A Rose's Thorn

A/N : I'm dreadfully sorry it's taken so long to update. I really didn't know what to do with this chapter. I'm at an awkward point in the story. It's building up the turning point, but I'm not exactly sure how I want to get there. So, be patient on these next few chapters. I have no idea what lies directly ahead. However, if you'd like to know the ending.... *grins* So, anyway, it's time for shameless advertising! My little home on the web has finally gone from a cruddy space on geocities to a lovely domain! Yes, my beautiful dollhouse has finally been hosted! Feel free to visit and sign my guestbook if you'd like : http://wednesday.random-crapola.net *smiles*. Also, thank you SO much for the reviews. Those reviews are what kept me working on this chapter when I thought it was just going nowhere. In fact, I'm still not sure if it went anywhere... but if anything, Obi-Wan is quite lovely in this chapter (yes, more so than usual, and it is possible). Please keep reviewing and let me know if the story gets to be disappointing... I re-write chapters if I must. ~Nicole





Chapter 5 : Frigid Fate

"To die, to sleep;

To sleep, perchance to dream.

Aye, there's the rub,

For in that sleep of death

what dreams may come. . ."

~"Hamlet" - William Shakespeare





As he stood dressed in a pair of long, black, satin pants and matching robe that was left open just a tad too much, Obi-Wan Kenobi was a feast for the eyes. The room he was presently located within was a small, peaceful chamber. Silky pillows covered the limited floor space; some of the pillows rested against the walls making comfortable little corners for meditation. An enticing smell of various oils and incense gave the room an over-all exotic feeling. Small, intricately-designed lanterns hung from the ceiling, each holding one candle; they provided a soft glow that cascaded gently against Obi-Wan's olive-toned skin.

With a few gentle steps upon the pillowed floor, Obi-Wan nearly tip-toed toward the cozy corner. Quynah had mentioned it might be awhile before she returned, and Obi-Wan certainly did not want to stand around and gaze at comfy pillows while his body ached to sit and rest awhile. It had been two days since the young padawan had slept. Although it was common for a jedi master to go for days without rest, Obi-Wan was, despite popular belief, just a gifted padawan who needed his rest desperately.

After slowly sitting down in the mass of pillows, the sudden wave of comfort nearly caused the weary padawan to drift off to sleep right there. He struggled against the sudden heavy weight of his eyelids and forced his sea-change eyes to drift around a bit. In the soft glow, his orbs appeared gray with flecks of green sparkling within. It was an adorable sight really - an intoxicating, handsome padawan with half-open green eyes fighting off the need for sleep like a grumpy child determined to stay up past his bedtime.

"I should meditate," Obi-Wan mumbled, pushing himself closer to the wall in hopes sitting up straighter might help him stay awake. But too his dismay, it did not help. There were too many distractions for him to resist in such a vulnerable state. Of course, that was to the delight of the queen's attendant as she strolled back into the room and stopped to stare at the lovely sight before her dark eyes. She was not exactly sure how long she had been staring, but she was awakened from her sudden trance by a faint hint of drool rolling down toward her chin. With a quick swipe of her hand, the drool was gone, but a faint, rosy blush still hung upon her otherwise pale cheeks.

"Padawan Kenobi," she called softly, awakening the jedi who suddenly appeared quite embarrassed. "No, it's alright, do not be like that; you have no need to worry. You are very tired, and it is only natural to fall sleep when you are tired."

"But a jedi must... stay awake... alert," he mumbled softly as he stretched and stood up slowly. As he moved, his robe opened a bit more, allowing the soft candlelight to cascade gently across his chest.

Again Quynah was nearly persuaded to stop and stare, but the syringe in her hand reminded her of the tasks at hand. She softly treaded across the pillowed floor and until she reached the longest wall of the small room. Her slender fingertips gently tapped against a few buttons upon the keypad then stopped as a faint whirring noise was emitted from the wall. A narrow slit in the wall suddenly caused a long table to come out. Quynah pushed another button, locking the table in place when it seemed just long enough for Obi-Wan to lay down upon. She picked up a pillow from the corner and after placing it upon the table, she patted gently, "Come on, my little jedi," she said softly.

With slow footsteps, the weary jedi eventually reached Quynah and her little table. He hopped up slightly and sat upon the table; his legs dangled back-and-forth as he sat and awaited further instruction.

"Well, I suppose we should get the shot over with," she said softly as her eyes narrowed to gaze at the syringe. "You'll have to take that robe off, Padawan Kenobi."

Obi-Wan nodded and untied the satin belt. He shrugged his shoulders slightly, allowing the satin rope to slide delicately off his shoulders. The candlelight surrounding the handsome padawan seemed to nearly make him glow; it was moments such as this when Quynah truly loved her job more than anything else in the galaxy.

With such delicate fingers, it was a few minutes before the syringe was in place. She nearly cringed as it neared Obi-Wan's tender flesh. Suddenly his hand touched hers so softly that a chill ran down her spine and goose bumps tingled along her arm.

"You seem a little nervous, Miss Quynah. Don't worry, this won't hurt me or anything," he said in his soft accent as he gently guided her hand toward his awaiting arm. "You don't give the shots often, do you?"

"No," she murmured, "usually Vera gives the shots to the not-so-very special guests, and her majesty often tends to the jedi herself. Well, she did last time..." She placed the needle against his skin slightly and pushed the syringe until the blue formula was gone. With a gentle sort of care, she removed the needle and rubbed his slightly-red arm.

"Why did she tend to the jedi herself?" Obi-Wan inquired.

"You will find out soon enough, Padawan Kenobi," she whispered, nearly inaudibly as she cast a dismal gaze to the syringe. She lightly tapped another few buttons until another slit opened. She tossed the empty syringe inside and closed the tiny door. "No more questions; it makes it difficult to release the tension if you continue to trouble yourself with silly questions."

"I suppose you're right," Obi-Wan murmured, still dying to ask a million questions but too tired to argue with the determined attendant.

After sensing his curiosity, Quynah stated softly, "My little jedi, you will soon have all the answers you seek and perhaps a few more. Trust me, Padawan Kenobi, you truly don't want to know anything in advance."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Obi-Wan inquired.

She shifted her gaze toward her feet and to anything other than the weary padawan before her. Guilt was slowly beginning to wrap its cold arms around the slender girl, but she kept her conflicting emotions guarded from him. He would know soon enough, she noted, so why trouble him anymore. "Nothing truly," Quynah finally said, tapping her delicate fingers against the pillow. "Do not worry yourself with questions. You are very tired, Padawan Ken-"

"Obi-Wan," he corrected with a hint of his charming smile tugging at his lips.

"Obi-Wan," she repeated. "Now, shall we begin your treatment? I assure you, you shall feel much better once some of the tension is released. You can even nap, if you like. I promise I will not report it to your master..."

"That would be lovely," Obi-Wan replied, offering his smile as he slowly stretched out upon the table. Although he usually preferred to sleep upon his back, at this point he truly didn't care whether he was comfortable or not. He tilted his head to the left, glancing at Quynah for a moment. There was something about her, he pondered, but he wasn't quite sure what. Something elusive... The same dark feeling from his previous meditations draped itself over Obi-Wan's clouded mind.



~*~



With a rough push, the guards forced Wespero into what they so lovingly referred to as 'the tower'. He hadn't expected such a shove and ended up tumbling upon the floor, landing against a part of the wall within the dark chamber. After a loud slam, the door was closed, followed by the loud clicks of the various locks being put back in place.

The Hothian 'ambassador' groaned softly, holding his side from where he hit the cold, stone wall. He squinted slightly to adjust his eyes to the much darker environment. A few small laser-powered lights lined the edges of the high ceiling. The room, he thought, was quite large, although oddly shaped. It seemed to be circular, but it was hard to judge in such dim lighting. He slowly moved his hand along the wall, pushing himself up to stand again. As he did so, he discovered a slight reflection coming off the wall. With his other hand he rubbed his eyes and squinted again. He moved his hand to the reflecting part of the wall, and nearly cried out from how bitterly cold the glass pane was. The middle portion of the wall was made of glass - a window to the terrain of Hoth. He noted the room wasn't as cold as the window itself, but suddenly a thought occurred to him. Sure, he had heard the rumors, but he hadn't believed anyone could be so cruel. The moon would be rising along the Hothian skyline soon, and its horrid beam would fill the tower with its light. He cringed and lightly touched the black, jagged scar upon his face from where the lights in the 'Eternal Darkness' had burned him.

"Damn," he murmured, unsure of what to do to get himself out of such a predicament. He glanced around the room again once his eyes were better adjusted. As he stared across the length of the room, his gaze was met by three others.

"Masters," Wespero breathed, moving across the room with hesitant footsteps.



~*~

The tall jedi master glanced around the small room. In appearances, it was similar to the one Obi-Wan was located in, but a different aura filled the room. The elusive darkness his padawan felt did not exist in this room. After taking another brief glimpse through their bond, Qui-Gon finally released a short sigh. A strange sort of concern for his padawan had slipped upon Qui-Gon like a coat which he took on-and-off whenever he so desired.

Master Jinn did not like the attire provided by the Hothian palace and certainly did not want to wear it. But he also did not want to take the risk of causing an intergalactic dispute with such a frivolously warped queen, so he complied and dressed in a pair of blue, satin pants. He folded his arms across his bare chest; the robe was just going too far. After sensing the presence of Vera nearing the doorway, he turned to acknowledge her but gasped when she nearly collapsed. With his jedi speed, he rushed to the doorway to catch the fragile, young woman before she lost her grip upon the stone doorway.

"Thank you, Master Jinn," she breathed, gasping slightly. Beads of sweat gently glided down her pale forehead and rested against her high cheekbones. She tried to push them away with her slender fingertips, but their constant tremble made the simple task nearly impossible.

"What's wrong, Vera?" Qui-Gon asked gently.

"Kieran's dead," she whispered.

"Dead? But... how do you-" Qui-Gon inquired.

"When we establish emotional ties with someone," Vera quickly explained, pausing suddenly to gasp for air, then returning to her speech constantly, "we can feel everything - happiness, sadness, pain, joy... everything, if the bond is strong enough. When someone dies, we feel what they were feeling... in Kieran's case, shock, confusion, grief.."

As tears began to roll down the blue swirl upon her cheek, she quickly moved away from Qui-Gon. "We... we need to begin your treatment..." she murmured as she tapped upon the keypad and awaited the table's appearance.

"Vera, it's alright. I can meditate quite nicely in here and relieve all the tension and stress. You need time to... deal with your emotions," he stated.

"Deal with my emotions?" she said, turning suddenly, a strange look blazing in her dark eyes, "Spoken like a true jedi gentleman..."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Qui-Gon nearly snapped.

"Jedi don't seem to enjoy emotions, not when they're directly involved. However, Padawan Kenobi is a different case. He thrives upon his emotions, and you don't like that. No, not at all, and certainly not when those emotions are directed at you," Vera stated.

"Vera, your present emotional state is not related to-" Qui-Gon started to retort.

"How do you know what it's related to, Master Jinn?" she hissed as a choked sob escaped her lips. "You don't know how to feel emotion any more, and you scorn those who do. You have no clue what emotions are related to because you are dead inside... you're cold and dead inside..."

~*~



Quynah sprinkled several drops of healing oils upon the young padawan's back and gently massaged his shoulders until it was absorbed. Of course, the process was very slow, not that the queen's attendant minded at all. "You carry your stress in your shoulders, my little jedi," she said softly, "and I must admit you have more stress than any other I have given the treatment to."

"I can't imagine why," Obi-Wan mumbled softly.

"I am sure I can imagine it," Quynah said, a hint of a smile tugging at her usual pensive frown. "The life of a jedi must be quite exciting, yet quite stressful. So many duties and obligations. So many rules and regulations."

"Well, you can imagine it quite well," Obi-Wan replied.

"So many things to do and people to see. So many things to learn and things to practice. So many people to teach and masters who speak yet have nothing to say," she said. She had hit a nerve; she could feel it. A sudden tension began to twist about his left shoulder. "Maybe not so many. Perhaps just one. One master who speaks to hear himself talk, for he knows no one else listens. One master who gives rules that can not be followed, for he enjoys punishing those who do not deserve it. One master so cold, cruel, over-bearing..."

"He isn't like that," Obi-Wan whispered.

"Oh really?" Quynah replied, nearly inaudibly. "Enlighten me, my little jedi."

"He's just... been through some bad times. He doesn't know how to let go of things. He's disillusioned by the past, but he's an amazing Master, a glorious jedi knight, he's-" Obi-Wan whispered, struggling to justify his defense.

"He does not treat you as you should be treated," Quynah murmured.

"His treatment of me is just fine. Our quarters are very nice; he often cooks, but rarely cleans. He is a little cold, but it's understandable," he said.

"He does not respect you as you should be respected," Quynah pressed on.

"I am his padawan; I should respect him. As a master, he holds a different sort of respect for me. If he were to give too much, it would come as flattery and cause arrogance to swell within me," Obi-Wan said, clearly giving rehearsed answers - answers he had presented to the council, his friends, his admirers, to a queen's attendant.

"He does not love you as you should be loved," Quynah stated. Again, she had struck a nerve, but this time it was a different sort of nerve.

"But I love him, and that is all that matters," Obi-Wan replied.

Guilt twisted within the queen's attendant. Why had she been given such a task? This one, her little jedi, would not be so easily misguided. A silent tear rolled down her cheek as she thought of what she knew was to come.

"Oh my little jedi," she whispered, as Obi-Wan finally began to relax and drift off into a presently peaceful slumber, "I do hope he learns to love you. If he leaves you this time, my little jedi, I am not so sure you will be able to mend the pieces of your broken heart alone. Be strong, my little jedi."

Another tear rolled down her porcelain cheek as she kissed his cheek softly. "I am so sorry, my little jedi. You will never believe you are not a thorn in his side; his words will never leave you. His lack of love will be your downfall, yet his offer of love may be your means of survival. But will he ever learn to open his heart? I am not so sure, my little jedi," she whispered, as if to prepare him for the worst. "If anything, be strong for me. I will save you from this if no one else will. I promise you, my little jedi... I promise."