Thanks, Athena Leigh. Guess it'll be the last cliffhanger in the story.
I'm glad you like, Cerasi5. And some of them are still poor in this chapter *Makes an evil face*
Welcome to the club of weird people, Saran :-) And thanks
Here's a post for all of you.
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Obi-Wan looked around helplessly, searching for some kind of a weapon, anything to protect himself and the young woman next to him from the raging Dark Jedi. But the tiny cell held no weapon, and with a sinking feeling the Padawan realized that most likely they wouldn't get out of here alive. How was an unarmed eighteen-year-old Jedi apprentice supposed to fend of an armed adult man, who was much more skilled in combat and Force-usage? The answer was hanging in the air, simple as ever – no way.
An untamed panic washed over him, drowning him in its merciless blackness. Heart racing in his chest like it would jump out any minute, Obi-Wan gathered all the Force's power he could and threw out his hand, sending the Force at the dark killer. But the Dark Jedi was already moving to the side, the red 'saber cracking ominously in the stifling air of the cell.
In turn, Snadi sent a crashing blow at the young Jedi, which was supposed to catch him square in the chest, but didn't. Obi-Wan was out of the way milliseconds before the fist reached its target. Feeling encouraged by Snadi's failure to catch him, Obi-Wan threw him a mocking glance and saw the steely eyes light up with fury.
Lightsaber came down seemingly out of nowhere in a wide swipe, but Obi-Wan dodged it. He tried to catch Snadi's legs, but the dark one twisted out of his grip. The two of them faced each other again, completely forgetting about the woman who stood pressed into the corner, looking at them with wide green eyes that were ruled by an unveiled panic.
The two combatants started to move simultaneously, performing something that might have been a perfectly choreographed dance but was a lethal battle. Red flashed in the dusk of the room, cutting, slashing, weaving a pattern of death. The young Jedi seemed but a blurry whirlwind, filling the scarce space of the room with splashes of beige.
Adrenaline filled Obi-Wan's tired body, giving him new, badly-needed strength. He concentrated on the battle, giving himself wholly to it, not sparing a single bit of concentration to anything else. The world stopped to exist – only the fight and the need to win, the need to survive left.
Suddenly Obi-Wan remembered that they weren't alone here – and he glanced at Anisa. Belatedly, he realized his mistake as the 'saber came down on him, using the moment of distraction. A black blur rushed forward to insert itself between the deadly crimson blade and the young body it was bound to cut. Two screams mixed in one – a scream of denial and a scream of pain. But the echo of it was drowned out by the low grumble of a starship's engines.
The three froze in a mute surprise. Then the two Force-sensitives reached into the Force simultaneously. The bright strong presence abruptly filled their minds, causing one heart to leap in joy and one mouth to swear in anger and fright.
"Jinn!" Snadi spat, turning on his heels. He was gone in a flash of a Force-enhanced run.
Not loosing a second Obi-Wan kneeled next to Anisa, who lay crumpled on the floor, breathing heavily. An ugly burn marred her right side, torn material exposing the charred vulnerable flesh. At Obi-Wan's touch she opened her eyes, and he was struck with the intensity of pain he saw in their green murky depth.
She coughed, suffocating in the stuffy air of the cell. "Get me out of here," she said hoarsely, almost pleadingly.
With a curt nod he scooped her gently in his arms, aiding himself with the Force – with what tattered scraps of it he could gather.
Deep in his mind Obi-Wan wished Qui-Gon would come and offer his strength and comfort – the Padawan could barely stand, let alone carry Anisa's weight, no matter how light she was. But as the Master didn't seem to be in a hurry to appear out of nowhere and offer his help, Obi-Wan continued to move on his own.
Appear out of nowhere. What a weird thought! Have I gotten so used to people coming out of thin air – virtually – that I now expect my Master to do the same? He knew it was not the best time to wonder about such things but he needed to forget about his stiff limbs, about his aching arms and incredible weariness. The only thing he wanted was to sit down, close his eyes and vanish. Stop feeling anything for at least a few minutes. But he could not afford such luxury, and so he moved onward stubbornly.
He didn't even notice when they came out of the dark and dirty house out into the glade, covered with blinking and shifting pattern of shadows and patches of light. Obi-Wan suddenly knew that he could move no longer. Carefully he lowered Anisa onto the soft emerald grass. She moaned quietly and opened her eyes. Obi-Wan found himself staring into the shaded green orbs – just like in the club the whole lifetime ago…
Then she looked away.
"I hope you will be all right," Obi-Wan said, kneeling next to her, trying to catch her eyes again.
"Hope is a stupid feeling, Jedi," she said in an unexpectedly tired voice – as if a heavy burden had been placed on her soul, one she could never get rid of. Her face was still beautiful, but it was more of a mask – like a marble statue – than a beauty of a living being. Her eyes – suddenly huge and bright with some internal power – finally found his, and he felt himself pinned by the gaze of this helpless woman. The woman that wanted to take his soul. The woman that saved his life.
"Why did you do it?" he asked her then. "Why did you save me?"
She laughed at that, her laughter turning into agonized coughing fit.
"Don't you know what you are? Haven't anyone told you how much light you carry inside?" He looked at her, worry and confusion mixing on his face. "Yes, the light…" her voice became wistful, then she trailed off staring somewhere behind his back.
He again took in her lovely features and then, in a jolt of insight, he knew that she was going to die. And also he knew that he couldn't let her die. He remembered how she started to take his soul away. And now, he knew, he could save her. And he knew how: he could give her his soul. He leaned to her, not hesitating – not even for a heartbeat – and closed his lips over hers. He could feel it again, that feeling he experienced when they first kissed – and then with a surprising strength she shoved him away.
"What do you think you are doing?" she croaked, her voice hoarse.
"Not letting you die. You are going to die, aren't you?" he looked at her defiantly.
"No, pretty Jedi, you are trying to trade my life for yours," she smiled at him and he saw both admiration and reproach in her eyes. "But don't… My life is not worth it."
"Every life is worth saving," he argued, already knowing that he had lost, but not willing to give up.
"What about your own life?"
The noise in the forest indicated that the ship was landing somewhere close.
"Go," she said. "Go and may your Force save you."
"I will return for you. They will find a way to save you." He stood up and, giving her one last reassuring glance, ran into the woods to get his Master.
Five minutes later the two Jedi returned to the clearing… only to find the soulhunter gone. Feeling suddenly empty inside, Obi-Wan sat down onto the grass and stared at the place she had been lying on. He sat there silently until a heavy warm hand lowered onto his shoulder.
"Obi-Wan," the quiet voice of Qui-Gon said. And in those two syllables the Padawan felt all the compassion, love and support the tall Master held for him.
Without a word the young man stood up and looked into the midnight-blue eyes that he knew so well. Abruptly the world seemed to fade away, and he was falling, expecting to meet the hard ground but meeting two strong gentle arms instead.
"Careful, Padawan." The words reached him as though from a mist. He suddenly knew he was save and he let this knowledge wash over him, fill his whole being, giving in to the merciful darkness of sleep.
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Stars flowed slowly outside the viewport, throwing the lazy gaze of their brilliant eyes at the old battered ship that ventured into the velvet blackness of space. But the two people inside the ship paid no attention to the indifferent beauty outside their little transport.
Qu-Gon looked at the serene face of his sleeping apprentice, basked in a pale warm halo of one of the two suns Allura system was blessed with. The liquid radiance, originated from the harsh sunrays, refracted through the paristeel windows of the small sleeping chamber of the old and rusty Correlian ship, seemed to wrap itself around the still form on the bench. The young body under the blankets, so carefully wrapped around it, would soon heal from… Qui-Gon wasn't sure what exactly it was his padawan needed to heal from. The grounded quality of his mind prevented him from venturing into the realm of unknown and supernatural, whispering to him that such ideas were nothing but fairy tales for those who seek to believe in wonders. He, the venerable Jedi Master, never ranked himself into that category, and – though he would never realize it – he would deny the miracle even should it happen right under his nose. Such was Qui-Gon Jinn.
The form under the warm blanket shifted, explicating a soft murmur, a weak protest against the ghosts of dreams that held him in their illusive embraces. The Master stiffened, ready to offer any support should one be required, but the child awashed in the brilliance of light – Qui-Gon was ready to believe the light didn't only come from the sun outside, but from the boy himself – stilled again in a blissful slumber. The child. His child. Qui-Gon's heart ached with sweet pain, blunt and raw but oh so pleasant. This pain was much more than he had ever expected to feel – again. And he was grateful to the Force for letting him experience it. And he wondered if all the parents – the loving parents – experienced such pain, looking at their children, watching them sleep.
Tentatively Qui-Gon reached out his hand to stroke the gentle silkness of Obi-Wan's hair but stopped it in mid-air, loath to disturb such a perfect vision. He felt that touching the boy now would be to intrude into the shining world of light and Force that seemed to have formed around the young man – who was happily ignorant of all this. So the Master settled back in his chair, content to watch and stand guard of his padawan's sleep. And to remember, for there was much to remember.
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Allura met the small transport with a happy blaze of ever-present sun – whichever of the two suns it was. The familiar spaceport was already looming ahead when Qui-Gon heard the soft padding of footsteps behind his back.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked, giving his apprentice a small smile, which almost hid in his beard.
If anything, Obi-Wan looked as though he had just came out of his room back at the Temple – sleepy, with the disheveled hair, still wrapped in the voluminous brown warm blanket that hang on him like some toga, trailing behind him on the floor.
"Uh-huh," the young man yawned widely, then lowered himself into a copilot's seat and gazed outside. "Allura?"
The older man nodded. The boy looked serene, but the Master knew better. He could almost feel the struggle, the attempts to appear calm while the memory of that woman – Qui-Gon frowned – the woman who almost took his soul and life – the memory held his heart in turmoil. Qui-Gon had no idea of what had transpired in the last few hours preceding his reunion with his padawan, but it was clear for him that something drastic had happened, something that made Obi-Wan's attitude to Anisa turn to complete opposite. And it was not only something in the relationship of the two, it was something within the apprentice himself.
For a moment Qui-Gon considered the bond they shared. It was… shaky, if such a term could be applied to the mental link. However, it was no wonder – Qui-Gon was fairly surprised to find the bond working at all after it had been ripped like that. The return of the bond had been unexpected and unpleasant, to say the least. Qui-Gon rubbed his forehead slightly in vain attempt to drive away the illusive remnants of pain. Catching Obi-Wan's concerned glance the Master smiled reassuringly.
"Do you remember anything from after…" The look on Obi-Wan's face told Qui-Gon he didn't need to continue.
"Well… I do remember something, pretty much in fact." A quick glance at the older man. "I remember how you talked to me and all…" Qui-Gon nodded, urging him on. "And I also remember something else. I was in a place… many places…" The boy paused, choosing the words. "There was nothing at first. I mean really nothing. I wasn't even there… And then I got into a world where I met that man – Loiso. He was weird and… we talked. And then I went to many other places trying to find the right door…" Obi-Wan looked at Qui-Gon, uncertainty clouding his eyes.
"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said gently, laying his hand on the boy's shoulder. "You saw a very interesting dream. But it was just a dream. It wasn't real."
The hurt that briefly surfaced in Obi-Wan's expressive eyes told the Master that he wasn't gentle enough.
"It was not a dream," Obi-Wan argued.
"Padawan," Qui-Gon made his voice sound gentle but firm and immediately saw the effect this kind of voice had on the boy – Obi-Wan closed his mouth and stared down at his hands.
He believes something has happened to him while… But that's a total gibberish! How can he believe in a fancy like that? Perhaps a mind-healer… Yes, when we're back at the Temple... Satisfied with his plan Qui-Gon guided the ship to a smooth landing, not paying much attention to the pout that took residence on his apprentice's face.
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