Hiya all, I'm Eileen Blazer. I guess I should be working on my SM
fanfic, but after seeing Ep.I again, I had to write this. This little
interest of mine, btw, is different for a good reason...I've never
really been noncannon before. Granted, I rejected Voyager Cannon during
the last half of the last season, but that was called for. Anyways,
this obsession, er, interest, is like my dance off to the side of
cannon.
So this is what it feels like.
Anyways, its set just after Ep.I and don't expect it to follow the same
pattern as the next ep.
The idea is mine, the characters are not (although, if you need me to
take young Obi off your hands, George, well I think I can be helpful)
The Greatest Force
Chapter One: Kindred Spirits
Obi-wan sat on the ground, his knees bent up, like a child waiting at
the curb for his mother. It was black, desite Naboo's three moons, and
the shadows on his face served as adequate veils for the dark thought
prancing through his minds.
The life of a Jedi was never easy; Obi knew that. He was well aware of
the dangers that were always nipping at his heels, plunding him head
first into battle after endless battle.
But they were never supposed to actually *catch* him. All at once,
every cocky, arrogant belief had been ripped away from him, leaving him
vulnerable to the gloomy sunset.
And the thoughts were the worst. He'd felt them first as he'd watched
his mentor and the dark Sith battle. Every clash of the sabers, every
low hit Darth Maul took, every time evil fed off of some unseen power,
Obi-wan had tasted a strange flavor. Something bitter, sour, yet
undeniably addictive. When Qui-gon fell, it had flooded his senses,
unceasless, until his enemy's body had cascaded roughly to its end.
He told no one; the council would never have given him their approval
for Anakin if he had. Rather, Obi shoved it away.
He buried it. Forever.
He heard her approach, light steps on the uneven ground, even before
her hand touched his shoulder lightly. Obi looked up for just a moment,
barely catching the sorrow in her eyes. Amazing, how well she hid her
emotions. In all the comotion over Anakin, no one had realized the
potential that lay within this young girl. She took a seat beside him,
following his gaze into the sky.
"You two were very close, weren't you?"
"Usually. Every now and then we'd have some riff. Mostly whenever
Qui-gon insisted on disobeying the Council."
"And yet I heard you were ready to train Ani without their approval."
"I made a promise."
She paused. Of her two Jedi saviors, she knew this one the least.
Somehow he'd always found his place in the background, away from
spotlight. She too, though Queen of Naboo, preferred the quiet
perspective of a shadow.
Maybe they had more in common than she thought. "This may be hard to
believe, but I know how you feel. I too have made a vow I must keep at
all costs."
"Even if that cost is the universe?"
She looked at him, puzzled. "What do you mean?"
Obi shifted uncomfortably. "Qui-gon was convinced that Anakin was the
chosen one. The one who will bring balance to the force." He explained.
"But I just don't know. If my master were still alive, we'd have had
the chance to debate it. Now, I must train Anakin."
Anakin. That name was being mentioned more and more in the world. He
was only a slave boy, won by Qui-gon in a dangerous race, but he was
slowly becoming a deciding factor for the future.
Anakin, the boy whose power ranked off the charts.
Anakin, whose daring courage had saved them all.
Anakin, too old to be trained properly, too young to be ignored.
Anakin, the one.
"He's a good person." Amidala answered, shivering suddenly without her
elaborate clothing. "Ani's so little, so innocent, but he's also
strong. With you as he mentor, he will become something great."
Without answering, Obi-wan rose, removed his cloak and draped it around
her arms. Brushing off stray dirt, he started walking. When he barely
remained in earshot, Amidala heard his words.
"So will you." The cloak hung heavy on her, and it's surprising soft
scent of spice teased her nose. She pulled it tighter and sighed.
The world was changing so fast. The sands were shifting, and it was all
one could do to not get sucked under.
*************
The gates opened freely as Obi-wan stepped back into the palace, as
though he were a usual friend. He turned down one corridor, carelessly
observing the rare artwork that decorated the walls. It was late and
most people were asleep. Only one door on the whole hallway hung
slightly ajar.
Obi considered checking in on the boy but then settled for searching
the force for any disturbances. When none were felt, he retired to his
own quarters. Even Jedis needed sleep.
Sleep, however, did not come.
Images did. Over and over, he saw Qui-gon's pained face, felt the saber
jab through his own chest. Anakin wasn't the only one who'd never had a
father. Obi remembered, vaguely, his mother's face. Of course he'd been
much younger than the boy was now; the baby-child that had toddled out
of the Kenobi home for the last time couldn't even speak properly. All
that was left of him was a sweet smile, warm soup comforting a cold
throat, an ancient song, and some special gift.
When he was old enough to really understand, he'd met with his master.
Qui-gon, the defiant knight, had been given a Padawan learner in hopes
of taming a bit of his brilliant independence. Instead, he'd become a
role model for little Obi-wan. The two were almost inseperable. Jedi's
prohibited romantic love, but could do nothing to prevent the
father-son bond that formed between them.
Watching his father die, *feeling* his father die, had cut deeper than
any saber could reach.
Obi-wan Kenobi turned over in his bed, closed his eyes, and sought
refuge in the Force.
*************
Amidala crept closer to the door, ready to drop off the cloak and
leave. She raised a hand to knock and-
"You probably shouldn't disturb him right now, he's pretty restless."
She turned to see Anakin, leaning against the doorframe and, in all
white pajamas and ruffled hair, looking very much a child.
"How can you tell?"
He shrugged and came to stand beside her. "I just know."
She nodded in response and slung the cloak around her arm. Smiling
softly, Amidala tugged at his arm and pulled him back into his bedroom.
"Come on, Ani. I'll tuck you in."
He made a face. "I'm almost a Jedi now, I can take care of myself," but
followed her just the same. The blankets were thick and lavish, perfect
for royal guests. Anakin jumped into them and snuggled deep. "I like it
here."
"I do too." She kissed him gently on the cheek. "Goodnight, Ani."
He could have been a royal Naboo native, if the scene before her was
his only past. The golden cuffs of his white tunic shimmered, most of
his small body sunk far into the bed. A peaceful, serene look settled
over his features, and a sigh escaped his lips.
Amidala closed the door and walked away. She was almost out of the hall
when she remember the robe. Obi, she suspected, didn't sleep nearly as
well. He, like all the other Jedi's that had ever visited the palace,
rejected the luxuries and opted for a single, thin blanket. It was
better, she supposed, to rely on the Force.
Against her better judgement, Amidala opened his door and slid inside.
To her relief, he was...out. Not dead, not sleeping, but definitely not
awake. True to her assumption, Obi lay covered by only the thinest of
the sheets. She spread the cloak over him, and peered down at his face.
It was troubled and marred by worry. One delicate hand smoothed over
the frown and she leaned down to kiss his cheek too. His soft skin
welcomed the touch and when she pulled back, Amidala could've sworn
that he'd stopped simply being and started sleeping.
Imagine that.
Stayed tuned for the next chapter...I think I shall call it "Beginning
Again" Any better ideas? Any comments at all? I'm at
Eileenblzr@yahoo.com
fanfic, but after seeing Ep.I again, I had to write this. This little
interest of mine, btw, is different for a good reason...I've never
really been noncannon before. Granted, I rejected Voyager Cannon during
the last half of the last season, but that was called for. Anyways,
this obsession, er, interest, is like my dance off to the side of
cannon.
So this is what it feels like.
Anyways, its set just after Ep.I and don't expect it to follow the same
pattern as the next ep.
The idea is mine, the characters are not (although, if you need me to
take young Obi off your hands, George, well I think I can be helpful)
The Greatest Force
Chapter One: Kindred Spirits
Obi-wan sat on the ground, his knees bent up, like a child waiting at
the curb for his mother. It was black, desite Naboo's three moons, and
the shadows on his face served as adequate veils for the dark thought
prancing through his minds.
The life of a Jedi was never easy; Obi knew that. He was well aware of
the dangers that were always nipping at his heels, plunding him head
first into battle after endless battle.
But they were never supposed to actually *catch* him. All at once,
every cocky, arrogant belief had been ripped away from him, leaving him
vulnerable to the gloomy sunset.
And the thoughts were the worst. He'd felt them first as he'd watched
his mentor and the dark Sith battle. Every clash of the sabers, every
low hit Darth Maul took, every time evil fed off of some unseen power,
Obi-wan had tasted a strange flavor. Something bitter, sour, yet
undeniably addictive. When Qui-gon fell, it had flooded his senses,
unceasless, until his enemy's body had cascaded roughly to its end.
He told no one; the council would never have given him their approval
for Anakin if he had. Rather, Obi shoved it away.
He buried it. Forever.
He heard her approach, light steps on the uneven ground, even before
her hand touched his shoulder lightly. Obi looked up for just a moment,
barely catching the sorrow in her eyes. Amazing, how well she hid her
emotions. In all the comotion over Anakin, no one had realized the
potential that lay within this young girl. She took a seat beside him,
following his gaze into the sky.
"You two were very close, weren't you?"
"Usually. Every now and then we'd have some riff. Mostly whenever
Qui-gon insisted on disobeying the Council."
"And yet I heard you were ready to train Ani without their approval."
"I made a promise."
She paused. Of her two Jedi saviors, she knew this one the least.
Somehow he'd always found his place in the background, away from
spotlight. She too, though Queen of Naboo, preferred the quiet
perspective of a shadow.
Maybe they had more in common than she thought. "This may be hard to
believe, but I know how you feel. I too have made a vow I must keep at
all costs."
"Even if that cost is the universe?"
She looked at him, puzzled. "What do you mean?"
Obi shifted uncomfortably. "Qui-gon was convinced that Anakin was the
chosen one. The one who will bring balance to the force." He explained.
"But I just don't know. If my master were still alive, we'd have had
the chance to debate it. Now, I must train Anakin."
Anakin. That name was being mentioned more and more in the world. He
was only a slave boy, won by Qui-gon in a dangerous race, but he was
slowly becoming a deciding factor for the future.
Anakin, the boy whose power ranked off the charts.
Anakin, whose daring courage had saved them all.
Anakin, too old to be trained properly, too young to be ignored.
Anakin, the one.
"He's a good person." Amidala answered, shivering suddenly without her
elaborate clothing. "Ani's so little, so innocent, but he's also
strong. With you as he mentor, he will become something great."
Without answering, Obi-wan rose, removed his cloak and draped it around
her arms. Brushing off stray dirt, he started walking. When he barely
remained in earshot, Amidala heard his words.
"So will you." The cloak hung heavy on her, and it's surprising soft
scent of spice teased her nose. She pulled it tighter and sighed.
The world was changing so fast. The sands were shifting, and it was all
one could do to not get sucked under.
*************
The gates opened freely as Obi-wan stepped back into the palace, as
though he were a usual friend. He turned down one corridor, carelessly
observing the rare artwork that decorated the walls. It was late and
most people were asleep. Only one door on the whole hallway hung
slightly ajar.
Obi considered checking in on the boy but then settled for searching
the force for any disturbances. When none were felt, he retired to his
own quarters. Even Jedis needed sleep.
Sleep, however, did not come.
Images did. Over and over, he saw Qui-gon's pained face, felt the saber
jab through his own chest. Anakin wasn't the only one who'd never had a
father. Obi remembered, vaguely, his mother's face. Of course he'd been
much younger than the boy was now; the baby-child that had toddled out
of the Kenobi home for the last time couldn't even speak properly. All
that was left of him was a sweet smile, warm soup comforting a cold
throat, an ancient song, and some special gift.
When he was old enough to really understand, he'd met with his master.
Qui-gon, the defiant knight, had been given a Padawan learner in hopes
of taming a bit of his brilliant independence. Instead, he'd become a
role model for little Obi-wan. The two were almost inseperable. Jedi's
prohibited romantic love, but could do nothing to prevent the
father-son bond that formed between them.
Watching his father die, *feeling* his father die, had cut deeper than
any saber could reach.
Obi-wan Kenobi turned over in his bed, closed his eyes, and sought
refuge in the Force.
*************
Amidala crept closer to the door, ready to drop off the cloak and
leave. She raised a hand to knock and-
"You probably shouldn't disturb him right now, he's pretty restless."
She turned to see Anakin, leaning against the doorframe and, in all
white pajamas and ruffled hair, looking very much a child.
"How can you tell?"
He shrugged and came to stand beside her. "I just know."
She nodded in response and slung the cloak around her arm. Smiling
softly, Amidala tugged at his arm and pulled him back into his bedroom.
"Come on, Ani. I'll tuck you in."
He made a face. "I'm almost a Jedi now, I can take care of myself," but
followed her just the same. The blankets were thick and lavish, perfect
for royal guests. Anakin jumped into them and snuggled deep. "I like it
here."
"I do too." She kissed him gently on the cheek. "Goodnight, Ani."
He could have been a royal Naboo native, if the scene before her was
his only past. The golden cuffs of his white tunic shimmered, most of
his small body sunk far into the bed. A peaceful, serene look settled
over his features, and a sigh escaped his lips.
Amidala closed the door and walked away. She was almost out of the hall
when she remember the robe. Obi, she suspected, didn't sleep nearly as
well. He, like all the other Jedi's that had ever visited the palace,
rejected the luxuries and opted for a single, thin blanket. It was
better, she supposed, to rely on the Force.
Against her better judgement, Amidala opened his door and slid inside.
To her relief, he was...out. Not dead, not sleeping, but definitely not
awake. True to her assumption, Obi lay covered by only the thinest of
the sheets. She spread the cloak over him, and peered down at his face.
It was troubled and marred by worry. One delicate hand smoothed over
the frown and she leaned down to kiss his cheek too. His soft skin
welcomed the touch and when she pulled back, Amidala could've sworn
that he'd stopped simply being and started sleeping.
Imagine that.
Stayed tuned for the next chapter...I think I shall call it "Beginning
Again" Any better ideas? Any comments at all? I'm at
Eileenblzr@yahoo.com