Obdurate Heart – V
Glad I'm still capturing interest! This chapter's a bit shoddy, it gets better, I hope
"O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?"
-Edgar Allen Poe, A Dream Within a Dream
Obi Wan gasped as he jolted upright, instantly scanning about the room in a frantic motion where he sat up panting from the night terror that had so suddenly vanished from his eyes. As the darkness of his room slowly began to materialize into familiarity, he released the tension in his shoulders and forced his breathing to become even once more. He wiped a hand over his face and found traces of sweat, bowing his head a little in shame. Was he still just a child frightened by his foolish nightmares? He knew that he shouldn't be, no matter how vivid the fantasy might have seemed. Even if he could still hear the haunting voices in his ears.
Looking towards the window, he could see that the light had yet to emerge, suggesting that it was very early morning he had been so rudely pulled from. It took him a moment to put things in their place. He was still on Naboo, with Qui Gon and Anakin, in charge of overseeing protocol for the detained Sith apprentice taken captive in battle. That was right, wasn't it? His dream had been different… It had started with the battle, of course. How could it not? He did not know why thoughts pertaining to that last encounter agitated him so very much. Again he was trapped watching Qui Gon face off with the deadly Darth Maul, tensing and whimpering like an eager pup with each perilous stroke of their sabers. That need to get to his master was overpowering. To fight by his side, to defend him from that cruel predator. He could not watch his master die, not while he could do something about. Obi Wan sighed gruffly and tossed his covers away, fumbling out through the dark haze to find his robe before slipping it on. Sleep seemed unattainable now. He may as well check in with the guards.
Obi Wan crept out from his quarters into the cool, tempered air, which set to work immediately lifting the perspiration off of his skin with a soft caress. He was grateful for the weather. He'd had his fair share of deserts and wastelands. In the crisp air of early morning, where the lights were still lit, though fading, and the chirp of the insects was beginning to weaken into a distant melody, Obi Wan desperately sought peace. There had to be some outward refuge from the echoes of agony in his mind. The images continued to flash in his head, refusing to be pressed back while his mind was still unstable from sleep. The battle. It was the same as it had been in actuality, up unto a point. Up unto the crux, that was, the turning point. As Obi Wan stood witness to the great clash, sanctioned by the energy barrier that separated him from his master's side, it was terror that gripped his heart this time as opposed to apprehension.
Block after block, thrust after thrust, spiraling into oblivion they were, and at last, in that moment when Obi Wan might have come to a haphazard rescue, when he might have been fast enough to fly into the head of things, Maul struck a fatal blow, spearing Qui Gon through the chest in a sickening crack. Obi Wan could hear himself screaming, his heart ripping promptly in two as the man who had taken him in—had been to him both a father and a brother—fell stricken from a mortal wound. His vision blared in crimson and he was in the fight without knowing how. The snapshots of the fight were unclear in Obi Wan's head from that point. Only battle cries, the occasional glimpse of saber glow, the explosion of blade hitting blade. When it came to the end of things, he felt a sick satisfaction in pure, carnal vengeance. He saw himself viciously parting Maul asunder with his sword, and the vile creature broke apart in shock, falling to his ultimate demise down the shaft of the pit.
Qui Gon was in his arms…
Obi Wan blinked a couple of times to erase the traces of tears he must have somehow shed while in slumber. The deep, fathomless sadness engulfed him, even now. He had not fully comprehended just how badly Qui Gon's death would have damaged him, but that surely couldn't have been the only aim of such a dream. Qui Gon had been cremated, as was the traditional means of parting. Obi Wan felt empty. And what's more, to the young Jedi's wonder, Anakin became his apprentice. Presently, Obi Wan had to chuckle. That simply would not have done. A master? At his age? Training Anakin? Anakin would have hated him…He knew that the boy held him in no positive light as it was. Qui Gon was his hero, not Obi Wan.
He shuddered once more as he approached the heavily guarded sanctum of his quarry, reminding himself that this was only a dream, and none of those things he saw were real. After all, something truly must be wrong with a man who seeks a safe haven from his fantasies in reality. Smirking slightly at the thought, Obi Wan looked up to find himself at the front entrance. To his astonishment, however, he found no watchman posted outside… He balked in horror and froze for a moment, whipping around repeatedly to look for the guards that should surely be there. Deeply disturbed, Obi Wan went quickly into the room and scanned about. The nightshift guards were not there, at least not those posted to the fore and inside. Instantly his focus went to the bed, but when his frantic eyes found it…
There was Maul, lax and lifeless as he had been that afternoon. Somehow, he had expected disaster. Guards slaughtered on the floors, the room in utter disrepair—something to that effect. And yet, all was calm. If such was the case, why were the guards not nearby? Obi Wan hopped purposefully into the room, taking one more look around before carefully sorting out the shadows and coming near the bed with a pensive expression. Had they really left him unguarded? Even in the dark, his stark red was prominent and the rustle of his husky breath displaced the air around him. His eyes fixed onto the rhythm of his chest rising and falling, his mind filled with a disturbingly murderous image. In his dream, he had killed Maul. Cut just below that chest, and watched as the pieces fell. Obi Wan rubbed a hand over the top of his head uneasily, eyes traveling to the cloth that currently made Maul a modest creature, along with concealing his wound.
He wondered, briefly. He wondered just how grave that wound looked. He remembered sinking the blade deep, but he had not actually seen the damage. It must have been rather deep, for he had been sure that the infliction was fatal. Steeling his nerves and letting his curiosity win out, Obi Wan leaned over a bit and took down the barest corner of the cloth, peering at whatever mutilation lay beneath. His brow furrowed when he saw a ridge of seared scarring, melted flesh dried and hardened over to create a terribly painful looking mark. Entranced, Obi Wan pulled the cloth back further, eyes widening a bit as the entire scar was revealed. He took only a moment to gawk before quickly covering the wound again, pulling back a little to mull over this. Maul would be raving mad about that scar, undoubtedly. And he knew just who gave it to him.
Obi Wan sighed and continued to study the body, almost as though it were some specimen of a rare, dying organism. Those tattoos, covering his form in its entirety. Was all of this really for the factor of inspiring fear? The majority of these markings were never shown. Well, whatever purpose they might have served once, it most likely was lost to Sith infection all the same. He bent over to study the crooked patterns on the region of the chest, puzzled. The designs were so very intricate. He knew of Maul's species, he had encountered them many times before. The Zabrak. A horn-headed species that often took pride in showcasing various artful tattoos with their bodies as canvas. He had never seen those with Maul's like, however. None so extensive, that was. They were clearly of superb quality as well. The ink was immaculate in all places, and the skin was in no way harmed for it. No texture, even. Experimentally, he prodded a finger into one of the stripes that grazed a right pectoral.
Obi Wan's breath suddenly cut to a halt, and the room, though silent before, became immediately deafening in its soundlessness. He stiffened like a pricked cat and let his mortified eyes rest upon the hand—that was gripping his wrist. He couldn't bring himself to a logical thought. Not that he should move, or pull away. His gaze urged upwards despite an inward protest, orbs of shocked blue meeting the sudden heat of wide-open smoldering vermillion. Maul's eyes were a mix of muddled confusion and anger as they bore demandingly into Obi Wan's, seemingly torn between intent to kill and the desire for answers.
Obi Wan stared mutely, lips parted just slightly in alarm and his own body useless to pull away. What could he possibly say? Or do?
Maul let out a garbled, rough cough, narrowing his eyes hard. "…J-edi…rodent…" came his thick hiss, confused as though identifying this man merely for his own benefit.
Obi Wan could only manage what sounded to him like a squeak.
Maul winced at the sound in revulsion, his expression vague and indiscernible under the darkness and the way of his facial tattoos.
Obi Wan suddenly kicked his sanity into drive, and he snatched Maul by the shoulder, pushing him down hard before jerking his other hand free and placing it over the patient's forehead. "Sleep." He ordered.
A slurred growl made it past Maul's throat as his hand fell limp and his eyes slowly draped closed, having no choice in the matter. Obi Wan jumped back and stepped away, letting out an unnerved sigh. He could hear voices coming from behind him.
Obi Wan whirled around as a few of the guards entered the room, talking to one another in muttered voices and stopping dead when they saw the young apprentice in their path.
"Kenobi?" One of them sputtered, and Obi Wan made a face.
"Where were you?" he snapped incredulously, and the guards all looked to one another.
"What brings you here so early?" the same guard interjected into the situation.
"I'm not speaking for my own sake, I asked you where you were!" Obi Wan said this with more bite than he'd meant to, but his nerves were still a tad shaken.
"I apologize..." Came the answer, seeming very confused.
Obi Wan snorted in exasperation. "Is that all? Who authorized you to leave your post?"
"W-we were told that the subject in question would not be awakening for as much as another day or so." The guard attempted to assuage, looking quickly between Obi Wan and Maul's slack form in surprise. "Why were the night shift guards not stationed?"
"The night shift?" Obi Wan paused for a moment. Were they so unorganized? Did they not know when their shifts began and ended? "Do you have any idea how dangerous that man is?" Obi Wan came closer to them, thrusting an accusing figure back at Maul. "He is not a prisoner for any frivolous crime. He is not captive for any nonviolent transgressions, you were not instructed to safeguard this area under flippant terms, gentlemen, do you understand that?"
"Of course." The guard nodded swiftly.
"Then get back to it." Obi Wan groaned and slapped a hand over his face as he hurried out of the room, now worrying more over this task than ever.