TheMacUnleashed: thank you! I love dramatic captures ;)
LilBrit03: I'M the one who is happy that you found this story! Your comment was so incredibly sweet and it made me smile :) Thank you so much for your kind words!
Jessy85: thank you! I have read a lot of different authors' characterizations of Qui, and for me personally, I like to think of him as serious, but as also knowing when to let some things slide. I was always fascinated about the Obi and Qui relationship, and I love writing it kind of mushy :P I'm glad you like it!
Xaja Silversheen: hahaha yeah I'm notorious for being a softy! :P sorry this update took so long, but I'm in the process of going back to college, so things are hectic!
Dragonsconsort: thank you for reading! And don't worry, I always have a plethora of Obi-angst stored up in me ;)
Angel Wings-008: awww thank you so much! I really really appreciate it! I know I seem like a sadist because I torture poor Obi so much, but I'm really just a sucker for heartwarming musy stuff :D
Loopstagirl: that means a lot to me! One of the things I have been trying to work on as a writer is conveying emotions, so your comment made me so happy :)
Obibettina7: thanks for reading! Here is the next partttt
PART 3!
Obi-Wan awoke in the middle of the night to the sensation of pain spreading throughout his body like wildfire. A small whimper crept up his throat and passed through chapped lips. The pain was intensifying every second, until it was almost unbearable in its degree.
Unintentionally, a yelp broke free of Obi-Wan's abused vocal cords. He forced his bruised hands to his mouth, trying to dampen down the noise. But it was too late; the Dark Shadow had already heard it.
Obi-Wan once again found himself backing up against the wall, and he closed his eyes to gather what strength he had left. He could hear the shotgun noise of his boots hitting the floor, the whisper of his fluttering cloak. It sent a chill down the Jedi's spine, as it always did.
The door slammed open, and a draft of even colder air encircled Obi-Wan, drawing him closer within himself. The figure emitted a growl that was almost feral in its wildness. It drew closer, and Obi-Wan steeled himself mentally.
A less familiar, yet equally menacing whip produced from the long sleeves, and it seemed to grow in size in the figure's hands. "I see that you are awake," It hissed mockingly, venom dripping on its voice. "Will you admit that I have defeated you? I can make the pain go away, you know."
Obi-Wan steadied his breath and lifted his head, meeting the darkness of the figure's hooded face with defiance.
The figure brought the whip down hard onto Obi-Wan's already hurt shoulder, and the Jedi had to bite his lip to force himself to remain silent. "What did I say about defying me?" It yelled, the first hint of frustration evident in its voice.
Obi-Wan raised his head slowly again, more proudly this time, with eyes that blazed like twin sapphires. He had already accepted his eventual death, and would not make it all the sweeter for his captor to indulge in his wishes.
The man once again brought down the whip, and the force of the impact knocked Obi-Wan down to his knees in pain. "I said that I would make you beg for the sweet release of death, and to that promise, I hold," he said maliciously, bringing the whip down in a flash of pain that erupted into light.
It seemed forever until the thrashes stopped, and Obi-Wan was barely aware of when the gleaming whip was put back into the man's flowing cape. He lowered his face so that he could stare at Obi-Wan directly, though there was nothing but darkness within the hood.
"I hope that will teach you a lesson, Jedi," he whispered, his words seeming to suck the very air from the room. He straightened suddenly and stalked out of the room, slamming the heavy steel door behind him, leaving Obi-Wan alone again.
The young man tried to control the uprising agony, but it was too great. He could not overcome this without the help of the Force, without its soothing touch. He longed for it, for its answers and reassurance. He reached out his mind to grasp the Force, and for a moment he could feel it as it if were something physical. But as another bout of pain hit him, it slipped away, suddenly as elusive as the wind.
Obi-Wan gripped his chest with his right hand, and placed his left palm on the cold ground, holding himself up in a semi-upright position. He shivered and let out a rough cough, the noise grating and course to his own ears. He coughed again, and then again, until he found he was unable to stop, and it wracked his weakened frame.
His head stared to spin until Obi-Wan could barely hold himself up. He wiped the blood from the sides of his mouth, and stared at it, barely registering the sight. Through the darkness he could see that it was scarlet, and it stayed on his finger for a moment before falling almost gracefully. He watched the blood hit the ground and splatter, the color bleeding like wet paint on a canvas.
Obi-Wan took hope in this, and he was strangely strengthened. "While there is blood in me," he rasped to himself, half-delusional, "I will endure."
His hands could no longer support his own weight, and he dropped to the ground, his head landing in the small puddle of his own blood. The blood seeped into his hair, matting his locks together even more, and staining them a harsh scarlet.
Obi-Wan weakly rolled over onto his back, for the sole reason that it hurt him more to lie on his stomach. He brought up a trembling arm to rest upon his chest, and he laid it there gently.
Where are you, Master? I don't think I can hold out much longer; I feel so weak. I tried to be strong for you, I tried so hard. I will fight with all I have, but I find myself failing and I can't stop it. Will I always be your imperfect padawan? The fool that managed to get himself captured within five minutes of stepping off a ship?
What happened to you, Master? I know that you are not dead, for I would have felt a pain in my heart greater than any other. But what if you are hurt? I could not protect you, not this time. I am so sorry.
Obi-Wan's head spun more until the bare walls seemed to collide into each other. Where the floor and the wall met was one inseparable line that blurred his vision. He was beyond pain now; both his mind and body were in horrible agony. Obi-Wan could not keep his eyes open any longer, and they closed.
His mental shield was dropping, and through a state of half-consciousness, forgotten memories came rushing back to him in a blaze of reality.
One in particular came to his mind, and in a half-crazed state, Obi-Wan allowed himself to remember. The images were as clear now as they were the day they occurred.
"Look Master, it's snowing!" Obi-Wan's face lit up with youthful excitement as he stepped off of the landing ramp and took his first step onto the planet. It had appeared to be only a thin layer of white, but as Obi-Wan's boot sank in to the middle of his shin, he realized that it was at least a foot of the snow.
Qui-Gon turned back around to look at his 14-year-old apprentice, a look of slight reproach on his face. "Do not let yourself be distracted, my young padawan, a Jedi must be mindful of his surroundings at all time. Now close your eyes and tell me what you see." As he turned away from his apprentice, he allowed the serious look to drop from his face, and a wicked smile to take over.
White-hot pain wracked Obi-Wan's body, making him arch his body in an unnatural angle.
Obi-Wan's cheeks burned at the gentle reprimand and he nodded, lowering his head to begin the familiar exercise. "There is a large forest to our left, 300 meters away. The city lies to our northeast, though only the tops of buildings are observable at this moment. The tallest one has six visible windows, two on its east and four on its west side."
Qui-Gon moved slowly as Obi-Wan continued to describe his surroundings, showing extra caution in making his moves so slight that the perceptive padawan would not notice. He gathered a large amount of snow in his hands and patted it together firmly so that it formed a ball. He waited until Obi-Wan started to launch into a long-winded description of the city's features, and then threw the snowball at the boy's head.
Obi-Wan began to cough again, the force of it causing his shoulders to shake uncontrollably. He closed his eyes again, and tried to concentrate on stilling the images that swam before him.
Obi-Wan's eyes snapped open in surprise at the feeling of wet snow dripping down his forehead, into his eyes. He looked at Qui-Gon in astonishment, but the Jedi Master was looking back at him calmly, with a look of complete innocence on face.
Obi-Wan sputtered ungracefully in shock, his cerulean eyes large and bright. "Master," he started, unsure of exactly what to say.
Qui-Gon tried to hold back a laugh at the expression on Obi-Wan's youthful face. "You really must be more mindful of your surroundings, padawan," he said lightly, his light blue eyes twinkling with mirth.
Cold. Obi-Wan drew closer within the minimal warmth his abused body could provide him. Chills rattled Obi-Wan's body and his teeth chattered together of their own will. He braced himself for the pain the he knew was on its way.
Obi-Wan's indignant expression melted into an impish smile, and he suddenly moved to grab a handful of snow himself. Qui-Gon however, had already anticipated his action, and before the young padawan could even begin to bend over, he found himself blinded by more wet snow to the face.
It was here. He could hold it off no longer.
"A Jedi knows not vengeance," Qui-Gon said wisely, though he could not help the snicker that escaped through his lips. Obi-Wan's spiky hair, once the color of burnished gold and very neat, was now wet and matted to his forehead.
The pain was intense. Obi-Wan couldn't help it; there was nothing he could do to stop it. The moan ripped itself out of his throat, and it was a terrible, primal sound.
The cloaked figure of the Dark Shadow paused and sat outside the young Jedi's cell on a small wooden chair. He smiled as Obi-Wan's screams reached his ears.
Obi-Wan smirked and moved again, though this time he was quicker than his Master. Qui-Gon had moved to throw another snowball at the padawan, but Obi-Wan had predicted the action and was already twisting in midair as the ball of packed snow whistled by his cheek. He threw the snow he held in his hand as he moved in the air, and laughed with satisfaction as it hit his Master in the chest.
Qui-Gon looked surprised that Obi-Wan had managed to get a hit on him, and then laughed boisterously. The sun set gently behind the Jedi as they played in the snow like small children, splashing the pristine white snow in stunning shades of orange and yellow. Qui-Gon's barking laugh was met with the youthful tones of his padawan, and they laughed until they could no longer breathe.
Obi-Wan's screams filled the tiny cell, and the frigid night air. The sound reached the ears of the captives in cells near him, and they winced at the anguish in his voice.
Obi-Wan struggled to quiet himself and his mouth that seemed so unresponsive to his mind. He laid there panting, gasping, and struggling for a breath that did not come easily. Obi-Wan tried to hold on to consciousness, but it eluded him like water through a child's fingertips. Sleep overtook him, almost in an act of mercy.
There was a tiny hole in the wall opposite Obi-Wan, a space imperceptible to all but those with the sharpest eyesight. There was a flicker of light, and then a flash of ice-blue as someone on the other side of the wall looked through the hole. He watched as Obi-Wan shivered and coughed, his breath coming short, then rapid. He glanced at the puddle of blood underneath Obi-Wan, and his tear-soaked eyelashes, fluttering restlessly even in unconsciousness.
The man moved away from the wall that connected his cell to Obi-Wan's, and made his way slowly to the opposite side of his tiny room. He knocked on the hard wall three times, snapped five, and executed his message in a code that he and the other captives had created. "He can help us, but we must help him first. He grows weaker by the day."
He waited for an answer, which came almost immediately, and he decoded the message almost as quickly. "The one who was screaming?"
The man replied with a stomp, yes, he indicated.
"I agree", was the coded answer that was received. "He cannot last much longer."
The man that had started the conversation waited a couple seconds before doing the code again, the message a long series of taps and low whistles. "He will last, he has to. He is a Jedi. He is a Jedi, and I think I know him."