![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
FIC: Star Wars: Between Space & Time - Part 20/29 - R
More Ewan torture. You guys are probably going to dislike me intensely.
Meditating in the same room with Qui-Gon Jinn was not an experience that Anakin wanted to repeat any time soon.
TITLE: Between Space & Time
RATING: R - because Ewan likes to cuss
PAIRING: nothing yet, will end up (eventually) Ewan/Anakin
Author: Melanie
DISCLAIMER: Heh, I own nothing. Ewan owns himself as does anybody else that is a real person in real life. George Lucas owns everyone that that is property of Star Wars. I make no money off of them. Don’t sue.
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 /
Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17 / Part 18 / Part 19
Between Space & Time – Part 20
Meditating in the same room with Qui-Gon Jinn was not an experience that Anakin wanted to repeat any time soon.
Mace had decided that as the two closest people to Obi-Wan, his former Master and his former Padawan, that together the two of them might have a chance to break through the collar inhibiting his connection to the Force.
Anakin did not like that Qui-Gon was there, that Mace Windu had acknowledged that once upon a time Qui-Gon had been important to Obi-Wan. He didn’t want to remember that Qui-Gon had, at one time, had a training bond with his Obi-Wan, identical to the one that Obi-Wan and he had shared.
He personally liked to think that his bond with Obi-Wan had been deeper, longer lasting than the one that Qui-Gon had shared with him.
Because his had never been severed by force. Yoda had never sat across from him and personally shredded each strand of their bond.
He had done things right, in the correct order. In the way that Qui-Gon had denied Obi-Wan by disappearing.
Obi-Wan had gone from Padawan to Jedi Knight all because he had struck down a Sith. He hadn’t thought he’d been ready for the change, though he would only admit that to Anakin years later when Anakin himself had told him that he didn’t think he was ready for his trials.
But the whole of the Jedi Council had been in attendance insisting that killing a Sith whether it be the Apprentice or the Master was a suitable trial and Obi-Wan had finally relented.
So Yoda had cut his braid and the others had nodded approvingly, though days later they would be shaking their heads in disapproval when Obi-Wan stood before them insisting on taking Anakin as his Padawan.
Anakin on the other hand had done everything in the order that Obi-Wan had set out.
He’d gone from Padawan to his trials to Jedi Knight with his Master by his side the entire time lending him his strength and knowledge. Obi-Wan had cut his braid and smiled so brightly at him, tears in his eyes and he’d known that as much as Obi-Wan wanted to destroy Qui-Gon that he had missed having his own Master at his graduation from Padawan to Knight.
He drew a deep breath.
He couldn’t relax. His eyes kept wanting to snap open so he could glare at the other man, he wanted to run his lightsaber through the other man. He wanted Qui-Gon to bleed and scream in pain for the damage that he’d caused.
But he couldn’t.
Mostly because the subsequent lecture from Obi-Wan would be hours long and they’d already spent more then enough time apart.
Then there was the fact that Mace Windu had made them give up their lightsabers.
Placing them just out of arms reach, they could use the Force to summon them of course but by that time the other would have seen the intent and be armed as well and Mace Windu would have cut off both their hands for being so childish.
He closed allowed his hands to unclench, and relaxed his body. Another breath and he realized that he was breathing in sync with Qui-Gon. He wanted to stop, to change the rhythm and force the other man to yield to him.
It was the silence that forced him to realize that something had happened. He could feel Qui-Gon in the back of his mind, piggy-backing on his link with Obi-Wan.
It felt odd and unnatural and Anakin truly did not care for the feeling.
*Flash*
Obi-Wan, head cocked at an odd angle, no helmet. Eyes closed.
He looked so tired, so pale and Anakin squashed his fear and anger, refused to lend credence to Qui-Gon’s and focused instead his attention on the gauges trying to determine where exactly Obi-Wan was.
*Flash*
His eyes were closed and Anakin frowned. He should have at least heard Qui-Gon’s breathing, as much as he didn’t want to acknowledge it.
He blinked, blinked again and turned his head expecting to see Qui-Gon staring down at him.
Instead he saw two men, Obi-Wan in a crouch, and another man, another Obi-Wan except he was beardless had shorter hair and looked a few years younger than Obi-Wan.
They both stared at him in something akin to shock.
“Obi-Wan,” he knew he spoke but he couldn’t hear the words. Could hear Qui-Gon muttering the same ones in his mind.
In return they both mouthed his name, his Obi-Wan and the other Obi-Wan.
He wondered if he was somewhere inside Obi-Wan’s mind and the man with no beard and the young face was his Obi-Wan with no memory.
Because his clean shaven appearance would certainly explain why Obi-Wan had asked for a razor.
“Can I get anything for you Master?”
“How ‘bout a razor.”
He’d been shocked when confronted with that request.
Because with Obi-Wan not remembering anything that they’d meant to each other he’d thought it wise to not mention that he liked the way that Obi-Wan’s beard felt against his skin, that Obi-Wan himself liked it because it hid the fact that he was so much younger than many of the Masters that were his contemporaries.
He thought the first might have made Obi-Wan even more uncomfortable then he had been at the time, and with no memory he wouldn’t have cared about the latter.
*Flash*
Obi-Wan’s head lolled to the left and back to the right and Anakin wanted to reach out to support him, to hold him, to keep him safe.
But he couldn’t.
If he could find a way that wouldn’t cause Obi-Wan to string him up by his toes he would keep Obi-Wan at the Jedi Temple forever.
Somewhere that he would be safe. Where people wouldn’t keep trying to take him away.
He focused his attention on the gauges again, making a note of the amount of fuel Obi-Wan had, eyeing the stars, looking for a constellation that looked familiar so he could pinpoint where Obi-Wan was floating.
Because that was what he was doing. Just floating.
*Flash*
Anakin’s eyes snapped open at the same exact time that Qui-Gon Jinn’s did.
They spoke at the same time.
“I know where he is.”
***************************************************************
Anakin paced in agitation. It would take a day to get to Obi-Wan and that was unacceptable. He’d wanted to go to the engine room, to make a few ‘modifications’ that would probably not be approved but would cause the ship to move a bit faster and there was only a 30% chance that it would cause the ship to explode so he wasn’t sure why Mace Windu had forbidden him to do so.
Anything that got them to Obi-Wan faster was acceptable in his mind.
Because he vividly remembered the gauges on Obi-Wan’s ship and knew that Obi-Wan barely had a half a day left, he would be out of fuel and once he was out of fuel he would be out of air.
He growled and neither Mace Windu nor Qui-Gon looked over at him. They were leaning over star charts trying to find someone, anyone, that was closer to where Obi-Wan was then them.
Someone who wasn’t a Separatist or that they just couldn’t trust to turn Obi-Wan directly over to them.
It bothered him just a little that Mace was allowing Qui-Gon to assist him while he’d pretty much told Anakin to sit down and twiddle his thumbs while Obi-Wan might even at that moment be taking his last breaths.
Anakin stalked towards them, his fury wafting out behind him.
“This is taking to long,” he snarled.
Mace arched an eyebrow that seemed to say ‘you’re treading a fine line boy,’ Anakin sneered at him.
He was tired of being the good little boy waiting for his Master to be returned to him. He’d played that role enough when he was a youngling and assignments that were deemed too dangerous for him to accompany Obi-Wan had forced him to remain behind at the Temple.
He’d hated it, he’d hated any prolonged, totally unnecessary separation that kept him from his Master and he’d especially hated the ones that brought his Master back to him barely alive and thus keeping him from him any longer.
And it had only gotten worse when they moved from Master, Padawan to Master, Jedi Knight and Obi-Wan had finally consented to be his lover.
Obi-Wan had a long list of acceptable and unacceptable ways that he should react in particular situations and while he was well aware that he was in the unacceptable range of things at this point he didn’t care.
Obi-Wan was missing and hurting and possibly dying and that to Anakin was unacceptable. So Obi-Wan would just have to accept that in some situations Obi-Wan was more important to him then the image that he presented.
He always had been.
***************************************************************
Ewan didn’t like waking up with his chest hurting and his eyes burning. He’d hoped that by the time he woke that Anakin would have rescued him and he’d be lying on some nice soft bed with Anakin curled around him and Ewan could explain that he had split personalities and that Anakin should really call him Ewan from that point on.
He tried to raise his hand to rub at his eyes and while his arm did move to do so it worried him that it seemed so slow.
And the muscles in his arms hurt and he hadn’t even done anything particularly strenuous.
The ship jerked suddenly then, his eyes snapping wide open and he wished the fucking ship had a seat belt when his head slammed into the roof of the cockpit. He hoped he didn’t end up with a concussion from this, with no Hospital Emergency Room or Jedi Healers Ward on his horizon that would be a very bad thing.
Or possibly this was, he tilted his head up and saw a ship, bigger than the one that he’d escaped from so obviously not Padmé and Qui-Gon recapturing him.
Maybe Anakin? Though the butterflies in his stomach didn’t seem to think so.
He was such a fucking idiot.
He should have stayed on the ship with Padmé and Qui-Gon. Let Qui-Gon continue to tell him things he didn’t know and let Padmé continue trying to touch him inappropriately.
Anakin would have found him by now if he’d been on the ship still.
This must be what a tractor beam felt like and he decided that it was a bit choppier and more erratic then what George had put in his movies.
The little suicide box of a ship dropped suddenly into a landing bay causing his head to snap forward and if he hadn’t had whiplash or a concussion before it was a sure bet he had one now.
The cockpit opened without him touching anything and two strapping young men lifted him out, not very gently, while he gulped in deep breaths of pure, wonderful oxygen and tried not to mind that they were going to leave bruises that he was going to have to explain to Anakin at some point.
He wasn’t proving that he could take care of himself at all; in fact he was probably proving Anakin’s point, that he should be locked in a padded room where he could do no harm to himself.
They laid him on the ground and it was cool against his back through the fabric of his thin shirt and pants.
He blinked, clearing his vision of spots and then his lungs tried to stop working which caused the spots to return.
Count Dooku, standing above him, lips drawn into a thin line looking more evil than Ewan remembered him looking in the movies.
“You,” Dooku offered him a hand then smiled when Ewan just stared at it in horror. “You are a thorn in my side,” he crouched instead when Ewan refused to take his hand. Ewan trying to shrink away even with a floor being beneath him and guards to his other side preventing him from moving anywhere.
Dooku gripped his chin with strong fingers and Ewan flinched at the pain even as he wondered why the man was studying him like he was some sort of puzzle that he needed to solve.
“What is it about you that causes such devotion,” Dooku squeezed his fingers just a bit and Ewan made a noise of pain low in his throat. “And would that devotion vanish even if I were to succeed in killing you? Or would it make you a martyr instead, causing them to honor your memory?”
“You were the one trying to kill me?” he managed to ask without moving his jaw which Dooku still gripped.
“And I would have succeeded several times, if those hired to do the job weren’t incompetent and utterly stupid, if you didn’t have more luck than strictly necessary for one person and my Apprentice hadn’t gone against my wishes and saved you.”
“Your Apprentice?” Ewan asked numbly. Because Apprentice?
Dooku was supposed to be the Apprentice, not the Master and if he was the Master how the fuck did Chancellor Palpatine fit into all this.
And who the hell was Count Dooku’s Apprentice?
“You’ve met before, my wayward Apprentice and you. I believe you’ve spent some time closeted with him on his ship before you managed to make your way to me. Which of course made my job all that much easier. Because young Skywalker will come after you and Qui-Gon Jinn will come after you and I’ll have both as my Apprentices and you, my dear Obi-Wan Kenobi, my most painful thorn,” Dooku released his head and Ewan let it drop back onto the ground with a thud. “You will be dead.”
“You can only have one Apprentice,” he said quietly though with no conviction. Everything else was different why wouldn’t this be different as well.
“An old wives tale,” Dooku smiled widely and Ewan shivered. Dooku stood, brushing off his robes and affecting the role of congenial host even though as far as Ewan knew congenial hosts weren’t supposed to be plotting to kill you at the earliest possible convenience.
“I do hope you enjoy your stay on my ship, I’ll try to make it as pleasant as possible for you before I kill you.”
***************************************************************
Meditating in the same room with Qui-Gon Jinn was not an experience that Anakin wanted to repeat any time soon.
TITLE: Between Space & Time
RATING: R - because Ewan likes to cuss
PAIRING: nothing yet, will end up (eventually) Ewan/Anakin
Author: Melanie
DISCLAIMER: Heh, I own nothing. Ewan owns himself as does anybody else that is a real person in real life. George Lucas owns everyone that that is property of Star Wars. I make no money off of them. Don’t sue.
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 /
Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17 / Part 18 / Part 19
Between Space & Time – Part 20
Meditating in the same room with Qui-Gon Jinn was not an experience that Anakin wanted to repeat any time soon.
Mace had decided that as the two closest people to Obi-Wan, his former Master and his former Padawan, that together the two of them might have a chance to break through the collar inhibiting his connection to the Force.
Anakin did not like that Qui-Gon was there, that Mace Windu had acknowledged that once upon a time Qui-Gon had been important to Obi-Wan. He didn’t want to remember that Qui-Gon had, at one time, had a training bond with his Obi-Wan, identical to the one that Obi-Wan and he had shared.
He personally liked to think that his bond with Obi-Wan had been deeper, longer lasting than the one that Qui-Gon had shared with him.
Because his had never been severed by force. Yoda had never sat across from him and personally shredded each strand of their bond.
He had done things right, in the correct order. In the way that Qui-Gon had denied Obi-Wan by disappearing.
Obi-Wan had gone from Padawan to Jedi Knight all because he had struck down a Sith. He hadn’t thought he’d been ready for the change, though he would only admit that to Anakin years later when Anakin himself had told him that he didn’t think he was ready for his trials.
But the whole of the Jedi Council had been in attendance insisting that killing a Sith whether it be the Apprentice or the Master was a suitable trial and Obi-Wan had finally relented.
So Yoda had cut his braid and the others had nodded approvingly, though days later they would be shaking their heads in disapproval when Obi-Wan stood before them insisting on taking Anakin as his Padawan.
Anakin on the other hand had done everything in the order that Obi-Wan had set out.
He’d gone from Padawan to his trials to Jedi Knight with his Master by his side the entire time lending him his strength and knowledge. Obi-Wan had cut his braid and smiled so brightly at him, tears in his eyes and he’d known that as much as Obi-Wan wanted to destroy Qui-Gon that he had missed having his own Master at his graduation from Padawan to Knight.
He drew a deep breath.
He couldn’t relax. His eyes kept wanting to snap open so he could glare at the other man, he wanted to run his lightsaber through the other man. He wanted Qui-Gon to bleed and scream in pain for the damage that he’d caused.
But he couldn’t.
Mostly because the subsequent lecture from Obi-Wan would be hours long and they’d already spent more then enough time apart.
Then there was the fact that Mace Windu had made them give up their lightsabers.
Placing them just out of arms reach, they could use the Force to summon them of course but by that time the other would have seen the intent and be armed as well and Mace Windu would have cut off both their hands for being so childish.
He closed allowed his hands to unclench, and relaxed his body. Another breath and he realized that he was breathing in sync with Qui-Gon. He wanted to stop, to change the rhythm and force the other man to yield to him.
It was the silence that forced him to realize that something had happened. He could feel Qui-Gon in the back of his mind, piggy-backing on his link with Obi-Wan.
It felt odd and unnatural and Anakin truly did not care for the feeling.
*Flash*
Obi-Wan, head cocked at an odd angle, no helmet. Eyes closed.
He looked so tired, so pale and Anakin squashed his fear and anger, refused to lend credence to Qui-Gon’s and focused instead his attention on the gauges trying to determine where exactly Obi-Wan was.
*Flash*
His eyes were closed and Anakin frowned. He should have at least heard Qui-Gon’s breathing, as much as he didn’t want to acknowledge it.
He blinked, blinked again and turned his head expecting to see Qui-Gon staring down at him.
Instead he saw two men, Obi-Wan in a crouch, and another man, another Obi-Wan except he was beardless had shorter hair and looked a few years younger than Obi-Wan.
They both stared at him in something akin to shock.
“Obi-Wan,” he knew he spoke but he couldn’t hear the words. Could hear Qui-Gon muttering the same ones in his mind.
In return they both mouthed his name, his Obi-Wan and the other Obi-Wan.
He wondered if he was somewhere inside Obi-Wan’s mind and the man with no beard and the young face was his Obi-Wan with no memory.
Because his clean shaven appearance would certainly explain why Obi-Wan had asked for a razor.
“Can I get anything for you Master?”
“How ‘bout a razor.”
He’d been shocked when confronted with that request.
Because with Obi-Wan not remembering anything that they’d meant to each other he’d thought it wise to not mention that he liked the way that Obi-Wan’s beard felt against his skin, that Obi-Wan himself liked it because it hid the fact that he was so much younger than many of the Masters that were his contemporaries.
He thought the first might have made Obi-Wan even more uncomfortable then he had been at the time, and with no memory he wouldn’t have cared about the latter.
*Flash*
Obi-Wan’s head lolled to the left and back to the right and Anakin wanted to reach out to support him, to hold him, to keep him safe.
But he couldn’t.
If he could find a way that wouldn’t cause Obi-Wan to string him up by his toes he would keep Obi-Wan at the Jedi Temple forever.
Somewhere that he would be safe. Where people wouldn’t keep trying to take him away.
He focused his attention on the gauges again, making a note of the amount of fuel Obi-Wan had, eyeing the stars, looking for a constellation that looked familiar so he could pinpoint where Obi-Wan was floating.
Because that was what he was doing. Just floating.
*Flash*
Anakin’s eyes snapped open at the same exact time that Qui-Gon Jinn’s did.
They spoke at the same time.
“I know where he is.”
Anakin paced in agitation. It would take a day to get to Obi-Wan and that was unacceptable. He’d wanted to go to the engine room, to make a few ‘modifications’ that would probably not be approved but would cause the ship to move a bit faster and there was only a 30% chance that it would cause the ship to explode so he wasn’t sure why Mace Windu had forbidden him to do so.
Anything that got them to Obi-Wan faster was acceptable in his mind.
Because he vividly remembered the gauges on Obi-Wan’s ship and knew that Obi-Wan barely had a half a day left, he would be out of fuel and once he was out of fuel he would be out of air.
He growled and neither Mace Windu nor Qui-Gon looked over at him. They were leaning over star charts trying to find someone, anyone, that was closer to where Obi-Wan was then them.
Someone who wasn’t a Separatist or that they just couldn’t trust to turn Obi-Wan directly over to them.
It bothered him just a little that Mace was allowing Qui-Gon to assist him while he’d pretty much told Anakin to sit down and twiddle his thumbs while Obi-Wan might even at that moment be taking his last breaths.
Anakin stalked towards them, his fury wafting out behind him.
“This is taking to long,” he snarled.
Mace arched an eyebrow that seemed to say ‘you’re treading a fine line boy,’ Anakin sneered at him.
He was tired of being the good little boy waiting for his Master to be returned to him. He’d played that role enough when he was a youngling and assignments that were deemed too dangerous for him to accompany Obi-Wan had forced him to remain behind at the Temple.
He’d hated it, he’d hated any prolonged, totally unnecessary separation that kept him from his Master and he’d especially hated the ones that brought his Master back to him barely alive and thus keeping him from him any longer.
And it had only gotten worse when they moved from Master, Padawan to Master, Jedi Knight and Obi-Wan had finally consented to be his lover.
Obi-Wan had a long list of acceptable and unacceptable ways that he should react in particular situations and while he was well aware that he was in the unacceptable range of things at this point he didn’t care.
Obi-Wan was missing and hurting and possibly dying and that to Anakin was unacceptable. So Obi-Wan would just have to accept that in some situations Obi-Wan was more important to him then the image that he presented.
He always had been.
Ewan didn’t like waking up with his chest hurting and his eyes burning. He’d hoped that by the time he woke that Anakin would have rescued him and he’d be lying on some nice soft bed with Anakin curled around him and Ewan could explain that he had split personalities and that Anakin should really call him Ewan from that point on.
He tried to raise his hand to rub at his eyes and while his arm did move to do so it worried him that it seemed so slow.
And the muscles in his arms hurt and he hadn’t even done anything particularly strenuous.
The ship jerked suddenly then, his eyes snapping wide open and he wished the fucking ship had a seat belt when his head slammed into the roof of the cockpit. He hoped he didn’t end up with a concussion from this, with no Hospital Emergency Room or Jedi Healers Ward on his horizon that would be a very bad thing.
Or possibly this was, he tilted his head up and saw a ship, bigger than the one that he’d escaped from so obviously not Padmé and Qui-Gon recapturing him.
Maybe Anakin? Though the butterflies in his stomach didn’t seem to think so.
He was such a fucking idiot.
He should have stayed on the ship with Padmé and Qui-Gon. Let Qui-Gon continue to tell him things he didn’t know and let Padmé continue trying to touch him inappropriately.
Anakin would have found him by now if he’d been on the ship still.
This must be what a tractor beam felt like and he decided that it was a bit choppier and more erratic then what George had put in his movies.
The little suicide box of a ship dropped suddenly into a landing bay causing his head to snap forward and if he hadn’t had whiplash or a concussion before it was a sure bet he had one now.
The cockpit opened without him touching anything and two strapping young men lifted him out, not very gently, while he gulped in deep breaths of pure, wonderful oxygen and tried not to mind that they were going to leave bruises that he was going to have to explain to Anakin at some point.
He wasn’t proving that he could take care of himself at all; in fact he was probably proving Anakin’s point, that he should be locked in a padded room where he could do no harm to himself.
They laid him on the ground and it was cool against his back through the fabric of his thin shirt and pants.
He blinked, clearing his vision of spots and then his lungs tried to stop working which caused the spots to return.
Count Dooku, standing above him, lips drawn into a thin line looking more evil than Ewan remembered him looking in the movies.
“You,” Dooku offered him a hand then smiled when Ewan just stared at it in horror. “You are a thorn in my side,” he crouched instead when Ewan refused to take his hand. Ewan trying to shrink away even with a floor being beneath him and guards to his other side preventing him from moving anywhere.
Dooku gripped his chin with strong fingers and Ewan flinched at the pain even as he wondered why the man was studying him like he was some sort of puzzle that he needed to solve.
“What is it about you that causes such devotion,” Dooku squeezed his fingers just a bit and Ewan made a noise of pain low in his throat. “And would that devotion vanish even if I were to succeed in killing you? Or would it make you a martyr instead, causing them to honor your memory?”
“You were the one trying to kill me?” he managed to ask without moving his jaw which Dooku still gripped.
“And I would have succeeded several times, if those hired to do the job weren’t incompetent and utterly stupid, if you didn’t have more luck than strictly necessary for one person and my Apprentice hadn’t gone against my wishes and saved you.”
“Your Apprentice?” Ewan asked numbly. Because Apprentice?
Dooku was supposed to be the Apprentice, not the Master and if he was the Master how the fuck did Chancellor Palpatine fit into all this.
And who the hell was Count Dooku’s Apprentice?
“You’ve met before, my wayward Apprentice and you. I believe you’ve spent some time closeted with him on his ship before you managed to make your way to me. Which of course made my job all that much easier. Because young Skywalker will come after you and Qui-Gon Jinn will come after you and I’ll have both as my Apprentices and you, my dear Obi-Wan Kenobi, my most painful thorn,” Dooku released his head and Ewan let it drop back onto the ground with a thud. “You will be dead.”
“You can only have one Apprentice,” he said quietly though with no conviction. Everything else was different why wouldn’t this be different as well.
“An old wives tale,” Dooku smiled widely and Ewan shivered. Dooku stood, brushing off his robes and affecting the role of congenial host even though as far as Ewan knew congenial hosts weren’t supposed to be plotting to kill you at the earliest possible convenience.
“I do hope you enjoy your stay on my ship, I’ll try to make it as pleasant as possible for you before I kill you.”