Notes: I actually wrote this some time ago, I just never HTMLed and posted it. *sweatdrop* This is basically a write-up of "the scene" at the end of Star Wars: TPM. You know which one I'm talking about. ^_^ It is slash. If that offends you, please don't read it. These characters don't belong to me, they belong to George Lucas. Please don't sue me, I'm a college student and have no money. ^_^

One last thing - the scene where Obi-Wan is trapped behind the little cycling force-fields... I goofed it up when I wrote it. The first time I saw TPM, I thought he had made the thing open with his own force of will - I mean, he had this really concentrating, fierce look on his face! I found out later that they cycled open on their own, but I really liked the way it sounded the way I had written it, so I left it. *shrugs* ^_^ Just thought you should know...


Untitled Star Wars Fic
by Renee-chan

Trapped. I'm trapped. I can feel my heart fluttering in my chest like some kind of franctic, caged bird. All I can do is watch - watch and wait. This is killing me...

The more rational part of my mind - the Jedi-trained part - has to admit that this is indeed quite a spectacle to watch. After all, how many apprentices can claim to have been witness to a battle between a Jedi Master and a Sith Lord? Somehow, the thought brings me no comfort. How can it when I am trapped behind a force-field unable to help?

I continue my restless pacing, frightened beyond imaging by what is happening on the other side of this shield. My Master is looking down his light saber at the very face of Death and I am helpless. I control a sudden urge to kick the force-field, to yell and scream. To cry... I control the urges. None of them will do me any good, and they are all unworthy thoughts for a Jedi.

Peace... Calm... They come so easy to my Master, and yet it is he who rebels - against injustice, against evil, even against the Jedi Council. And here I am, outwardly calm, yet raging inside. How can I settle such a duality of purpose?

A sudden flash and a stifled gasp bring my attention screaming back to the fight. No... No, he's all right. My chest tightens further - it's getting harder to breathe. Why could he not have held the force-fields open just a moment longer? Then we would both be in there fighting Darth Maul - we'd have a better chance...

I feel my senses reaching out - the Force touches me. I see... NO! I pull back from the vision, horrified beyond thought by the possibility of what I'd seen. I can't... I can't let that happen...

I increase the speed of my pacing. Not surprisingly, this does little to help. On the other side of the field the blows fall with increasing velocity, increasing frequency. Each stroke is more deadly than the last. They are tiring now - both of them. I send up a quiet prayer to anything that might be listening: _Please_ don't let my Master tire first... Please...

My prayers are in vain. I can see it even now. With each step that he takes, each lift of his weapon - I can see his exhaustion. He is running on the edges of his reserves. He has nothing left. I _need_ to get in there...

It takes a furious effort on my part, but I force myself to stop pacing. I force myself to settle my mind - or I try to. I can not quiet my fears enough to use the disciplines that I have been taught - and without them, I can not open the force-field. My eyes track back to the fight, hoping beyond hope that I had seen wrong. Maybe... just maybe he's not as tired as he looks...

As my eyes track up over the planes of his face, his own eyes lock onto mine. Those deep serene blue pools hold a sad truth in them - and it takes me too long to figure out what it is. I can feel my eyes widen as I desperately shake my head, silently pleading for this not to happen. Moments later, his hoarse shout shakes the very foundations of my world. The sight of Darth Maul's light saber buried deep into his body is burned onto the surface of my eyes and the insides of my eyelids. I will never forget - never.

I became aware of a sound... Such a strange sound. The sound of a heart breaking into pieces. The sound of a soul driven so far beyond agony that the pain of its sundering can be readily heard by any around it. The sound of a mind shattering upon the harsh reality of Death. Or maybe it's just my screaming... "NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!"

My anguish hands me the key to victory. I turn inside, diving for some unseen power - anything that might help. I find it. And I turn it against the force-field. My stormy grey eyes bore into the sickly yellow ones across the gulf as I batter my will against the force-field. He mocks me. He mocks the pain in my soul as he mocked my Master's strength. No more. _No_ _more_.

The force-field finally yields to me and I burst through it, light saber blazing. He is startled. I can see that. He sees no fear in me - the fear is gone. It has deserted me... for I finally have nothing left to lose. He has taken it all. The fight goes by in a blur. I exceed my best - this I know. But I don't care. I don't bloody _care_.

At one point during the battle I take notice of my surroundings. How can I not? I am hanging on for dear life to a ledge some three feet down the melting pit. My light saber clanks down below me as it falls far beyond my reach. It's over... My soul is buoyed by this fact. I don't have to outlive him - the Force is not demanding it of me. With a small smile, I prepare to let go...

Before I quite know what has happened I am back up on the main floor with a light saber in my hand. It is not mine... My breath chokes in my throat as I realize that it is his. A quick glance tells me what I need to know. He still lives... It was _his_ strength that kept me from falling. _His_ strength that fetched his light saber to me. No...

My eyes raise up to meet those of the Sith Lord and he sees his Death clearly written in them. My smile resurfaces. If this is your will, my Master...

The rest of the battle passes in as much of a blur as the first half. Darth Maul is dead. My Master is dying... and my soul is dying with him. I dredge up what remaining energy I posess and stumble to his side, dropping heavily to my knees next to him. I try not to look at the gaping wound torn through his abdomen, focusing instead on his face.

He looks so peaceful... Like he's asleep. Intellectually, I know he is merely in a light trance - hoping to preserve what energy he can to say goodbye. I gather him up into my arms, resting his head on my lap as I smooth his hair back from his sweat-drenched face. How often had we sat like this in the past? How often had he looked up at me from that position, a mischievous smirk playing at the corners of his lips? How often...?

His eyes open. The sympathy in those gentle blue orbs finally breaks whatever strength is left in me. The tears begin to flow and I can do nothing to stop them. My heart is bleeding. The pain in my chest is unbearable - how can I survive this? I can't... Please don't make me... _Please_... A quiet moan escapes my lips.

He lifts a hand to caress my face. How did he find the strength to do so? The tears fall harder and I crush his weakened body even closer to me. No... Nonononononono... Please... I start to sob. I can't do this. I'm not strong enough...

"Obi-Wan..." His once powerful voice is no more than a broken murmur. I force myself to listen, caught, as always, by the sound of him speaking my name. So gentle, even now. He speaks again, "Obi-Wan... Train the boy."

No... No, Master - don't ask this of me. Ask me anything else and I will do it - don't ask me to outlive you. I can't! He must see something of my protest in my eyes, for he finds the strength to utter one more word... "Please..."

I am lost. Truly lost. The sobs come with more force, torn from my already raw throat. Each one is a knife-thrust into my dying heart. I nod once, then bury my face in the crook of his neck, trying to hide from the never-ending nightmare that my life is fast becoming. His arms wrap around me one more time - one last time. There is no stopping the tears now - there will be no stopping them for the rest of time. My heart will always be crying after this day - it will never be finished.

His arms tighten around me briefly as his dying whisper reaches my ears, "...always... love you..."

How long I sit there cradling his body after the last breath escapes his lungs, I do not know. I simply can not bring myself to leave him. But I have no choice. The physical tears have finally stopped. I wipe my eyes gingerly on my sleeve, hoping that the tears I am still shedding inside will not show. I can almost hear him in my mind, chiding me for not having a handkerchief... I almost choke on another sob. No. No more. No more tears - he wouldn't want them.

I stand slowly, cradling his body in my arms like a child's. I hardly feel the weight. Then, it is nothing compared to the weight of my grief. A grief I will carry with me for the rest of my life - until someone comes along who can free me from it. The boy... Anakin. When you are trained, when you are ready - you will set me free... I can see it.


It has been three days, now. Two days since my Master died. The Jedi Council granted me my full status as a Jedi Knight. Instinctively, I turned to tell him - and he wasn't there. I almost started crying again, but my luck held. The tears stayed inside. Then.

I think Yoda knew - perhaps that is why he allowed me to train Anakin. The boy is my only reason for living now... I feel old. Too old. But I have to live. I have to train the boy. Anakin Skywalker - you will be his legacy. You will leave your mark on the Universe - and I pray you do it quickly, so that I may die in peace.

As I controlled the tears then, so I fail to do it now. I am saying goodbye - and it is far more difficult than I thought. The flames have risen up around him, obscuring his face from view - but I can see it. I will always see it. I can not yet tell if that is a blessing or a curse...

I glance quickly over at Anakin, trying to judge his reaction. He seems so quiet - so unlike the young boy that my Master brought onto the ship with him after the first fight with Darth Maul. We will support each other, I think - it is support I will desperately need in the coming days... or years... I shudder, to think of all those nights I will spend alone.

The tears shake loose from the floodgates I hold them behind, falling unnoticed down my cheeks. I feel a small hand slip into mine - one person here has noticed my tears. Anakin smiles sadly up at me - as if he, too, knows... He squeezes my hand once, patting it lightly with his other hand and I close my eyes, my grief overtaking me once more. My Master... I too, will always love you... Goodbye, Qui-Gon - until we meet again.

...End...


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