![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
laniew1 Ewan was avoiding the clones. In so much as he could avoid them, because they were still doing that freaky thing where they seemed to know where he was and what he was doing.
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 / Part 20 / Part 21 /
Part 22 / Part 23 / Part 24 / Part 25
Between Space & Time – Part 26
Ewan was avoiding the clones. In so much as he could avoid them, because they were still doing that freaky thing where they seemed to know where he was and what he was doing.
It was really beginning to annoy him.
He suddenly wished for Padmé’s guards, the ones that had blatantly looked the other way while he’d been making his escape.
He was holding out on finding Dooku, doing that meant not getting caught by the clones, that would be so much easier if the clones weren’t actively looking for him.
Besides the fact that if the clones found him, well he was sure there would be a fight (because he wasn’t returning to being a prisoner with meek acceptance, he was fucking tired of being a prisoner) and if there was a fight there was a very high probability (like 100% really) that he would lose and then he would be a prisoner again and he really didn’t want to be a prisoner again.
He was fucking tired of being locked up. He was tired of having to have Anakin or Yoda (or any other random Jedi who happened to be wandering past when he got himself in trouble) rescue him. Just for once he wanted to rescue himself.
Even if that mean dying (which he also really didn’t want to do and if the choice was between dying and letting Anakin rescue him, well he’d put a fucking neon sign over his head and wait for Anakin to show up.)
The clones turned down the hallway he was darting through and he in turn managed to squeeze his ass through a door that Yoda probably wouldn’t have been able to squeeze through. But Ewan had determination on his side.
His back pressed against a wall, lightsaber clutched in his hand, he tried to think calm, soothing thoughts to calm both his breathing and his racing heart.
Meditation was a real bitch when you didn’t have a dim room, a calm Master Yoda leading you and that wacky incense scent that he still hadn’t been able to put a name to yet.
One of the guards peered through the crack in the door, shined a light and then after a brief conversation where it was determined that ‘Master Kenobi wouldn’t have been able to get access’ (suckers!) the guards moved on.
Ewan breathed a sigh of relief and sagged, allowing the wall to support him for a brief moment. Even though if he mentioned it to Obi-Wan he would surely say that it was against some rule or another and that they should only lean against fucking air or something.
He glanced around and wondered if he could just hide in this room until Anakin or Dooku located him.
He smiled and laughed softly. Trying to not think that it was pretty close to hysterical laughter.
Because this was obviously fate, kismet. He didn’t want to kill anyone but it seemed he was meant to go into battle fully armed with both a blaster and a lightsaber, because he was standing in the middle of what could only be the ships armory.
He found a blaster quick enough, found a holster belt that hung low on his hips and he insanely felt kind of like a cowboy for about a minute.
All he needed was a ten gallon hat, a dusty street and someone’s honor to defend.
Anakin’s would do in a pinch he supposed.
***************************************************************
Anakin was hard pressed to force back the urge to laugh, Obi-Wan was all happy and bubbly, like a kid in a candy store and he wondered what had brought on that reaction.
A glance back showed Qui-Gon looking much put-upon; he had been silent since they had left the tiny ship that they had used to land in the landing bay of Count Dooku’s.
Anakin didn’t care about Qui-Gon’s feelings at the moment, right now all his energy was focused on Obi-Wan.
In front of him Mace Windu led the way. Anakin was sure that he had no clue where he was going, he was equally sure that the other Jedi was doing something similar to what Anakin was.
Allowing Obi-Wan’s emotions to lead them toward where he was, because wherever Obi-Wan was located Anakin was almost positive that they would find Count Dooku.
And then they would fight and then Anakin would take Obi-Wan home and this whole mess would finally be over.
***************************************************************
Ewan kept the lightsaber in one hand, the other just touching the blaster. It felt uncomfortable to walk with something strapped to his hip like this. He was almost glad that the Jedi hadn’t used them in the films.
It kept throwing his center of gravity off, though he did like the bit of a swagger that he had to have in order to keep the belt from shifting too much on his hips.
He frowned when he walked into the landing bay. That wasn’t where he’d wanted to go; he’d wanted to go to wherever Count Dooku was hiding himself. He wanted this over and he wanted to go home.
He wanted to not have to die and not have to kill anyone.
Was that to much to ask?
“Master Kenobi,” his back stiffened and he turned slowly, lightsaber still gripped in his hand.
“Count Dooku,” Ewan kept his voice calm, his breathing as even and level as he could considering that he was scared to death and thought that death was just around the corner.
“I see you found the spare lightsabers,” Dooku nodded to his hand and Ewan glanced at the lightsaber he was clutching.
“Well you left them laying about and all, and since Qui-Gon took mine…”
Dooku smiled thinly, waved a hand and the door closed behind him. Sealing them both into the landing bay.
There was a small ship behind Ewan, he hadn’t even noticed it when he’d first entered. There was no way that he’d make it to it before Dooku made it to him. Or stopped him.
He allowed his senses to stretch out and felt Anakin and Mace Windu and Qui-Gon Jinn on the ship.
“They came to rescue you,” Dooku’s face contorted in anger. “They will of course be too late.”
Dooku’s blade swooshed into existence. A pale red blade slashing in the air directly in front of Ewan.
He winced. This was the Sith that had cost Anakin his arm, had injured Obi-Wan and had fought Yoda to a draw.
This was the Sith that Anakin had killed, beheading him while the Chancellor urged him on… except that hadn’t happened here, yet. And it wouldn’t because the Chancellor was not the Sith Lord, Dooku was.
He was getting a headache and now probably wasn’t the greatest time for that.
Ewan held the lightsaber out in front of him, double gripped for better control and the pale green blade hummed before him.
They stood there for long moments, lightsabers at the ready, neither moving. Then Dooku feinted to the left and Ewan met his blade head on and they fought.
***************************************************************
Anakin stopped, his heart pounded in his chest. Fear so great that he thought it might swamp him in its murky depths.
A sound akin to whine echoed through the hall, it took Anakin a moment to realize that it had come from his own throat.
In front of him Mace Windu stood, eyes closed, hand braced against a wall.
Behind him Qui-Gon uttered a silent prayer and hung his head in defeat. Staring at the floor.
“Obi-Wan fights Count Dooku,” he said softly.
Anakin closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then reopened them with grim determination. He squared his shoulders and pushed past Mace Windu to lead the way.
They had come this far, he would not allow it to end this way.
***************************************************************
Ewan stumbled, lightsaber barely coming up in time to stop the downward slash of Dooku’s blade.
He was tired, he ached and with every passing moment Dooku was sapping a bit more of his strength and energy and gaining every bit of ground that Ewan was losing.
He ducked two blows, rolled into a somersault and managed to put a few feet between them for a long ten seconds.
It wasn’t near long enough to regain his equilibrium.
His lightsaber snapped up, seemingly of its own accord, just in time, to stop the next slash of Dooku’s.
He might not want to kill anyone, but it had become quite apparent that Dooku didn’t have the same issue.
Also this fighting without choreography thing was for the birds, he didn’t know Dooku’s style, couldn’t envision where and when the next blow would come from.
And then he needn’t have worried.
The next blow had him on his knees, the one after that had his borrowed lightsaber clattering to the ground a distance from him.
He didn’t even look at it; instead his eyes were intently focused on Dooku’s. Because he knew without a shadow of a doubt that the other was waiting for him to beg, to plead for him to spare his life and he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
He could feel Anakin’s fear and pain, could feel his desperation and panic as they got ever closer.
They would not be in time.
He took a deep breath, released it and sent calm and peace all through out the Force. To Anakin, to Mace Windu and Qui-Gon who were equally panicked.
He knew what he had to do.
“I think it is time to do away with my most troublesome thorn,” Dooku touched his chin lightly, a mocking smile on his face. “I will make it quick for you though, since you have been such a formidable foe.”
Ewan let his hand rest on the blaster, fingers moving restlessly along it as he waited for Dooku to move.
Hands sweeping up in a wide arc, Ewan pulled the blaster in just milli-seconds. The trigger was touchy, it took only the most gentle of motions to activate it and Dooku stopped. Mid swing to look down in horror.
“What have you done?” Lightsaber still above his head and Ewan tossed the blaster aside and skittered back. Just far enough that even if Dooku completed his move it would not touch him.
“I’m not quite ready to die just yet,” Ewan said softly, he let the English accent falter. His voice his own for just one brief second. Dooku stared at him in incomprehension.
Then his lightsaber fell from his hand, and Dooku himself fell to his knees. Crumpling in almost slow motion.
Ewan stared at the unmoving body; it felt unreal, surreal to him. He’d just killed someone and all he could think was it had looked more realistic in the movies.
He wondered if he was in shock and then determined that if he was in shock he wouldn’t be questioning if he was in shock.
His hands were numb and he realized that he was trembling.
He tried to feel remorse for the fact that he had just killed a man. But he’d been justified in it hadn’t he? Dooku had tried to kill or have him killed numerous times, this was just Ewan finally growing a set of balls and defending himself.
In any manner that he could, it probably wasn’t right that a Jedi had used a blaster instead of a lightsaber to down his opponent, but he would take victory in any manner that he could.
The door to the landing bay opened, a grate from the ventilation shaft dropped free. It all seemed unbearably loud and Ewan raised shaking hands to press them over his ears to drown it all out.
He needed a moment to get his thoughts in order, right now they were racing all over the place, refusing to settle anywhere in particular except on the fact that he’d just killed someone.
His hands were stopped in mid raise by Anakin suddenly appearing in front of him, kneeling. Anakin’s hands ran over him anxiously, worriedly, checking for injuries, broken bones, missing limbs. Ewan could feel the touch of someone’s Force signature, though he couldn’t place whose, over his mind and he raised a brick wall high and thick almost without thinking about it.
The whole while he just stared at the body, the one that Qui-Gon now stood over silently, head bowed.
“Master. Obi-Wan,” Anakin’s hand cupped his face forcing him to look at him. To see him. Yoda hovered behind him and Mace Windu stood directly behind Qui-Gon.
“I killed him,” Ewan said softly, Anakin made a sound in his throat and leaned his forehead against Ewan’s. Ewan closed his eyes and let Anakin pull him into a tight embrace, his own arms moved seconds later to clutch just as tightly to Anakin.
“No choice you were given,” Yoda touched Ewan’s back, a whisper of a touch and then it was gone. Though the calm and peace that Ewan had sent into the Force was now being pushed at him from all directions.
He laid his head against Anakin’s shoulder.
He had killed someone. Even if provoked with threats against his own life didn’t that still make him a murderer?
***************************************************************
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 / Part 20 / Part 21 /
Part 22 / Part 23 / Part 24 / Part 25
Between Space & Time – Part 26
Ewan was avoiding the clones. In so much as he could avoid them, because they were still doing that freaky thing where they seemed to know where he was and what he was doing.
It was really beginning to annoy him.
He suddenly wished for Padmé’s guards, the ones that had blatantly looked the other way while he’d been making his escape.
He was holding out on finding Dooku, doing that meant not getting caught by the clones, that would be so much easier if the clones weren’t actively looking for him.
Besides the fact that if the clones found him, well he was sure there would be a fight (because he wasn’t returning to being a prisoner with meek acceptance, he was fucking tired of being a prisoner) and if there was a fight there was a very high probability (like 100% really) that he would lose and then he would be a prisoner again and he really didn’t want to be a prisoner again.
He was fucking tired of being locked up. He was tired of having to have Anakin or Yoda (or any other random Jedi who happened to be wandering past when he got himself in trouble) rescue him. Just for once he wanted to rescue himself.
Even if that mean dying (which he also really didn’t want to do and if the choice was between dying and letting Anakin rescue him, well he’d put a fucking neon sign over his head and wait for Anakin to show up.)
The clones turned down the hallway he was darting through and he in turn managed to squeeze his ass through a door that Yoda probably wouldn’t have been able to squeeze through. But Ewan had determination on his side.
His back pressed against a wall, lightsaber clutched in his hand, he tried to think calm, soothing thoughts to calm both his breathing and his racing heart.
Meditation was a real bitch when you didn’t have a dim room, a calm Master Yoda leading you and that wacky incense scent that he still hadn’t been able to put a name to yet.
One of the guards peered through the crack in the door, shined a light and then after a brief conversation where it was determined that ‘Master Kenobi wouldn’t have been able to get access’ (suckers!) the guards moved on.
Ewan breathed a sigh of relief and sagged, allowing the wall to support him for a brief moment. Even though if he mentioned it to Obi-Wan he would surely say that it was against some rule or another and that they should only lean against fucking air or something.
He glanced around and wondered if he could just hide in this room until Anakin or Dooku located him.
He smiled and laughed softly. Trying to not think that it was pretty close to hysterical laughter.
Because this was obviously fate, kismet. He didn’t want to kill anyone but it seemed he was meant to go into battle fully armed with both a blaster and a lightsaber, because he was standing in the middle of what could only be the ships armory.
He found a blaster quick enough, found a holster belt that hung low on his hips and he insanely felt kind of like a cowboy for about a minute.
All he needed was a ten gallon hat, a dusty street and someone’s honor to defend.
Anakin’s would do in a pinch he supposed.
Anakin was hard pressed to force back the urge to laugh, Obi-Wan was all happy and bubbly, like a kid in a candy store and he wondered what had brought on that reaction.
A glance back showed Qui-Gon looking much put-upon; he had been silent since they had left the tiny ship that they had used to land in the landing bay of Count Dooku’s.
Anakin didn’t care about Qui-Gon’s feelings at the moment, right now all his energy was focused on Obi-Wan.
In front of him Mace Windu led the way. Anakin was sure that he had no clue where he was going, he was equally sure that the other Jedi was doing something similar to what Anakin was.
Allowing Obi-Wan’s emotions to lead them toward where he was, because wherever Obi-Wan was located Anakin was almost positive that they would find Count Dooku.
And then they would fight and then Anakin would take Obi-Wan home and this whole mess would finally be over.
Ewan kept the lightsaber in one hand, the other just touching the blaster. It felt uncomfortable to walk with something strapped to his hip like this. He was almost glad that the Jedi hadn’t used them in the films.
It kept throwing his center of gravity off, though he did like the bit of a swagger that he had to have in order to keep the belt from shifting too much on his hips.
He frowned when he walked into the landing bay. That wasn’t where he’d wanted to go; he’d wanted to go to wherever Count Dooku was hiding himself. He wanted this over and he wanted to go home.
He wanted to not have to die and not have to kill anyone.
Was that to much to ask?
“Master Kenobi,” his back stiffened and he turned slowly, lightsaber still gripped in his hand.
“Count Dooku,” Ewan kept his voice calm, his breathing as even and level as he could considering that he was scared to death and thought that death was just around the corner.
“I see you found the spare lightsabers,” Dooku nodded to his hand and Ewan glanced at the lightsaber he was clutching.
“Well you left them laying about and all, and since Qui-Gon took mine…”
Dooku smiled thinly, waved a hand and the door closed behind him. Sealing them both into the landing bay.
There was a small ship behind Ewan, he hadn’t even noticed it when he’d first entered. There was no way that he’d make it to it before Dooku made it to him. Or stopped him.
He allowed his senses to stretch out and felt Anakin and Mace Windu and Qui-Gon Jinn on the ship.
“They came to rescue you,” Dooku’s face contorted in anger. “They will of course be too late.”
Dooku’s blade swooshed into existence. A pale red blade slashing in the air directly in front of Ewan.
He winced. This was the Sith that had cost Anakin his arm, had injured Obi-Wan and had fought Yoda to a draw.
This was the Sith that Anakin had killed, beheading him while the Chancellor urged him on… except that hadn’t happened here, yet. And it wouldn’t because the Chancellor was not the Sith Lord, Dooku was.
He was getting a headache and now probably wasn’t the greatest time for that.
Ewan held the lightsaber out in front of him, double gripped for better control and the pale green blade hummed before him.
They stood there for long moments, lightsabers at the ready, neither moving. Then Dooku feinted to the left and Ewan met his blade head on and they fought.
Anakin stopped, his heart pounded in his chest. Fear so great that he thought it might swamp him in its murky depths.
A sound akin to whine echoed through the hall, it took Anakin a moment to realize that it had come from his own throat.
In front of him Mace Windu stood, eyes closed, hand braced against a wall.
Behind him Qui-Gon uttered a silent prayer and hung his head in defeat. Staring at the floor.
“Obi-Wan fights Count Dooku,” he said softly.
Anakin closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then reopened them with grim determination. He squared his shoulders and pushed past Mace Windu to lead the way.
They had come this far, he would not allow it to end this way.
Ewan stumbled, lightsaber barely coming up in time to stop the downward slash of Dooku’s blade.
He was tired, he ached and with every passing moment Dooku was sapping a bit more of his strength and energy and gaining every bit of ground that Ewan was losing.
He ducked two blows, rolled into a somersault and managed to put a few feet between them for a long ten seconds.
It wasn’t near long enough to regain his equilibrium.
His lightsaber snapped up, seemingly of its own accord, just in time, to stop the next slash of Dooku’s.
He might not want to kill anyone, but it had become quite apparent that Dooku didn’t have the same issue.
Also this fighting without choreography thing was for the birds, he didn’t know Dooku’s style, couldn’t envision where and when the next blow would come from.
And then he needn’t have worried.
The next blow had him on his knees, the one after that had his borrowed lightsaber clattering to the ground a distance from him.
He didn’t even look at it; instead his eyes were intently focused on Dooku’s. Because he knew without a shadow of a doubt that the other was waiting for him to beg, to plead for him to spare his life and he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
He could feel Anakin’s fear and pain, could feel his desperation and panic as they got ever closer.
They would not be in time.
He took a deep breath, released it and sent calm and peace all through out the Force. To Anakin, to Mace Windu and Qui-Gon who were equally panicked.
He knew what he had to do.
“I think it is time to do away with my most troublesome thorn,” Dooku touched his chin lightly, a mocking smile on his face. “I will make it quick for you though, since you have been such a formidable foe.”
Ewan let his hand rest on the blaster, fingers moving restlessly along it as he waited for Dooku to move.
Hands sweeping up in a wide arc, Ewan pulled the blaster in just milli-seconds. The trigger was touchy, it took only the most gentle of motions to activate it and Dooku stopped. Mid swing to look down in horror.
“What have you done?” Lightsaber still above his head and Ewan tossed the blaster aside and skittered back. Just far enough that even if Dooku completed his move it would not touch him.
“I’m not quite ready to die just yet,” Ewan said softly, he let the English accent falter. His voice his own for just one brief second. Dooku stared at him in incomprehension.
Then his lightsaber fell from his hand, and Dooku himself fell to his knees. Crumpling in almost slow motion.
Ewan stared at the unmoving body; it felt unreal, surreal to him. He’d just killed someone and all he could think was it had looked more realistic in the movies.
He wondered if he was in shock and then determined that if he was in shock he wouldn’t be questioning if he was in shock.
His hands were numb and he realized that he was trembling.
He tried to feel remorse for the fact that he had just killed a man. But he’d been justified in it hadn’t he? Dooku had tried to kill or have him killed numerous times, this was just Ewan finally growing a set of balls and defending himself.
In any manner that he could, it probably wasn’t right that a Jedi had used a blaster instead of a lightsaber to down his opponent, but he would take victory in any manner that he could.
The door to the landing bay opened, a grate from the ventilation shaft dropped free. It all seemed unbearably loud and Ewan raised shaking hands to press them over his ears to drown it all out.
He needed a moment to get his thoughts in order, right now they were racing all over the place, refusing to settle anywhere in particular except on the fact that he’d just killed someone.
His hands were stopped in mid raise by Anakin suddenly appearing in front of him, kneeling. Anakin’s hands ran over him anxiously, worriedly, checking for injuries, broken bones, missing limbs. Ewan could feel the touch of someone’s Force signature, though he couldn’t place whose, over his mind and he raised a brick wall high and thick almost without thinking about it.
The whole while he just stared at the body, the one that Qui-Gon now stood over silently, head bowed.
“Master. Obi-Wan,” Anakin’s hand cupped his face forcing him to look at him. To see him. Yoda hovered behind him and Mace Windu stood directly behind Qui-Gon.
“I killed him,” Ewan said softly, Anakin made a sound in his throat and leaned his forehead against Ewan’s. Ewan closed his eyes and let Anakin pull him into a tight embrace, his own arms moved seconds later to clutch just as tightly to Anakin.
“No choice you were given,” Yoda touched Ewan’s back, a whisper of a touch and then it was gone. Though the calm and peace that Ewan had sent into the Force was now being pushed at him from all directions.
He laid his head against Anakin’s shoulder.
He had killed someone. Even if provoked with threats against his own life didn’t that still make him a murderer?
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-09 06:22 pm (UTC)*hugs poor Ewan*