*Title: Cerasi
*Author: Jania Jitsu
*Category: Angsty
*Spoilers: Jedi Apprentice books. Especially 5 and 6.
*Rating: PG, I suppose. Perhaps a light PG-13 for swearing.
*Season/Sequel Info:
*Warnings/Notes: I wrote this a year or two ago on an angst kick. I found it this morning at about one-thirty and was deeply amused by its melodrama. It's my earlier stuff--of course I'm amused! It's simply titled "Cerasi"--I never came up with anything better.
He came back. I almost thought- and I guess that I had hoped a little in the part of me that was still innocent and good- that he wouldn't. That he would choose to leave this hateful place forever after all. That he would return to wherever he came from; go on with his life and become what he always wanted to be. What he should be.
He should have. He should not have come back.
He walks towards me with a forced smile on his face. The smile would fool anyone else, but not me. I can see the pain in his eyes and it hurts me too. I wonder what happened that I did not see. (Did he and his Master-Jedi fight? If that is so, then was it just verbal or was it physical? Who won?) Whatever happened, I know that it must have been bad.
I feel so terrible. Damnable. It's all my fault and I know it.
He wouldn't be here if I hadn't used him. Yes, I used him. I USED HIM, DAMN IT! I didn't- no, never mind, I did mean to do it. I knew what I was doing. I knew it was wrong and I did it anyway. I used his emotions to solicit help because I knew that he would turn the odds in our favor.
I knew that he liked me. Like-liked me. Loved me. Whatever term you want to use. I also knew that our cause was swaying him. Making him uncertain about the path he was walking. So, what did I do? Something that a person with good morals would never conceive of doing: I led him on. I hinted that there might be something here for him besides death and war. I made it look like he could have a home, and power, and something to die for . . . and me.
Now, in my defense, I did come to love him eventually, although I don't guess I really believe in love at this age. I really didn't mean to do that, actually. It happened quite by accident. The first accident was that we became friends. But he was so sweet, so charming, so kind . . . I couldn't help it. He was smart and polite, and he always knew what I was thinking or feeling- sometimes even before I did.
He was so perfect and I made him pay an awful price, just so I could have him. He has lost everything, as I have lost everything. As we have all lost everything.
He sleeps. As always, it is restlessly. I watch him. His hair is longer now. It grows very quickly for hair. Every now and then he will run his fingers through it and mumble something about getting it cut properly. But I know he won't do it himself. Only his Master-Jedi can. He will grow his hair out until the end of time if that man doesn't come back.
Now his hands are clenched into fists. His eyes are shut tight and his mouth is in a frown. He didn't used to sleep like this. Not when his Master-Jedi was here. Once he had woken up with a start, like he does now. Only once. He quickly ran out of the room to his Master-Jedi, who was already coming to him. That's how close they were- they knew when the other woke up.
I could hear a little bit as they talked. His voice was scared, but the low, soothing tone his Master-Jedi used quickly calm down his fears. His Master-Jedi had woken up at the very moment he did, knowing that something was wrong. Obi-Wan came back a few minutes later and he went back to sleep okay.
He doesn't know that I know about his bad dreams. I think that he would be a little embarrassed. He thinks they're childish, but God knows he's gotten me through enough nightmares. When I wake up in a sweat, crying from fear, he tells me stories. Stories of his life before; of the Jedi. I know that he must miss them an awful lot. He has given up so much; lost more than me- maybe even more than Nield, depending on how you look at it. He had parents, but they gave him away so he could be something more. Then his dreams were almost destroyed- I'm not sure of all the details, just that his Master-Jedi finally took him in. But now he's lost that bond too.
I sit up quietly, but he is a Jedi. He can hear me. He turns to face me and his eyes are full of the pain and fear. I get up off my pallet and cross the room to his, as he has done so many times for me. I wince, looking at the empty pallet where Nield used to sleep. But Nield is gone now. He won't come back, no matter how much I kid myself, thinking that he might have a change of heart.
"Are you all right, Obi-Wan?" I ask quietly.
He nods slowly, swallows, takes a breath, and says, "Yes, Cerasi. I'm fine. Go back to sleep. I'm sorry I disturbed you. I'm fine," he repeats, to convince the both of us.
"Liar," I accuse. He smiles weakly and nods again. Yes, that was a lie. He is not okay. But are any of us really okay? Will we ever be okay again? I don't know those answers. I wish so much that I did.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask, trying to use that Jedi voice he always uses when he is trying to comfort me. I can't do it right. I just come off sounding uncomfortable and fake.
"I don't think I can," he whispers.
I wince on the inside. He sounds so hurt. Don't we have enough pain to go around here?
"Can you show me?" I ask tentatively. He has shown me things before- people, places I could only wish to visit, beautiful things. Sunsets and creatures. Waterfalls. He has also taken my bad dreams away from me like this. I figure I should return the favor.
He hesitates, then nods and holds up his hand for me. I meet it with mine and I am transported somewhere near and somewhere far.
I am no longer me. I am no longer Cerasi. I am now Obi-Wan Kenobi.
But I am not just one Obi-Wan Kenobi; I am two. One is about ten years older than the other. It feels strange- I am living two different events at the same time in the dream. In both, something bad is happening to someone I love dearly.
I can't move fast enough. I won't make it in time! I won't make it in time to save them! I don't.
And they both die because I did not make it.
"No!" I scream in agony- unadulterated anguish. "NOOOOOOO!" I scream my denial once more. Both of me run to hold them in my arms as they die right there in front of me.
Cerasi has been shot in the chest. She stares at me, her crystal-green eyes wide and confused. Her mouth opens and closes. She tries to reach my hand, but she goes limp and it drops onto her lap. She goes into death.
Master Qui-Gon has been impaled with a red lightsaber. (A lightsaber?!?) He urges me to train the boy. (what boy?) He wipes a tear from my cheek, and his blue eyes lose their focus. He sends a final loving message through our bond and then he dies. I feel the pain as I lose our bond. So he is gone from me as well now.
And all because I didn't move fast enough twice. It's all my fault. The two people I care about most died because I wasn't good enough. I cry for them and for me.
I gasp in shock and my hand drops into my lap, almost like it did in the dream. I have to remind myself that I am Cerasi. I am not Obi-Wan. I am still Cerasi. I am alive, even if I'm not quite well. I am surprised to find that I am shaking with my sobs and the tears that fall on my cheeks, and I am equally surprised that Obi-Wan is crying as well. I never saw him cry before.
"I'm sorry," he says contritely, almost ashamedly, quickly wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands. "I shouldn't have done that to you."
"No," I contradict forcefully, "I'm glad you did. Now I owe you one less." He looks at me quizzically, but I don't give him the chance to ask any questions. I don't want to tell him the truth of the extent of my debt- how I used him; how I lied. I don't want him to hate me. Not now, when I still need him with me. Maybe some other day.
"You've done this for me enough times," I continue quickly, "I should do this for you. It's only right," I say firmly. I pick up his hand with mine and close my eyes. I show him one of my few happy memories.
I am by the lake with my father and my mother. I am very young.
I wade in the clear, shallow water on the shore. It goes up to my waist. Tiny fish swim around my little legs. They tickle my knees and nip at my toes. I giggle and point at them.
My father makes a fishy face and I laugh and point at him now. See? See? Look at Daddy. Silly Daddy.
My mother shakes her head, but she is smiling broadly too. My Daddy could always make her laugh.
We are together. There is peace.
We are happy.
"Thank you," Obi-Wan whispers, as I always do for him when he shows me a memory or tells me a story of his past.
"Hey," I shrug, "it was the least I could do." He always brushes my thanks off, like everything is his duty. Well, this is mine.
He goes to sleep, exhausted, but I lie awake on my crappy bed half the night. His dream continued to haunt me. It disturbs me beyond belief. Naturally. I mean, come on, I die in it, for the love of God!
When I finally do fall asleep, I am far too tired to dream, which is just as well. They would have been bad, and I've had enough bad dreams to last seven lives.
-- ) + -- ( ~*~ ) -- + ( --
"No!" I shout, running between the two warring groups. "This cannot happen! You mustn't do this!" We have worked so hard! Will there never be peace?
Not like this, I think bitterly. Not like this.
"Cerasi, no!" Obi-Wan shouts in warning, springing forward into a run, but it is too late. The damage has been done. I look down at my chest; at the blaster shots with little droplets of blood that decorate my shirt like dark red jewels of death. I am dimly aware of how melodramatic this thought is.
I am moving towards the earth. I don't know whether it is quickly or slowly- for some reason I cannot relate to time anymore. Obi-Wan catches me in his arms and lays me gently on the ground. There is a deep silence all around. No one in that huge crowd is speaking. The only voice that I hear is Obi-Wan's.
"You'll be okay," he assures me. "Can you hear me?" he asks desperately. Then he reminds me: "You don't need luck. Cerasi!"
Yes, Obi-Wan, I do need luck. Now.
He calls my name mournfully. "Cerasi!"
"I'm so, so very sorry," I say. But I don't think he can hear me. I don't even think my lips have moved. He holds up his hand and I try to touch it with mine. Suddenly I feel that he needs to know.
But I haven't got the strength . . . I need to go to sleep . . . My hand drops down into my lap. It's too much work, keeping it up there. I will tell him when I wake up.
The last thing I see as I drift off into my deep, nightmare-less sleep is Obi-Wan's anguished face. The last sound I hear is his mournful cry. "NOOOOO!"
finis
*Author: Jania Jitsu
*Category: Angsty
*Spoilers: Jedi Apprentice books. Especially 5 and 6.
*Rating: PG, I suppose. Perhaps a light PG-13 for swearing.
*Season/Sequel Info:
*Warnings/Notes: I wrote this a year or two ago on an angst kick. I found it this morning at about one-thirty and was deeply amused by its melodrama. It's my earlier stuff--of course I'm amused! It's simply titled "Cerasi"--I never came up with anything better.
He came back. I almost thought- and I guess that I had hoped a little in the part of me that was still innocent and good- that he wouldn't. That he would choose to leave this hateful place forever after all. That he would return to wherever he came from; go on with his life and become what he always wanted to be. What he should be.
He should have. He should not have come back.
He walks towards me with a forced smile on his face. The smile would fool anyone else, but not me. I can see the pain in his eyes and it hurts me too. I wonder what happened that I did not see. (Did he and his Master-Jedi fight? If that is so, then was it just verbal or was it physical? Who won?) Whatever happened, I know that it must have been bad.
I feel so terrible. Damnable. It's all my fault and I know it.
He wouldn't be here if I hadn't used him. Yes, I used him. I USED HIM, DAMN IT! I didn't- no, never mind, I did mean to do it. I knew what I was doing. I knew it was wrong and I did it anyway. I used his emotions to solicit help because I knew that he would turn the odds in our favor.
I knew that he liked me. Like-liked me. Loved me. Whatever term you want to use. I also knew that our cause was swaying him. Making him uncertain about the path he was walking. So, what did I do? Something that a person with good morals would never conceive of doing: I led him on. I hinted that there might be something here for him besides death and war. I made it look like he could have a home, and power, and something to die for . . . and me.
Now, in my defense, I did come to love him eventually, although I don't guess I really believe in love at this age. I really didn't mean to do that, actually. It happened quite by accident. The first accident was that we became friends. But he was so sweet, so charming, so kind . . . I couldn't help it. He was smart and polite, and he always knew what I was thinking or feeling- sometimes even before I did.
He was so perfect and I made him pay an awful price, just so I could have him. He has lost everything, as I have lost everything. As we have all lost everything.
He sleeps. As always, it is restlessly. I watch him. His hair is longer now. It grows very quickly for hair. Every now and then he will run his fingers through it and mumble something about getting it cut properly. But I know he won't do it himself. Only his Master-Jedi can. He will grow his hair out until the end of time if that man doesn't come back.
Now his hands are clenched into fists. His eyes are shut tight and his mouth is in a frown. He didn't used to sleep like this. Not when his Master-Jedi was here. Once he had woken up with a start, like he does now. Only once. He quickly ran out of the room to his Master-Jedi, who was already coming to him. That's how close they were- they knew when the other woke up.
I could hear a little bit as they talked. His voice was scared, but the low, soothing tone his Master-Jedi used quickly calm down his fears. His Master-Jedi had woken up at the very moment he did, knowing that something was wrong. Obi-Wan came back a few minutes later and he went back to sleep okay.
He doesn't know that I know about his bad dreams. I think that he would be a little embarrassed. He thinks they're childish, but God knows he's gotten me through enough nightmares. When I wake up in a sweat, crying from fear, he tells me stories. Stories of his life before; of the Jedi. I know that he must miss them an awful lot. He has given up so much; lost more than me- maybe even more than Nield, depending on how you look at it. He had parents, but they gave him away so he could be something more. Then his dreams were almost destroyed- I'm not sure of all the details, just that his Master-Jedi finally took him in. But now he's lost that bond too.
I sit up quietly, but he is a Jedi. He can hear me. He turns to face me and his eyes are full of the pain and fear. I get up off my pallet and cross the room to his, as he has done so many times for me. I wince, looking at the empty pallet where Nield used to sleep. But Nield is gone now. He won't come back, no matter how much I kid myself, thinking that he might have a change of heart.
"Are you all right, Obi-Wan?" I ask quietly.
He nods slowly, swallows, takes a breath, and says, "Yes, Cerasi. I'm fine. Go back to sleep. I'm sorry I disturbed you. I'm fine," he repeats, to convince the both of us.
"Liar," I accuse. He smiles weakly and nods again. Yes, that was a lie. He is not okay. But are any of us really okay? Will we ever be okay again? I don't know those answers. I wish so much that I did.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask, trying to use that Jedi voice he always uses when he is trying to comfort me. I can't do it right. I just come off sounding uncomfortable and fake.
"I don't think I can," he whispers.
I wince on the inside. He sounds so hurt. Don't we have enough pain to go around here?
"Can you show me?" I ask tentatively. He has shown me things before- people, places I could only wish to visit, beautiful things. Sunsets and creatures. Waterfalls. He has also taken my bad dreams away from me like this. I figure I should return the favor.
He hesitates, then nods and holds up his hand for me. I meet it with mine and I am transported somewhere near and somewhere far.
I am no longer me. I am no longer Cerasi. I am now Obi-Wan Kenobi.
But I am not just one Obi-Wan Kenobi; I am two. One is about ten years older than the other. It feels strange- I am living two different events at the same time in the dream. In both, something bad is happening to someone I love dearly.
I can't move fast enough. I won't make it in time! I won't make it in time to save them! I don't.
And they both die because I did not make it.
"No!" I scream in agony- unadulterated anguish. "NOOOOOOO!" I scream my denial once more. Both of me run to hold them in my arms as they die right there in front of me.
Cerasi has been shot in the chest. She stares at me, her crystal-green eyes wide and confused. Her mouth opens and closes. She tries to reach my hand, but she goes limp and it drops onto her lap. She goes into death.
Master Qui-Gon has been impaled with a red lightsaber. (A lightsaber?!?) He urges me to train the boy. (what boy?) He wipes a tear from my cheek, and his blue eyes lose their focus. He sends a final loving message through our bond and then he dies. I feel the pain as I lose our bond. So he is gone from me as well now.
And all because I didn't move fast enough twice. It's all my fault. The two people I care about most died because I wasn't good enough. I cry for them and for me.
I gasp in shock and my hand drops into my lap, almost like it did in the dream. I have to remind myself that I am Cerasi. I am not Obi-Wan. I am still Cerasi. I am alive, even if I'm not quite well. I am surprised to find that I am shaking with my sobs and the tears that fall on my cheeks, and I am equally surprised that Obi-Wan is crying as well. I never saw him cry before.
"I'm sorry," he says contritely, almost ashamedly, quickly wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands. "I shouldn't have done that to you."
"No," I contradict forcefully, "I'm glad you did. Now I owe you one less." He looks at me quizzically, but I don't give him the chance to ask any questions. I don't want to tell him the truth of the extent of my debt- how I used him; how I lied. I don't want him to hate me. Not now, when I still need him with me. Maybe some other day.
"You've done this for me enough times," I continue quickly, "I should do this for you. It's only right," I say firmly. I pick up his hand with mine and close my eyes. I show him one of my few happy memories.
I am by the lake with my father and my mother. I am very young.
I wade in the clear, shallow water on the shore. It goes up to my waist. Tiny fish swim around my little legs. They tickle my knees and nip at my toes. I giggle and point at them.
My father makes a fishy face and I laugh and point at him now. See? See? Look at Daddy. Silly Daddy.
My mother shakes her head, but she is smiling broadly too. My Daddy could always make her laugh.
We are together. There is peace.
We are happy.
"Thank you," Obi-Wan whispers, as I always do for him when he shows me a memory or tells me a story of his past.
"Hey," I shrug, "it was the least I could do." He always brushes my thanks off, like everything is his duty. Well, this is mine.
He goes to sleep, exhausted, but I lie awake on my crappy bed half the night. His dream continued to haunt me. It disturbs me beyond belief. Naturally. I mean, come on, I die in it, for the love of God!
When I finally do fall asleep, I am far too tired to dream, which is just as well. They would have been bad, and I've had enough bad dreams to last seven lives.
-- ) + -- ( ~*~ ) -- + ( --
"No!" I shout, running between the two warring groups. "This cannot happen! You mustn't do this!" We have worked so hard! Will there never be peace?
Not like this, I think bitterly. Not like this.
"Cerasi, no!" Obi-Wan shouts in warning, springing forward into a run, but it is too late. The damage has been done. I look down at my chest; at the blaster shots with little droplets of blood that decorate my shirt like dark red jewels of death. I am dimly aware of how melodramatic this thought is.
I am moving towards the earth. I don't know whether it is quickly or slowly- for some reason I cannot relate to time anymore. Obi-Wan catches me in his arms and lays me gently on the ground. There is a deep silence all around. No one in that huge crowd is speaking. The only voice that I hear is Obi-Wan's.
"You'll be okay," he assures me. "Can you hear me?" he asks desperately. Then he reminds me: "You don't need luck. Cerasi!"
Yes, Obi-Wan, I do need luck. Now.
He calls my name mournfully. "Cerasi!"
"I'm so, so very sorry," I say. But I don't think he can hear me. I don't even think my lips have moved. He holds up his hand and I try to touch it with mine. Suddenly I feel that he needs to know.
But I haven't got the strength . . . I need to go to sleep . . . My hand drops down into my lap. It's too much work, keeping it up there. I will tell him when I wake up.
The last thing I see as I drift off into my deep, nightmare-less sleep is Obi-Wan's anguished face. The last sound I hear is his mournful cry. "NOOOOO!"
finis
