Catharsis
by Loryn Wilde
Timeframe: Obi Wan is 16
Summary: When Qui Gon and Obi Wan are captured by a dangerous, evil man, Obi Wan is tortured in both mind and body. They are able to escape, but can Qui Gon really set his Padawan free?
(That was unforgivably corny.)
Rating: PG-13 for violence.
Feedback: A resounding yes!!!
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and words technically, I suppose, belong to Fox or George Lucas or somebody, but don't they belong to us all? In the grand scheme of things, I mean? Deep down you understand.
Catharsis: 1
Qui Gon Jinn could hear the screaming through the walls.
It pained him, but he could do nothing for it; not now. The Force had been taken from him. Now he could feel only inklings of it, frail strands that seeped into his being and left him as soon as he tried to get a firm grasp on them. Slowly, deliberately, he was gathering them, willing them closer and binding them together. Some were brittle and crumbled at his touch, but doggedly he continued, seeking the strong ones and drawing them to him. Already, he could feel the comforting buzz of the Living Force at the back of his mind.
He sat in the center of the dank cell, legs folded in front of him, face relaxed and eyes closed. Still dressed in his Jedi robes, long hair pulled neatly back and away from his face, he seemed almost untouched by the surrounding filth of the cell. His hands rested loosely on his knees; with a glance one could assume he was dozing.
So far he had achieved some success with not letting the heart wrenching pleas from the other room interfere with his work, but a sudden sharp cry, followed by harsh sobs, pierced through his concentration. Qui Gon's eyes flew open and he cocked his head at the sudden silence. There was something else happening in the next room and he strained his ears to hear what it was.
He could only just make out the words, soft as they were. He recognized both voices. The first was the man responsible for this, Bro'ven Shahn. Qui Gon could feel the evil he emanated even from where he sat. It seemed to creep right through the cracks in the filthy stone wall. He tone was condescending, cruel. Qui Gon could almost see the malevolent smile which most certainly must have twisted the Rii'Diarian's lips as he spoke.
The other voice was even more difficult to understand and he cringed at the raggedness of it. The respite from torture only lasted a moment, if that. The raw screams soon returned.
Qui Gon closed his eyes and released a long breath. There was no doubt in his mind that he could stop that cruelty. He had that power. A sorrowful ache spiked through him at that thought. More than anything, he wanted to end the pain, or, at the very least, replace its recipient with himself.
But he could do neither.
They knew the boy was important to him; they knew Qui Gon made the decisions. They sought to hurt him through the boy's torture. Qui Gon allowed himself a bitter smile.
They were hurting him, all right. Each agonized moan, cry, and scream killed him a little more. A sad pride filled him as he thought back to earlier (had it been three hours? four?), when he had been allowed to remain with his student. Obi Wan had not let out a peep, and the means used to break him had been considerable. The ache in Qui Gon's heart grew as he tried to imagine what damage must be inflicted on his student to make him scream the way he did.
Qui Gon resettled himself on the cool stone floor and closed his eyes. He did not want to imagine. With fresh determination, he returned to his work.
by Loryn Wilde
Timeframe: Obi Wan is 16
Summary: When Qui Gon and Obi Wan are captured by a dangerous, evil man, Obi Wan is tortured in both mind and body. They are able to escape, but can Qui Gon really set his Padawan free?
(That was unforgivably corny.)
Rating: PG-13 for violence.
Feedback: A resounding yes!!!
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and words technically, I suppose, belong to Fox or George Lucas or somebody, but don't they belong to us all? In the grand scheme of things, I mean? Deep down you understand.
Catharsis: 1
Qui Gon Jinn could hear the screaming through the walls.
It pained him, but he could do nothing for it; not now. The Force had been taken from him. Now he could feel only inklings of it, frail strands that seeped into his being and left him as soon as he tried to get a firm grasp on them. Slowly, deliberately, he was gathering them, willing them closer and binding them together. Some were brittle and crumbled at his touch, but doggedly he continued, seeking the strong ones and drawing them to him. Already, he could feel the comforting buzz of the Living Force at the back of his mind.
He sat in the center of the dank cell, legs folded in front of him, face relaxed and eyes closed. Still dressed in his Jedi robes, long hair pulled neatly back and away from his face, he seemed almost untouched by the surrounding filth of the cell. His hands rested loosely on his knees; with a glance one could assume he was dozing.
So far he had achieved some success with not letting the heart wrenching pleas from the other room interfere with his work, but a sudden sharp cry, followed by harsh sobs, pierced through his concentration. Qui Gon's eyes flew open and he cocked his head at the sudden silence. There was something else happening in the next room and he strained his ears to hear what it was.
He could only just make out the words, soft as they were. He recognized both voices. The first was the man responsible for this, Bro'ven Shahn. Qui Gon could feel the evil he emanated even from where he sat. It seemed to creep right through the cracks in the filthy stone wall. He tone was condescending, cruel. Qui Gon could almost see the malevolent smile which most certainly must have twisted the Rii'Diarian's lips as he spoke.
The other voice was even more difficult to understand and he cringed at the raggedness of it. The respite from torture only lasted a moment, if that. The raw screams soon returned.
Qui Gon closed his eyes and released a long breath. There was no doubt in his mind that he could stop that cruelty. He had that power. A sorrowful ache spiked through him at that thought. More than anything, he wanted to end the pain, or, at the very least, replace its recipient with himself.
But he could do neither.
They knew the boy was important to him; they knew Qui Gon made the decisions. They sought to hurt him through the boy's torture. Qui Gon allowed himself a bitter smile.
They were hurting him, all right. Each agonized moan, cry, and scream killed him a little more. A sad pride filled him as he thought back to earlier (had it been three hours? four?), when he had been allowed to remain with his student. Obi Wan had not let out a peep, and the means used to break him had been considerable. The ache in Qui Gon's heart grew as he tried to imagine what damage must be inflicted on his student to make him scream the way he did.
Qui Gon resettled himself on the cool stone floor and closed his eyes. He did not want to imagine. With fresh determination, he returned to his work.
