever this hunter was, he was strong and a skilled flier. He had led the Jedi Master here to this desolate world and shot him down, betraying he had known he was being tailed all along. A broken fuel line guaranteed he had to land. Apparently, the hunter had left him for dead, for there had come no secondary fire to make sure the job was done.
The first touches of darkness Obi-Wan had felt upon landing here on this sentient-empty world he had thought confirmed it was his apprentice that waited somewhere for him. Now he was not so sure only Anakin—if at all—inhabited this place. The evil here was practiced; not the passionate fervor of the newly fallen, but something that had grown hard and cold as permacrete.
Was it Palpatine himself, then? Unlikely, but Obi-Wan did not like to entertain the idea of more dark beings working against him than he already had to handle. Two had been quite enough to turn the universe around in a few decades. He snorted as he started walking again. Murder on backwater planets was not the illustrious Emperor's style. He saw himself above such mundane treachery. He fought galaxies, not individual renegades.
The evil must be in the earth. And so it must be whoever had lured him here must believe the Darkside would weaken the Jedi Master, make him an easier target. It would not be unlike Anakin—Darth Vader—to make such an arrogant assumption.
The name, Obi-Wan always fought himself over the name. It was tempting to stop thinking of his enemy as Anakin Skywalker, beloved brother and Padawan. Assign a new name; forget the love that had once bound them together. But while that would make it easier to fight such a foe, the cost of hiding from reality might prove a weakness within him. When it came to fighting and defeating Anakin he was going to need every ounce of his strength.
The evil grew in concentration. Limbs of trees twisted in towards themselves as if trying to ward off the Darkside. Obi-Wan paused on the threshold of the clearing at the end of his path, kicked a stone and watched it roll. A small stone building lay before him, inelegant, demure. The vines that snaked across its weathered surface had turned brown long ago, and just visible through their embrace he could see runes carved along the trim.
Obi-Wan came to stand before one of the windows glinting at him under a layer of dust. He raked a hand through his ginger hair, noting in his reflection that it had gotten long again. Beyond the glass pane there was only darkness. He moved to the door and, as suspected, found it locked.
The Jedi Master lifted his comlink. "Arfour, how are the repairs coming?" An aggravated beep across the line told Obi-Wan all he needed to know for now. Time enough to scavenge for parts or tools. "I'm checking the structure we sited on landing for spare parts that could make this go a little faster. It looks deserted. I don't think anyone will be returning anytime soon. But the door appears locked. I'm interfacing my data reader with it now. Can you try to override?"
He was distracted from the obliging beep of his R4 unit. A shadow crossed his vision, but eluded him as he quickly turned to see what it was. Only soft wind shifting the trees betrayed any signs of movement. Obi-Wan was reminded of those holofilms Anakin used to watch when they were off Coruscant, away from the Council's monitoring senses. These were the ones that usually started out much this way and ended with a psychopath getting locked up, an exorcism performed by a dubiously portrayed Jedi, or even worse, the promise of a sequel.
Just one more 'should have' to add to the list. He should have noted Anakin's fascination with darkness even then.
Despite the obvious reference of his thoughts—or perhaps because of it—Obi-Wan still started when an obliging thrill sounded over the comlink. He lifted it. "Did you override, Arfour?" The droid answered affirmatively, but warned the Jedi Master he would have to pry the door open because the inner mechanism was shot and probably had been for centuries.
Obi-Wan considered mirroring his former master and using his lightsaber, but an assessment of the structure's fortifications made him decide against it. He instead focused his will, seeking out the track, tracing the lines of the door itself, and finally gave a tentative shove through the Force. The doorway groaned, but gave way beneath his pressure enough that he could put his hands through the newly opened crack and force it the rest of the way.
Immediately the scent of untold ages swept across him. Obi-Wan coughed at the stagnant air just beyond the threshold. Within was the darkness of a home that had seen no owner in a very long time. No security system activated upon the intrusion, no abandoned droids came alert. Reassuring in that he wouldn't have to fight just yet, but eerie just the same. The Darkside was strong here. Strong and primed. It was like something knew he was there.
A snap-hiss ushered in the blue light of Obi-Wan's blade. He squinted, looked beyond, and was surprised at the simplicity of it all. A carved table stood against one wall, and with it were two chairs with sharp, angular designs on the backs. Beside one of the dusted-over windows he could see a chair covered in dust, sitting near a shelf with sheets of flimsi so old they had hardened and cracked with age.
A fireplace was the centerpiece of the room, old-fashioned, almost primal in its stone design from floor to ceiling. Within the hearth he could see the remnants of ashes that had long since become a part of the stone floor, and within those ashes the charred leather-bound remains of a book.
He knelt and carefully smoothed his fingers along the edge. Soot came off onto his fingers. It would likely crumble if he tried to pick it up. There was anger concentrated here, but whether it was the book itself or the fireplace, he could not tell. It was scattered, uncontrolled and feral.
And then he saw it. Hidden away almost completely beneath a piece of rotted log, a spot of light colored something peeked out at him. He had every urge in the world to reach out, dust it off and examine it, but the more he studied the more he realized he already knew what it was. Amid the evil there was something innocent here in the dark. Its presence still echoed in the Force, however faint. It was a bone. A small bone, perhaps belonging to an infant.
Disgusted, Obi-Wan abandoned the fireplace.
Deeper into the abyss he found an ordinary bedroom with long grayed-out blankets and window dressings. There were a few personal touches here and there; a broken vase beneath the shards of a broken table, a painting that was clothed in dust, a broken lantern with burned wick inside. A flowerpot lay shattered beneath the window.
The home had simple amenities suited to a simple life. And then he came to a door at the back of the main hall. It was old-fashioned, bound in a simple bolt lock forged of beskar. Tentatively, Obi-Wan unbolted it and pushed the door aside to find a path of stairs beckoning him down.
He ran his fingers along a touch pad on the side of the wall just beyond the threshold. Dim lamps within niches on down lit slowly, as if the power had to struggle to make it through to its destination. The light was pale, but enough to descend by.
Below was where technology betrayed the true nature of this place. The Darkside was overwhelming here. At the foot of the stairs he came into the remnants of a lab where scattered odds and ends littered tables and the floor. He took one of the data pads from a desk, noted the antique design and attempted to interface. "Arfour, scan the contents of this data and record it for later study."
He barely heard his R4 unit's confirming bleeps. A door at the end of the lab caught his attention. Even in the dim light he could see it standing half open. He made his way back and shoved the door completely back into its recess.
Inside was a room paved in dirt. He raised his lightsaber to light the way and saw nothing in the darkness but a short wall of stones at the back. He moved closer and peered at the structure.
It was a well. And from it came a sense of despair and horror so strong he nearly turned away. There was death here, a strong impression on the Force that made him shudder to think what might have happened.
And just as he would have turned to leave a voice spoke to him out of the darkness, whispery and cold. "You feel it, do you not? You have the spark."
Obi-Wan whirled around, holding his lightsaber at the ready. The owner of the voice made no pretense of hiding. Not ten feet away stood a figure draped in black robes. A pale hand seemed to trace him from afar, as if vision came through touch, not sight.
"Who are you?" he asked in a steady, neutral voice.
The voice ignored him. "It is amazing, that second, that instant the blood slows its fall through the veins just before the heart dies." The hand moved over his chest and for the barest of moments Obi-Wan felt as if his pulse had slowed, just as this strange being spoke. "That is where your spirit dwells. Muddied water the hue of ash."
He felt his eyelids get heavy, and had to fight the urge to be lulled by the mad words. A push of the Force shook the feeling off. "I don't recommend doing that again. What do you want?"
A hiss of laughter taunted his ears, but the hand retreated. "It is you that have come here. Tell me what it is you want, Jedi."
"And if I want to leave peacefully?"
"But if you wished to leave, would it not have been easier to have never come at all?" They shared a long stretch of silence in which Obi-Wan contemplated his next move. The cat wasn't all together clear on its intentions, but the Jedi Master was determined that he was one mouse that was not going to get eaten.
In another instant the form was on the prowl, wandering to the side, hooded face still aimed toward the Jedi. There was a meditative feel to the being, as if it were breathing Obi-Wan's Force presence and savoring what it found. "Ah, your grief is poetry to the Force," it hissed. "Have you ever just opened yourself to the red river that is everything and everyone?"
The Jedi Master backed off as the figure neared. He definitely wasn't reassured by the direction this conversation was taking. "Grief untamed leads into the Darkside. If there is any in me I assure you it won't be turned to your advantage."
A harsh laugh hit Obi-Wan's ears. "Forget darkness. Forget light. Marvel at the sheer majesty of the whole, the very breath of the Force, where there simply is and was and ever shall be. Life and death have no meaning there."
"Is that what you told that child in the fireplace?"
It was as if the air went cold, but only to a Force perceiver. "A trifle. A gift to the Force." The being's voice was deceptively calm, but Obi-Wan could sense something like a whisper in the shadows, a wail in the being's soul that died almost as quickly as it sounded. Perhaps this person recalled how it felt to kill one's own innocence.
He tested the waters with caution, speaking softly, "I'm sure life and death meant something then."
"It was meant to be." The figure took a step toward the Jedi. "As our meeting was meant to be." It paused. "Perhaps."
There was a dismissiveness that warned Obi-Wan away from pursuing the child any further. He chose another avenue. "And did you cause our meeting? Are you a Sith?" he asked instead.
The creature moved ever closer. Kenobi heard no breath, could sense nothing more than the emotions infusing the image his eyes told him was there. He pointed the edge of his lightsaber forward defensively. It merely raised its hand as if to feel the heat pouring off the blade. "The name in your heart. Anakin. The source of your grief."
"What of it?"
"Each atrocity is another piercing of the knife. The red river that flows through all beings. Imagine if the universe went suddenly silent. The grief was stayed."
It was Obi-Wan's turn to be amused. "Is this the part where you tell me the ways of the Sith can make everything better? All I have is to give myself over to the Darkside of the Force and I can have all I've ever wanted? It can't do that. It can't give me my apprentice back."
"No." There was no lie in the being's intention, no sudden switch of manipulation tactics. The room felt terribly cold. Obi-Wan could feel a longing that made him want to shut the Force off, anything to escape the darkness stalking him. Whatever this creature wanted, it was getting ever more impatient for the gain. His danger sense tingled.
The attack came swift, but the Jedi was ready. He blocked with his blade even as the creature rushed him, weaponless but intent. A wall of black fluttered by and Obi-Wan twisted to meet the next attack, only to see nothing where the creature should be. He wasted no time wondering, turning to meet a cold hand on his arm that he threw off by crouching rapidly, then jerking into a sideways roll.
When he came to his feet again there was only the darkness before him. Obi-Wan raised his lightsaber, reaching not with his visual senses, but through the Force. The hunger seemed to be everywhere, as ever present as the musty scent of the earth. He could feel a touch against his skin like a chill in winter, pulling at him, coaxing his senses to drop the vigil for just a second.
"I won't do this," he said, catching his breath. The Master glanced at the doorway. "Whatever you're looking for, you won't find it in me."
Without warning there were dark eyes staring into him from his right. Obi-Wan threw himself in the opposite direction to evade and found himself hitting the floor hard with a Force push. He grasped the dirt looking to gain his footing, but the being was already at his back, reaching for him. It was as if two strong hands gripped his robe and hurled him up into the wall with the force of a Wookie. Obi-Wan hit and tasted blood as he stumbled back.
It wasn't enough to keep him off guard for long. As the being sprang for him, Obi-Wan darted away and reignited his lightsaber in time to meet another oncoming blow. He deflected the creature to the left and aimed his blade true, aimed to kill.
The figure in black robes moved too fast to strike, evading every thrust and slash, always seeking with those eager hands that were cold whenever they met Obi-Wan's flesh. Persistence paid off for his foe; with the back of a hand the lightsaber was knocked out of the Jedi's grasp and to the floor where the dust made it hiss and flicker.
Desperate for a moment to gather his senses, Obi-Wan kicked towards the creature's midsection. An audible crack assaulted the quiet and he was sure he had struck bone, except his enemy did not fall.
Instead he fell. His ears crackled and his vision failed him. It felt as if fingers were streaming through his head. Numbly, Obi-Wan forced the presence out of his mind, but not before he lost his balance.
The earth moved beneath his back. For a moment he considered why that might be, and then he understood. He was being dragged to the sound of whispers he could not make out.
The Master opened his hand and called his lightsaber back, igniting and slashing in one fluid stroke even as the creature backed off. Obi-Wan thrust himself backwards and rolled onto all fours to put as much distance between he and his foe, but those hands like knives dug into his legs even as he crawled.
His lightsaber went dark from the dust storm of his scraping through the dirt. Obi-Wan felt his flesh tear beneath nails and a merciless grasp, but focused his mind on getting away no matter the cost. He managed to throw himself out of hand's reach for a moment, but it was not enough to save him.
With an inhuman speed the being was on him, hands ripping like an animal. Obi-Wan thrust his hands in front of him, trying to block, fighting back the assault, but the creature had him. He knew that as a warm trickle of blood dripped down his forehead, as a sharp pain erupted in his side. His limbs went heavy. He was tiring out.
And then he was forced to his feet. Still fighting, still trying valiantly to escape, he shoved and thrashed at the creature's hold. His last perception was of being punished for his resolve with a blow to the head, then being shoved over the mouth of the well.
When he awoke a slick lock of hair hung in front of his eyes. Obi-Wan could feel it move with each flutter of his eyelash, brushing against his cheek. It was beyond dark wherever he was. He was now awake after sleeping for Force knew how long. He was cold and wet. The well was nothing more than a puddle it seemed, only an inch or two above the floor. Mercifully, not enough to drown in.
The pit of the well was larger than the throat, for he had enough room to lay flat and suffer, as opposed to suffering in cramped quarters. This meant there would be no shimmying up to freedom, as if he had energy for such a thing anyway. He had tried to move, or maybe it had all been in his mind.
Obi-Wan just couldn't tell. His body ached and his head swam in a fog.
There was a constant dripping nearby, somewhere. The Jedi curled his fingers beneath the water and listened a while, until he realized what he heard was no dripping noise at all. It was a voice.
He stiffened, unmoving, scarcely even breathing lest he alert the voice to his state of wakefulness. As the haze cleared from his thoughts he strained to hear what was being whispered ever too closely for his comfort. A single word. What was it?
Before he found out the whispering stopped. An uncomfortable silence stretched on for what seemed like ages before the voice finally called him on his bluff. "Tell me about Anakin."
No. He thought it before it even occurred to him to say it. Obi-Wan reached a shaking hand to brush the offending lock out of his eyes. He could feel dried blood on his forehead.
"I see a picture in my mind," the voice said, reminding him that he was not alone. "I see a world on fire and a piece of your soul dying. Tell me of that moment."
Mustafar? Of course it had to be, for indeed a part of him had perished on that fiery rock where he left Anakin to die, or so he thought. The moment in question had not truly come until those dreadful three words, screamed as if all the universe's blame and contempt had been fused to the soul of he who spoke it.
I HATE YOU!
What could he have done to deserve such a rebuke? It was an old question by now. Obi-Wan groaned as he pressed his hands to the floor and sat up. He pushed the question out of his mind, knowing there was nothing new to be gained from contemplating it once more. He had already asked himself a hundred times where he had failed.
"I will not fall for your tricks, Sith." Obi-Wan scooted back against the wall, wrapping himself further in his soaked robes as if it would stay the cold. "That is what you are, aren't you?"
A dry laugh sifted through the dark. "These walls housed Sith blood once. Darth Allurus was my name." The voice took on a somber tone. "I could hear the secrets of souls. It was my gift, so strong the very universe hummed to me things forgotten, dangerous knowledge."
Knowledge that had likely driven this Sith mad, so Obi-Wan was beginning to suspect. The Force presence he picked up on was as enigmatic as the words this being chose to speak with. But this was not the confusion of the infirm. It was the dark, perverted lust of a mind that did not even see reality as others saw it.
The Jedi Master said nothing in response, hoping it would drive the Sith away. He stretched his awareness out, making himself as alert to his surroundings as sightlessness would allow. The well was fifteen feet into the ground. He could jump the distance if he could muster the strength…
As if hearing his thoughts, Allurus moved. Padding splashes betrayed the sounds of a form crawling through the water towards him. Obi-Wan stiffened, maneuvering to push himself to his feet. Heaviness spread along his limbs as he stood, sending him off balance and into the waiting arms of his Sith captor.
Allurus shoved him against the wall, knocking his last ounce of physical strength out of him. Desperate, Obi-Wan turned to the Force and used it to give him power enough to fight back. The Sith fell back with a blow of sheer will, but was quick to counter another attack. Obi-Wan felt his Force senses suddenly battering a great wall of determination, his hands outstretched and his eyes shut tight.
What little footing he had gained was lost. The contest of wills threw him back into the wall again, where he slid down to his knees. Allurus took the advantage and kicked the Jedi Master down into the water below. Obi-Wan coughed at the iron taste that invaded his senses.
The Sith bent over him, taking his wrists and forcing them to the wet floor, the Jedi Master on his back. Before Obi-Wan could stop it his robe was ripped off and tossed away. He twisted beneath his rival, ending up on his stomach in an attempt to win leverage back to his feet.
The Jedi made it to his knees before Allurus hit him across the back with something hard that broke on impact. A throaty yell of pain wrenched from Obi-Wan, and he fell forward, unable to fight anymore.
Dimly he was aware of Allurus tangling fingers into his filthy hair. Obi-Wan tensed as the Sith held his head down, his cheek pressed to the cold floor so close he could almost drown in the inch or so of water.
"The blood dries, you see," the Sith whispered, and before Obi-Wan could respond a sharp pain lanced across his side. "The sorrow winnows away, leaving me weak and thirsty."
Allurus let go and the Jedi reached to feel his wound. Warmth trickled over his fingers from a gash made to bleed him slowly. He tried to crawl away and failed, settling back on the floor from the weakness of blood loss.
The Sith remained at his side, waiting for what was sure to come—the Jedi's death. Allurus endured the silence for a time, unmoving, not speaking, until Obi-Wan's exhaustion threatened to drag him back into darkness. When the Sith spoke it startled the Jedi Master.
"How is he? The one whose fate makes the stars weep?"
Obi-Wan jerked at the whisper, coming back into full awareness. "Anakin?"
Allurus laughed lightly. "The one you talk to when you're alone." There was a pause, then, "Eyes of blue. Shining soul. You grieve him still."
A groaned passed through Obi-Wan's lips as it dawned on him who Allurus could be referring to. And so another avenue towards darkness would be tried? It did not matter. Obi-Wan would never give in. "Qui-Gon Jinn is dead."
"Death is meaningless. He watches you still." The Sith was intensely curious about Qui-Gon, that Obi-Wan could sense. He could also feel a degree of familiarity that made him uncomfortable.
The Jedi voiced a suspicion. "You knew him."
"He was a gift to me, the reward of a snare laid by he who gave me you." Sorrow hung in the atmosphere. The dripping noise became a reminder of tears shed in secret. "A mere moment and the fate of the galaxy became unraveled. What would be, if he had lived, I wonder. Do you believe our fates are sealed?"
"The Force flows through time like a river. We can change how it moves, but the course remains the same." Classic Mace Windu. Obi-Wan wondered if the dead Master talked with Yoda like Qui-Gon did.
Allurus laughed lightly. "The course may be changed as well, young Jedi. Anakin Skywalker may yet change it."
The want for a hope such as that stung Obi-Wan. The Prophecy lay in pieces. "Anakin Skywalker is dead," he said softly, staring off into the darkness, seeing blue eyes in his mind's eye. They were obscured by a mask now.
"He is not dead." The Sith was brushing his hand through the water, causing droplets to hit Obi-Wan's arm. "That is why you grieve so terribly, so endlessly. You know he yet lives within the shell of Vader, screaming to get out, to be what he once was. He is not dead, but his soul is dying…"
"Stop!" Obi-Wan's voice hit the air hard. He found his fists balled and started a breathing exercise to calm himself. Padme's final words hissed through his ears as if she were here whispering it again. With her dying breath she believed there was still good in Anakin. Maybe it was true.
"What do you want?" he asked the dark figure, wishing he could force this Sith away so he could die in peace.
The bold honesty of the Sith's answer jarred the Jedi Master. "To drive you to darkness and despair. To trap you here with the others. You could be so strong…"
Obi-Wan held his aching side. No matter how hard he pressed the wound the blood still flowed. "Darkness does not bring strength."
"But it takes great strength to wear the mantle of darkness for the sake of peace."
With that thought Allurus went silent. Obi-Wan stretched his senses and found the Sith presence gone. How Allurus could have left without a sound through a well might have troubled the Jedi Master if he had any energy to care. As it was, he knew he had to use what was left on getting himself out.
But his struggle with Allurus had worn him thin. His escape went no further than an intention that passed with his consciousness. A soft sigh brought Obi-Wan's eyes closed, and with a slump he found oblivion for a time.
Some hours later he found himself awake and surprised he was not dead. Shifting position brought a cry from his lips that hit the walls of the well and his ears uncomfortably. He took a sharp breath and moved again, determined not to let the pain stop him. It seemed his Sith captor had not returned yet, leaving him free to explore.
He stood and swayed on his feet, but pressed himself to walk a few steps. The water sloshed with his steps and grit scratched his boots. The floor of the well was bigger than he had first assumed, for a few strides did not bring him to the other side. It did bring him to something beneath the water. Obi-Wan tripped, but caught his balance before hitting the bottom. Kneeling, he fished through the water to discard whatever it was he had nearly fallen on, but paused when his fingers slid across a familiar form.
His lightsaber. Obi-Wan shook the water out of the beam recess and turned it on. There was no blade to it, but a steady spurting of sparks shimmered out of the end enough to see by. He had to squint at the sudden assault, but when his eyes grew accustomed he peered around him.
The well was a small cavern of stone, not yet twenty feet long from where the mouth loomed from above him. The walls were a mix of rock and dirt, and the floor was covered in dark water. Obi-Wan wandered to a boulder standing a few feet from the floor and sat down so he could dry off.
Alone with time to think, Obi-Wan could pick up on things that had been drowned out by his struggle with Allurus. He reached out through the Force and felt a wall of energy surrounding this terrible place. What purpose it served he could not say, but he could sense nothing beyond it—neither the vegetation of this world, nor the electrical impulses created by Arfour, nor even the Force outside of this little room.
He could sense the sorrow of this place, so keen and pure. It permeated the walls. And it was not just one singular event, but many sorrows and terrors. It was as if the well contained the very souls of the people Allurus had tormented.
A chill swept through the Jedi then, as he recalled what the Sith had said. To trap you here with the others. The others. Surely, he could not mean…
A half-crushed skull gazed with one eye at him from a few feet away near the wall. There were other fragments of bone scattered here and there. He traced his foot along the gravel in the water beneath him with a sinking feeling. Yes, to trap him here with the others. To leave him here to rot, his Force essence lingering on in these walls. This must be how Allurus came to survive so long. He fed on the Force of others.
And now Obi-Wan was trapped. He took a long breath, holding his side, but so used to the pain of it he barely registered the throbbing. "Qui-Gon, if you're here, I really could use your advice."
Yoda had taught the Jedi the secrets of communicating with his long dead master, but it was still never an easy task for either of them. The first time had been bewildering, amazing and bittersweet. He had not realized just how much he had been holding in until he saw those blue eyes again; proud, but grave.
His master did not appear this time. Perhaps it was the wall of Force, perhaps he couldn't. Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around himself in the chill, wondering if indeed Allurus had known him or if it were another trick.
A shadow stirred beyond his vision. Obi-Wan looked up, startled to find the shade of the Sith standing before him. "You waste time trying to find a way out."
The Jedi inclined his head. "The time is mine to waste." He studied the figure intently as the sparks from his faulty lightsaber flickered. "Why do you waste your time on this plane? You feel very old to me. You should be dead, shouldn't you?"
Allurus paced to one side. "There is no death…" he stated, then trailed off as if searching for the rest.
"There is the Force." The final line in the Jedi Code. Obi-Wan jogged his memory back to his teaching concerning the Sith Code. "Or alternatively, there is immortality."
A whispered laugh came from the hooded Sith. "Both conclude the same end. Neither defines that end as light or dark. And that is the great secret. The Force is neither dark nor light, but shades of gray that drift from the purity of the center, losing sight of the complete picture."
"You're wrong. The Darkside and the Light are very real and very different. The gray is where we begin, where we strive for the strength that lies in the Light or the illusion that waits in the Dark. The Light makes us more powerful in the end, but you have embraced the unnatural and are trapped here in your weakness."
Allurus stretched forth an arm, pointing angrily at the Jedi. "Jedi dogma. If you truly believe that, then you must believe your former master a very dark man indeed. He speaks in whispers, reaching from the essence of the Force, fighting against the tide the Jedi would have you believe he should embrace. Is it not so the Jedi claim when one passes he should become one with the Force?"
"It is true." Yet it was also true that neither the Jedi Order nor the Sith had complete knowledge of the Force. He inhaled deeply, steeling himself against the darkness he felt emanating from Allurus. "There is no greater man than Qui-Gon Jinn. Whatever else he may have been or may be now, darkness has no part of it. His actions show his intentions. Qui-Gon lived his life for the peace and freedom you Sith teach is a lie."
"You cannot have both!" Allurus glared from beneath the hood for a long moment. The Sith's Force presence was a mixture of emotions, from frustration to cunning and curiosity. "Or can you? Think on it, Jedi Master. To gain peace you must buy it with freedom. Authorities restrain the freedom of those who would disturb the peace. Those who are free to kill will inevitably cause chaos. The two cannot exist together in this galaxy as a single thing. There can only be peace where freedom is restrained, and freedom where turmoil is permissible."
Obi-Wan shook his head. "One can choose not to cause chaos, and live for both peace and freedom."
The Sith gave a short laugh. "And therein is the lie. The choosing of peace is only an illusion unless there exists the freedom to choose otherwise. The Republic deems that killing is a crime and you may well agree, but the freedom is missing if the Republic restrains your hand."
"I choose to believe there can be a universe in which we all freely choose peace," the Jedi replied.
"Then you choose to believe in a universe in which chaos is permissible, which proves that you devote yourself to freedom instead. Freedom is a Sith virtue." Allurus waved a dismissive hand. "Yet you speak of things that can never be. Whatever Jedi and Sith teach, the only way freedom and peace can exist together is through balance between the two. Our nature permits nothing else. And true strength is found in the center of the gradient, not on either side."
The argument wearied a Jedi running low on blood supply. In the haze of exhaustion he could find no reply, and indeed there was no reply that would make the other see the truth, for here was a being not prepared to consider alternatives to its own twisted views. Allurus waited, but Obi-Wan could sense the being focused on something other than whatever retort the Jedi could make. "Why are you here?" he asked the Sith tiredly.
Allurus did not move, did not even seem to breathe. "There is one coming who I will serve."
"Anakin?"
"One of his line." The Sith walked the cavern floor, hands balled and impatience building. Obi-Wan wondered what was so dire. His death would come in time, so what was the rush? Allurus turned toward him as if hearing his thoughts. "He had the potential to bring balance. He took the mantle of darkness, but he is ruled by fear. Balance will come only through sacrifice of the self—to become what one truly hates, what others hate, to achieve the things no one but a selfless creature can achieve. So that others will not have to pay the price for peace if one is selfless enough to pay it all himself."
It was a twisted marriage between Jedi purpose and Sith strategy. It almost made sense, which troubled Obi-Wan all the more. Was this the lie that bought Anakin's loyalty? Anakin had become what he hated, but Allurus was right in that fear ruled his heart. Whatever his intentions had been in the beginning, his former apprentice could not sacrifice himself to complete utter desolation to pay for the peace of others. He now served the darkness out of fear of helplessness.
"And that is the proof Anakin still lives within the shell of Darth Vader. He has always been afraid. You cannot save him." Allurus came near, too near Obi-Wan for his comfort. Hunger bled through the Force as outstretched hands came to grasp the Jedi Master's shoulders. For a long moment Obi-Wan felt the heaviness of the sorrow around him, longed for oblivion so he would not have to shoulder the burden of these truths.
He realized then that he had been holding on to an illusion that it had not been Anakin that had betrayed him all along. The name, it was so easy to put it out of mind and call his enemy by the Sith name. But the fear was there now, driving Anakin as it always had. Fear that drove his apprentice to hate a master that could be what he could not. Unafraid.
Obi-Wan closed his eyes and let the grief wash over him anew. He mourned Anakin all over again. He asked himself why Anakin had turned and found his answer.
And then he let go of the pain and embraced the truth without fear or grief.
Fingernails dug into his flesh. Allurus let an inhuman howl and threw Obi-Wan from the rock. He hit the floor of the cavern, crying out as the pain lanced through him. When he looked up the Sith was already rounding on him. "You will die here and all that you worked for will die with you."
"No," Obi-Wan said, pulling himself to his knees. "I will die here, but the ideals I lived for will live on. I will not grieve my fate, nor fear for the future. And you will have nothing to feed on." Allurus stalked forward, anger burning as a violent fire. The Jedi Master groaned as the Sith pushed him back into the—now Obi-Wan realized it—blood on the floor.
"You think you understand," the Sith whispered, kneeling down, pressing a cold hand to Obi-Wan's cheek. "You know nothing."
The Jedi Master's eyes glinted in the light of the broken lightsaber. "I know that though freedom and peace together as one choice by all will never exist, it is the ideal and the journey to that destination that matters to all beings. I cannot take freedom to ensure peace, but I can dream the impossible and journey towards a goal I may never see. And that is what makes the Light stronger than the Dark, Darth Allurus. It is the devotion to hope. You seek the small goal of controlling a small universe. I welcome all the weight of a universe of grief and dare to make it better."
Allurus curled fingers around the folds of Obi-Wan's shirt, dragging him close with murderous intent. It was then Obi-Wan knew he would die, but he felt no sorrow in it. He had lived for what he believed and that would live on through others he had touched.
And maybe Anakin would remember that about him and find his own way back. Obi-Wan would dare to hope for the impossible, for sometimes the impossible could happen.
He slid to the floor. Allurus stood over him, watching from beneath the darkened hood, emotions a myriad of feeling. Obi-Wan caught his breath and waited, but death did not come. Instead the Sith hissed two words, and was gone.
"Get out."
Obi-Wan lay there for a long moment, propped on his arms. His lightsaber finally gave up its sputtering, plunging him into a darkness he welcomed. He called it to his hand and staggered to his feet, fully believing Allurus meant to let him free. It was the key, the reason the Sith had not been able to keep Qui-Gon here, he was sure of it. Qui-Gon could not be corrupted, but he could corrupt the sorrow here with his hope.
The weary Jedi Master brought himself beneath the mouth of the well, using the newfound strength of will to fuel his strength in the Force. He leapt the distance between the bottom and the surface, then toppled over when his feet hit the ground above.
The lights in the lab were still shining. He barely knew how he managed to get through, but he keenly recalled turning the lights out to leave this place dark for hopefully what would be forever. There was no sign of the Sith as he made his way slowly through the time decayed house.
Outside, twilight was breaking across the horizon. The cool air brushed through his hair and caressed his skin softly. He felt renewed, more alive than he had in the years since this nightmare of a war had begun.
And ready to fall over.
Obi-Wan walked free of the house proper, then sank to his knees in the dirt to initiate a healing trance that would give him strength enough to reach the Starfighter. The Force flowed through him like a light, clear and without worry. He was left in peace to heal, but knew Allurus wanted him gone. And so when he thought he could make the walk back, he pulled himself out of the glorious feeling and left the dark house behind.
When he reached the Starfighter, Arfour whirred wildly at his appearance. "It's a long story," he breathed, pulling himself into the cockpit.
Arfour beeped a response that he didn't appreciate not hearing from his master in so long, then informed him he had a message from Senator Organa, text only, sent 5 hours earlier. Obi-Wan read the missive, then leaned back to ponder its meaning.
So it was a trap. Sources indicated that the tip off regarding the hunter, while true, had also been a trap to lure Obi-Wan out into the open. The command had come from Palpatine himself. Following that, he could only conclude Palpatine knew of Allurus and had intended the darkest fate for his enemy all along.
Instead, his dark intentions had turned against him. He had given Obi-Wan a gift and betrayed his feelings. The Emperor was afraid. Afraid that the Jedi Master could still affect the outcome of events.
And that was just what he intended to do.
The End.
Xxxx
Written for the happy happy joy joys of a whumped Obi and for my dear friend Terri's LJ community.
Author: AngelRuse
Email: angelruseATgmailDOTcom
Disclaimer: Obi-Wan is HOTHOTHOT, but not mine.
Rating: Mature teens and above.
Distribution: , sw_dock94 group at LiveJournal (see profile for link). Elsewhere, please ask!