A/N: This story has the best reviewers! Thank you so much! It's because of you this story is finally being completed; your kindness in taking time to leave an honest review is so encouraging. I posted a chapter for a That 70's Show fic I've been working at and got 333 hits but only one review … that is so discouraging I don't want to even work on that fic anymore. Yes, writing is a labor of love, but authors wouldn't post their work if they didn't want to know what readers thought. So, please, if you can, take just a minute at the end of this chapter to leave a review. Please? We've got more chapters to go, but I'd love to know what returning and new readers think of this ridiculously old story. :D
TPM Tatooine Rewrite: Through Glass
By: Syntyche
chapter twenty: broken halleluiah
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I've heard there was a secret chordthat David played, and it pleased the Lordbut you don't really care for music, do you?It goes like this: the fourth, the fifththe minor fall, the major liftThe baffled king composing Hallelujah…
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She was short on time, and she knew it. She had one last chance to secure him as hers, and she didn't hesitate as she gripped the vibroshiv firmly in her small hand. She had slipped and called the Jedi intruder "Master Jinn" – he hadn't caught it at the time, and maybe he wouldn't even remember it, but Marjhan wasn't into taking chances and she had no intention of giving up the desirable young Jedi that had been thrust into her life.
The revelation that young Obi-Wan was a Jedi didn't surprise her at all; in fact she probably should have known it from the start. Though his mind had been sanitized before her husband had purchased Obi-Wan, the new slave had shown an inexplicable amount of control throughout his time working on their moisture farm. It would also explain why he hadn't broken yet, and why – even though he couldn't remember being a Jedi – he had chosen the path that fairly screamed Light and continued to deny Marjhan success in her ultimate goal: to have the exquisite young slave submit to her willingly, to bend his knee to her, to answer, lovingly, her every desire.
Now, she approached the room designated solely for Obi-Wan, at the end of a long hall and tucked away in the slave's punishment quarters. Her weak husband considered a few days' solitary confinement reprimand enough for all but the most serious offenses, but Marjhan had adapted her own punishments for disobedient playthings unfortunate enough to get on her bad side, and had a room designed that suited most of her needs quite nicely.
Marjhan clutched a small vial in the other hand, one she knew that Obi-Wan wanted desperately but had yet to give in to her to attain it.
So far he hadn't been very good at making the correct choice when options were offered, but she didn't have time to wait anymore so that game, sadly, had to come to an end. But that didn't mean she couldn't start a new game, and this one would be much more fun than the old one…
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Your faith was strong but you needed proofYou saw her bathing on the roofHer beauty in the moonlight overthrew youShe tied you to a kitchen chairShe broke your throne, she cut your hairAnd from your lips she drew their hallelujah…
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"What are you doing? Seriously. It's kind of embarrassing."
Delian Ani-Suru shifted irritably on the balls of her feet, craning to see around the tall Jedi Master who had inexplicably stopped in the middle of the street and now stood unmoving, eyes closed, sharp features narrowed into a look of intense concentration. Delian tugged on his strong arm insistently, willing him to move out of the way of the steady stream of traffic and the very present risk of losing life or limb to continually passing vehicles and creatures.
"Come on, Qui-Gon," she urged, anxious to keep moving. "We have to get back to track Obi-Wan's transmitter. Also, we're running a serious risk of getting run over just dozing in the midst of traffic, here. Kest!" The Corellian tossed her blonde curls in frustration. Jinn's apprentice, Obi-Wan, had also frustrated her, but in a completely different and not unpleasant way that she was missing and appreciating more and more as she spent further time with Qui-Gon. "Move, damn it!"
Qui-Gon Jinn's tired midnight eyes softened with just a tiny hint of amusement as he regarded the woman pulling him toward the side of street. "You need to learn patience, Delian," he chided softly, and the pilot snorted in reply.
"Yeah, well, you need to learn some basic safety rules," she retorted, "like not ending up as a very large and bulky Jedi hood ornament on a landspeeder. Now," she continued dryly, "what's the holdup?"
"The woman we just left, the lady of the house," Qui-Gon began, eyes closing again as he pulled a picture from his memory of long raven hair, ruby lips, cold eyes, and …
"Marjhan," Delian supplied with a small shiver. "Creepy bitch."
"She had … had … " his words ground to a halt in his suddenly tight throat, unable to break past the image of her hands twisting long strands of interwoven ginger hair, small colored bands binding the thin braid together peeking through her bejeweled fingers; red and yellow, signifying years of training and dedication …
Delian stilled, picking up on the aching solemnity in the Jedi Master's trembling words. "Had what?" she asked sharply. "Qui-Gon?"
Qui-Gon shook his head, long mahogany strands brushing softly against his broad shoulders. He couldn't bring himself to say anything other than, "She has Obi-Wan, I'm sure of it. We have to go back."
"You're sure she was lying about him not being there? Absolutely sure?" Delian pressed anxiously. "We can't keep wasting time – I think we should go get him tracked so we know for sure he's there."
"If you want to, that's fine," Qui-Gon tossed over his shoulder, already hurrying back toward their speeder. "I'm not leaving Obi-Wan there any longer than necessary. I would appreciate your help, but if you feel you're better serving Obi-Wan by delaying here – "
"All right, all right," Delian grumbled, annoyed but intrigued by the Jedi Master's unexpected insistence. "I'm coming. And I'm driving."
Qui-Gon flashed her a tired smile. "Excellent. I need to focus to locate Obi-Wan."
The Corellian shook her head, but Kest she missed Kenobi, so if following the hunch of a wounded Jedi Master was what it took to bring him back, she was in.
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Maybe I've been here beforeI know this room, I've walked this floorI used to live alone before I knew youI've seen your flag on the marble archlove is not a victory marchIt's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah…
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The young slave was curled wearily in the farthest corner from the door when Marjhan entered the room, and he anxiously pressed even further into the cold permacrete walls when he caught sight of the two hulking overseers following their mistress closely. The Lady smiled a little at Obi-Wan's obvious fear of the overseers: they had not been gentle on the slave, and his alarm at seeing them permeated the air, almost physically visible in its potency.
Marjhan's heart beat faster as she regarded Obi-Wan lovingly. Gods, he was so beautiful, so delicious, and when he was afraid or in pain it only made him more so. She almost gave in to the overwhelming temptation to send the overseers away - or not; why not punish them, too, making them look but not touch? - and take the Jedi right then, but the rational part of her mind told her she had work to do, quickly.
She touched his cheek gently, stroking over the purplish-black bruise that stretched across his left eye and cheekbone, reveling in the pained hiss that forced its way past his pale, cracked lips.
Without a word, Marjhan gestured to the overseers and they pushed past her carefully, each grasping one of the slave's muscular arms and dragging his unresisting body from the corner to the middle of the back wall. They pressed the shuddering Jedi's back to the clammy stone and stretched his arms over his head, binding them with rope to a hook set deep in the wall.
Obi-Wan watched in confusion, willing the tremors from their proximity to subside, wincing at the strain of his bindings but he realized that if he were to stand, his arms would be almost level with his waist. Unusual, he realized, but didn't give it much more thought as the overseers moved away - thankfully, Obi-Wan reflected, backing up enough to take the wretched smell of their unwashed bodies to where it didn't seem like it was soaking into his pores and leaving tiny deposits of scummy nastiness behind.
Okay, that's just disgusting, Kenobi, he frowned to himself, before his attention was drawn back to Marjhan by the very effective tactic of her hand striking his cheek in a fierce open-handed slap that snapped his head to the left side and grazed the angry bruising there against the cold stone wall, setting off tiny stings of fire under his skin.
"We need to talk, Obi-Wan," she said firmly, pacing quickly as she spoke, her long dark hair swinging gently behind her. She was twisting his braid in her hands again, a habit he'd noticed she'd adapted since she'd first shorn it off. He couldn't remember why he'd had it, or what the significance of it was, but still his heart keened achingly at the loss of something else that had been his.
"Someone is looking for you, they've tracked your transmitter here. Clearly, this is unacceptable, and we need to remove the chance they might use your transmitter to locate you."
"Wait, who's looking for me – ?" Obi-Wan interjected, feeling, for the first time in what seemed like a very long time, faint stirrings of hope that this torment under Marjhan's hands might not actually continue until death mercifully released him from her coldly tyrannical grip.
Marjhan eyed him grimly, and he could see she was debating whether or not to tell him. "Please," he added, putting all of himself he could muster into the entreaty, his voice deepening to dulcet, smiling warmly at her, eyes grateful and he knew he was treading on dangerous ground but he had to know who was searching for him. The Lady's eyes smiled in lustful appreciation at his efforts and she settled herself lightly beside him, curling over his shoulder.
"Do you see, my love," she purred, laying a head on his shoulder and stroking his bicep gently, "how easy it is to give me what I want? It's all I'm asking." She straightened, coming to a decision in her mind. "I'll tell you since you're playing so nice, but then you have to make a choice, understand?" He nodded wearily, the light in his eyes dimming, and she continued, "A woman named Delian, and your Jedi Master are looking for you."
Despite his joy at hearing Delian's name, Obi-Wan's face crumpled in confusion. "My … Jedi Master?" he asked hesitantly, a vague memory rumbling through his mind of an Order of negotiators … peacekeepers … warriors. "That can't be right … I'm not a Jedi … "
Confused blue-grey eyes settled on Marjhan, begging to know the truth, and she smiled slowly, beautifully, knowing that he was so, so close to coming to her. She held the vial up for the slave to see, thrilling as his hurting gaze latched onto it warily, but with a glimmer of curiosity he hadn't displayed before.
"How about we find out together, Obi-Wan?" she pressed gently. "You know what I want in exchange. Now, here is your choice: tonight, you can accept this," she gestured with the vial, "and come to me, or … " she paused as she felt him stiffen under her hand and his eyes darted to the overseers as his breath quickened. A very thorough working-over by the overseers was usually his other option to choosing Marjhan, and the only path he'd willingly taken so far, but Marjhan shook her head slyly, crimson lips twisting into a mock-pout.
"No," she interrupted herself, "not them. Not this time." Tension still radiated from the slave and he turned his gaze back to meet her cold stare.
She smiled at him. "I let you watch me have Delian and Jinn killed when they come back looking for you."
Marjhan rose to her feet, enjoying the way his tanned skin whitened as blood slowly drained from his face, shocked horror leaving him speechless. Again she almost took him right then and there – gods, he was irresistible, especially now! – but she steeled herself to be patient: she had work to do, and she was fairly certain he would come to her himself before the day had passed.
OOOOOOOOOO
He hurt. Every centimeter ached and groaned at the abuse he'd been putting his slowly-healing body through of late, but Qui-Gon Jinn ignored the complaints that echoed in his mind – a down side, at times, to being so attuned to the Living Force – and focused instead on the Unifying Force, his Padawan's strong suit. He was certain that Obi-Wan's strength in this area would enable a re-forming of their severed training bond, if only Qui-Gon could match his apprentice's skill and find his lost one.
He could feel the wind whipping his hair across his face as Delian sped recklessly back toward the moisture farm they'd left dejectedly earlier that day, but the Jedi Master kept his eyes closed, focusing on a part of the Force that had always eluded his attempts at understanding. It was one of his and Obi-Wan's greatest strengths – as well as frustrations – that each of them was naturally attuned to a different aspect of the Light, and had led to many resolutions and also conflicts between them.
Now however, Qui-Gon carefully and lovingly set aside the Living Force to search for his missing Padawan somewhere in the Unifying Force.
He felt oddly naked without the calming influence of the Living Force, and his nerves, already raw from his being in constant pain for weeks, frayed a little more. He ignored it, though, ignored the Living Force's somber and desperate warning that he needed to clear his mind and refocus, and kept looking, looking … searching … for the bright soul he'd left here several months before to pay their debts.
Qui-Gon's search grew increasingly desperate … he had to find him … had to find the one he'd abandoned, left to be sold off as a slave under the harsh and unforgiving suns of Anakin Skywalker's homeworld … had to find him before something horrible happened … if it hadn't already …
OOOOOOOOOO
Marjhan dropped Obi-Wan's bloody transmitter chip into Miral's hands, ignoring the houseslave's shudder of revulsion at the grotesque gift.
"Clean this up," she ordered, wiping her stained hands on her bodice. A pointed look at her personal servant Jubily sent the pale, silent girl off to prepare a bath and select clean clothing for her blood-spattered mistress, and Marjhan redirected her attention to Miral.
"If Jinn or the woman come back looking for Obi-Wan," Marjhan continued softly, "under no circumstances will I see them, but give them this chip and my regrets." She smiled. "And tell them the slave it belonged to is dead."
Miral nodded obediently, disappearing quickly with the chip, and Marjhan took a deep breath, twisting an empty vial between her fingers and reveling in the moments that would lead up to the final, successful culmination of so much work.
By day's end, Obi-Wan Kenobi would be broken.
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… all I ever learned from loveWas how to shoot at someone who outdrew youIt's not a cry you can hear at nightIt's not somebody who's seen the lightIt's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah…
(halleluiah belongs to Rufus Wainwright, or the other guy whose name I can never remember {so sorry, other guy}.)
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