1 Note: I would like to thank whoever is still reading this poorly written,
badly thought out, slipshod story, lol. I'm going by the seat of my pants
with this one.
2
3 Catharsis: 5
Each step sent stabbing pains through his leg, and his breathing had been reduced to little more than strangled gasps, but Obi-Wan trudged onward. He had knotted one hand in the fabric of his tunic over his chest, as if that would ease his haggard panting.
It had begun to rain again moments ago, a steady downpour that adequately reflected the Padawan's miserable state. They had only been walking for two hours, but Obi-Wan's consciousness had seemed to dwindle and narrow down to the single speck on the horizon that represented the Mienke Sector, their intended destination. He reminded himself that, once there, all they needed to do was find the Republican cruiser they had arrived in and he could sleep; escape the agony he felt.
His insides seemed to have turned to mush, sloshing about and churning within him. He had almost been sick again soon after they had departed from the boarding house, but the feeling had passed, leaving him weary and shaken.
The land of Rii'Diaria was marshy and wet, sludge and mud clung to Obi- Wan's boots and trousers. It was also incredibly flat, with lots of low brush and a few tall trees dotting the landscape.
Oh, Force, but this was hard.
He stumbled but caught his footing before he could fall. Pain lanced through his injured leg and he steeled himself against it, grinding his teeth together in an instinctive and useless attempt to distract himself from the sharp pangs.
A grating cough escaped him and he grimaced. His head drooped forward and down, but his eyes remained transfixed on his goal.
It was so far away! Obi-Wan's heart sank as he realized that they had not even reached the halfway point and he was overly exhausted.
He felt a gentle weight on his shoulder, stilling him. Obi-Wan stopped walking but could not rip his eyes away from Mienke.
"We'll rest under that tree."
The words were soft and the breath warm against his ear.
Obi-Wan -knew- that if he looked away from that painfully slow growing spot in the distance he very well might collapse, so he did not. Somewhere he found the energy to bob his head.
Hands guided him away, off the trail. Obi-Wan craned his neck to keep the Mienke Sector in sight, but Qui-Gon softly nudged his head forward.
"It's not going anywhere. You're doing well, Obi-Wan."
The quiet encouragement eased the apprentice a little, and he let his Master escort him under the cover of the thick branches. Not much rainwater was able to penetrate the foliage above.
A palm pressed at the chilled skin of his nape, silently directing him to sit. Obi-Wan gratefully sank to the ground, hardly noticing its cold wetness under his soaking robe. He shivered and hunched his shoulders.
He was vaguely aware of Qui-Gon settling beside him, and did not protest when the older Jedi put an arm around him.
His leg throbbed in agony. His head swam from the exertion. His chest hurt. Breathing came with the feeling of sharp daggers piercing his lungs.
Obi-Wan was cold. He felt benumbed and insentient. He longed for the peace he had felt the previous night. He had slept over nine hours but now felt as if he had been walking for days.
He shivered again. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and reached inward for some semblance of tranquility.
Immediately, Qui-Gon was there, shushing his frustrations and guiding him to his center. Soon his pain lessened and Obi-Wan threw his Master a tired smile in gratitude.
Qui-Gon caught the Padawan's chin in his hand and tilted the face upwards. He examined his apprentice's eyes carefully.
Obi-Wan sat up straighter under the scrutiny, but Qui-Gon was not fooled.
"You cannot keep going like this."
Obi-Wan's face fell.
"Yes, I can." He felt stymied at the hoarseness of his voice and pressed his nails into his palms, annoyed with himself. "You even said I could-"
"You have the spirit, Padawan, but I'm concerned about what this is physically costing you."
Obi-Wan said nothing.
Qui-Gon thinned his lips to a tight line. It was all too easy for him to see Obi-Wan's suffering. While he held nothing but respect for the dogged determination in the youth, he could not let this continue unaided. He had watched as his Padawan's lucid thoughts had deteriorated into something monotonous and numb while they trekked through the rain and mud.
"But we don't have a choice," he murmured, "Do we?"
Obi-Wan remained silent, unsure how to respond. He sensed his Master's agitation at the situation through their bond and could see it in the thin lines around the older man's mouth.
Qui-Gon shook his head and leaned forward to inspect his Padawan's leg. The knee was red and swollen despite the firm brace he had fitted. The Master placed his fingertips lightly on it and Obi-Wan winced sharply. Qui-Gon sent cooling waves of energy to the shattered bone inside, trying to persuade the injury to heal faster.
"Master-"
"Hush, Obi-Wan. Relax."
Qui-Gon slipped his hand inside the boy's tunic and pressed his palm flat on the cold chest. He could feel the slight tremors running through the Padawan and wished for the rain to finish its business.
The warmth of the Force flowed between them and Qui-Gon felt some of the tension in his student decline. He pulled back.
"Better?" He raised a brow in inquiry.
Obi-Wan exhaled shakily. He raised his eyes to meet Qui-Gon's and nodded.
"Thank you."
"Let's keep going."
* * *
Qui-Gon guessed that at least five hours had passed since they left. It had stopped raining since their rest, but the clouds still loomed heavily above them. Qui-Gon could not help but feel somewhat condemned and helpless under the power he knew they held.
Obi-Wan was on his right side, leaning heavily against him. He had an arm hooked around the teen's shoulders, keeping him upright.
A gust of cold wind caught their wet clothing and Obi-Wan shuddered.
"Let's stop for a moment," Qui-Gon suggested quietly.
His apprentice halted abruptly and sagged against him.
"We're almost there." The voice was dazed and soft.
Qui-Gon helped him sit. He fumbled with the water flask he had acquired from the hostel owner and held it to Obi-Wan's bruised lips. He supported his Padawan's head while the youth drank.
When he finished, Obi-Wan said again, "We're almost there." He stared at the gates of the Mienke Sector, now close enough to make out the skyscrapers and glint of ships coming and going, disappearing into the gray sky.
Qui-Gon sipped from the flask as well before hooking it back onto his belt and nodded.
"Yes, we are." He eyed his Padawan wearily. The pinched and confused look from the day before had returned. It was obvious that Obi-Wan was utterly drained, the surges of energy Qui-Gon sent him were ebbing away more quickly each time he sent them. Obi-Wan's body was in such dire need of strength that it sucked the Force powered aids dry immediately, like a parched mouth might when in indigence of water.
Jagged lightning suddenly tore through the clouds overhead and an awesome clap of thunder followed suit. Qui-Gon grimaced as the rain poured anew. He looked down at Obi-Wan, but the young Jedi eluded his gaze.
"Padawan-"
He felt the boy raise exhausted shields in his mind. They were weak, hardly an obstacle for the Master, but served as a polite request not to offer any comfort.
Qui-Gon clamped his mouth shut.
Obi-Wan's eyes narrowed and found their way back the Mienke Sector.
"We should go," he whispered, and Qui-Gon only just heard him over the downpour.
He helped the young man stand and they continued the last leg of their journey.
* * *
Mienke was teeming with Rii'Diarians and off-worlders despite the weather. Much of the place was roofed so that business could continue during the common thunderstorms.
Qui-Gon easily tread through the crowds, though, cradling Obi-Wan to his chest. The youth's broken leg, still supported by the brace, stuck out stiffly, awkwardly, and the Jedi Master made especial care not to let anyone or anything bump it.
He clearly remembered where their ship was docked and his stride was brisk, the hundred forty plus pounds in his arms and the weariness settling over him notwithstanding.
Qui-Gon glanced down at the face nestled against his shoulder and had to allow the briefest of smiles in spite of his concern.
They had reached the Mienke Sector nearly seven long hours after beginning their journey. Obi-Wan had awarded him with the most brilliant smile Qui- Gon had ever seen and promptly collapsed.
Qui-Gon was more than willing to cover this last, short distance for the two of them.
He had briefly considered bringing his student to a medical center, but finally decided that he wanted to leave the planet as soon as they reached their ship. He knew he could care for Obi-Wan sufficiently enough on the way back to Coruscant and, once they returned healers at the Jedi Temple could take over.
As he walked, Qui-Gon became aware of someone calling his name. Brows furrowed, he turned and searched the faces of the Rii'Diarians behind him.
"Master Jinn! Master Jinn!"
Then he caught sight of the short, compact figure waving its hands in the air for attention. The man rudely shoved past the throngs of citizens in his way and approached the Jedi, anger evident on his round face.
"Where the -Sith- have you been?!"
Obi-Wan stirred in Qui-Gon's arms and opened his eyes. The blue green orbs were cloudy and befuddled.
"Who's talking, Master?" he croaked. "Who is it?" He concentrated his unfocused gaze on his teacher's beard and tried very hard at not being sick.
"That, Obi-Wan," answered Qui-Gon, faintly amused and deeply disturbed, "is Minister Kai. Without his new Jedi escort."
2
3 Catharsis: 5
Each step sent stabbing pains through his leg, and his breathing had been reduced to little more than strangled gasps, but Obi-Wan trudged onward. He had knotted one hand in the fabric of his tunic over his chest, as if that would ease his haggard panting.
It had begun to rain again moments ago, a steady downpour that adequately reflected the Padawan's miserable state. They had only been walking for two hours, but Obi-Wan's consciousness had seemed to dwindle and narrow down to the single speck on the horizon that represented the Mienke Sector, their intended destination. He reminded himself that, once there, all they needed to do was find the Republican cruiser they had arrived in and he could sleep; escape the agony he felt.
His insides seemed to have turned to mush, sloshing about and churning within him. He had almost been sick again soon after they had departed from the boarding house, but the feeling had passed, leaving him weary and shaken.
The land of Rii'Diaria was marshy and wet, sludge and mud clung to Obi- Wan's boots and trousers. It was also incredibly flat, with lots of low brush and a few tall trees dotting the landscape.
Oh, Force, but this was hard.
He stumbled but caught his footing before he could fall. Pain lanced through his injured leg and he steeled himself against it, grinding his teeth together in an instinctive and useless attempt to distract himself from the sharp pangs.
A grating cough escaped him and he grimaced. His head drooped forward and down, but his eyes remained transfixed on his goal.
It was so far away! Obi-Wan's heart sank as he realized that they had not even reached the halfway point and he was overly exhausted.
He felt a gentle weight on his shoulder, stilling him. Obi-Wan stopped walking but could not rip his eyes away from Mienke.
"We'll rest under that tree."
The words were soft and the breath warm against his ear.
Obi-Wan -knew- that if he looked away from that painfully slow growing spot in the distance he very well might collapse, so he did not. Somewhere he found the energy to bob his head.
Hands guided him away, off the trail. Obi-Wan craned his neck to keep the Mienke Sector in sight, but Qui-Gon softly nudged his head forward.
"It's not going anywhere. You're doing well, Obi-Wan."
The quiet encouragement eased the apprentice a little, and he let his Master escort him under the cover of the thick branches. Not much rainwater was able to penetrate the foliage above.
A palm pressed at the chilled skin of his nape, silently directing him to sit. Obi-Wan gratefully sank to the ground, hardly noticing its cold wetness under his soaking robe. He shivered and hunched his shoulders.
He was vaguely aware of Qui-Gon settling beside him, and did not protest when the older Jedi put an arm around him.
His leg throbbed in agony. His head swam from the exertion. His chest hurt. Breathing came with the feeling of sharp daggers piercing his lungs.
Obi-Wan was cold. He felt benumbed and insentient. He longed for the peace he had felt the previous night. He had slept over nine hours but now felt as if he had been walking for days.
He shivered again. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and reached inward for some semblance of tranquility.
Immediately, Qui-Gon was there, shushing his frustrations and guiding him to his center. Soon his pain lessened and Obi-Wan threw his Master a tired smile in gratitude.
Qui-Gon caught the Padawan's chin in his hand and tilted the face upwards. He examined his apprentice's eyes carefully.
Obi-Wan sat up straighter under the scrutiny, but Qui-Gon was not fooled.
"You cannot keep going like this."
Obi-Wan's face fell.
"Yes, I can." He felt stymied at the hoarseness of his voice and pressed his nails into his palms, annoyed with himself. "You even said I could-"
"You have the spirit, Padawan, but I'm concerned about what this is physically costing you."
Obi-Wan said nothing.
Qui-Gon thinned his lips to a tight line. It was all too easy for him to see Obi-Wan's suffering. While he held nothing but respect for the dogged determination in the youth, he could not let this continue unaided. He had watched as his Padawan's lucid thoughts had deteriorated into something monotonous and numb while they trekked through the rain and mud.
"But we don't have a choice," he murmured, "Do we?"
Obi-Wan remained silent, unsure how to respond. He sensed his Master's agitation at the situation through their bond and could see it in the thin lines around the older man's mouth.
Qui-Gon shook his head and leaned forward to inspect his Padawan's leg. The knee was red and swollen despite the firm brace he had fitted. The Master placed his fingertips lightly on it and Obi-Wan winced sharply. Qui-Gon sent cooling waves of energy to the shattered bone inside, trying to persuade the injury to heal faster.
"Master-"
"Hush, Obi-Wan. Relax."
Qui-Gon slipped his hand inside the boy's tunic and pressed his palm flat on the cold chest. He could feel the slight tremors running through the Padawan and wished for the rain to finish its business.
The warmth of the Force flowed between them and Qui-Gon felt some of the tension in his student decline. He pulled back.
"Better?" He raised a brow in inquiry.
Obi-Wan exhaled shakily. He raised his eyes to meet Qui-Gon's and nodded.
"Thank you."
"Let's keep going."
* * *
Qui-Gon guessed that at least five hours had passed since they left. It had stopped raining since their rest, but the clouds still loomed heavily above them. Qui-Gon could not help but feel somewhat condemned and helpless under the power he knew they held.
Obi-Wan was on his right side, leaning heavily against him. He had an arm hooked around the teen's shoulders, keeping him upright.
A gust of cold wind caught their wet clothing and Obi-Wan shuddered.
"Let's stop for a moment," Qui-Gon suggested quietly.
His apprentice halted abruptly and sagged against him.
"We're almost there." The voice was dazed and soft.
Qui-Gon helped him sit. He fumbled with the water flask he had acquired from the hostel owner and held it to Obi-Wan's bruised lips. He supported his Padawan's head while the youth drank.
When he finished, Obi-Wan said again, "We're almost there." He stared at the gates of the Mienke Sector, now close enough to make out the skyscrapers and glint of ships coming and going, disappearing into the gray sky.
Qui-Gon sipped from the flask as well before hooking it back onto his belt and nodded.
"Yes, we are." He eyed his Padawan wearily. The pinched and confused look from the day before had returned. It was obvious that Obi-Wan was utterly drained, the surges of energy Qui-Gon sent him were ebbing away more quickly each time he sent them. Obi-Wan's body was in such dire need of strength that it sucked the Force powered aids dry immediately, like a parched mouth might when in indigence of water.
Jagged lightning suddenly tore through the clouds overhead and an awesome clap of thunder followed suit. Qui-Gon grimaced as the rain poured anew. He looked down at Obi-Wan, but the young Jedi eluded his gaze.
"Padawan-"
He felt the boy raise exhausted shields in his mind. They were weak, hardly an obstacle for the Master, but served as a polite request not to offer any comfort.
Qui-Gon clamped his mouth shut.
Obi-Wan's eyes narrowed and found their way back the Mienke Sector.
"We should go," he whispered, and Qui-Gon only just heard him over the downpour.
He helped the young man stand and they continued the last leg of their journey.
* * *
Mienke was teeming with Rii'Diarians and off-worlders despite the weather. Much of the place was roofed so that business could continue during the common thunderstorms.
Qui-Gon easily tread through the crowds, though, cradling Obi-Wan to his chest. The youth's broken leg, still supported by the brace, stuck out stiffly, awkwardly, and the Jedi Master made especial care not to let anyone or anything bump it.
He clearly remembered where their ship was docked and his stride was brisk, the hundred forty plus pounds in his arms and the weariness settling over him notwithstanding.
Qui-Gon glanced down at the face nestled against his shoulder and had to allow the briefest of smiles in spite of his concern.
They had reached the Mienke Sector nearly seven long hours after beginning their journey. Obi-Wan had awarded him with the most brilliant smile Qui- Gon had ever seen and promptly collapsed.
Qui-Gon was more than willing to cover this last, short distance for the two of them.
He had briefly considered bringing his student to a medical center, but finally decided that he wanted to leave the planet as soon as they reached their ship. He knew he could care for Obi-Wan sufficiently enough on the way back to Coruscant and, once they returned healers at the Jedi Temple could take over.
As he walked, Qui-Gon became aware of someone calling his name. Brows furrowed, he turned and searched the faces of the Rii'Diarians behind him.
"Master Jinn! Master Jinn!"
Then he caught sight of the short, compact figure waving its hands in the air for attention. The man rudely shoved past the throngs of citizens in his way and approached the Jedi, anger evident on his round face.
"Where the -Sith- have you been?!"
Obi-Wan stirred in Qui-Gon's arms and opened his eyes. The blue green orbs were cloudy and befuddled.
"Who's talking, Master?" he croaked. "Who is it?" He concentrated his unfocused gaze on his teacher's beard and tried very hard at not being sick.
"That, Obi-Wan," answered Qui-Gon, faintly amused and deeply disturbed, "is Minister Kai. Without his new Jedi escort."
