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05 June 2010 @ 01:19 am
Fic: ‘What was never said.’  
Title: What was never said.
Fandom: Star Wars
Rating: (G)
Time Period: Between AotC & RotS: Obi-Wan at the Jedi Temple.
Summary: He realised something very important.

Author's Note: This is quick ‘n’ dirty (for definition see the F. A. Q.).

All characters contained herein are the intellectual property of Lucas; I am not affiliated with nor endorsed by him.


When he first hears the news, he tightens his jaw. There is no emotion; there is peace, he reminds himself. His fingers minutely tighten on the arms of the chair. His legs remain crossed and he appears thoughtful when hearing the news from absent Jedi Masters who miss the smaller details of expression as do those who are in the room with him; inside, he is lost, floundering to listen while the news echoes again and again.

Only one in attendance does not miss those smaller details. His green eyes narrow and he watches the human Jedi Master carefully. It is noticed the Jedi Master is physically present and that his mind is not.

When the meeting concludes, he is gone; his presence is missed when someone turns to address a question to him and he is not there. Long strides are already taking him through the halls of the Temple toward the training room. The Force is on his side – only the Jedi Battlemaster is present. There is peace, he reminds himself and precious moments are spent in pleasantries that do not register; his need to confront the news and the roiling emotions within drive his actions.

His lightsabre suddenly in hand, he draws it back, holding it in a line along his temple with a leg back and an arm outstretched; his palm is up and he beckons to the Battlemaster who doesn’t recognise his former pupil in that stance. The Battlemaster attacks and his lightsabre is met with a clash of sparks and he pivots, bringing his lightsabre around. Again, it is met and the rain of blows that assault the older Jedi is reminiscent of Shii-Cho and not the Soresu he knows this Jedi to have mastered.

There is ... The thought is lost amidst the pain that overwhelms and he pulls the Battlemaster closer with the Force, to slash; he is blocked and he pushes the other Jedi away none-too-gently. She is lost.

Both Jedi circle the other; the older Jedi is cautious – he has seen his former pupil change style often in the course of this duel from Shii-Cho to Niman. Suddenly the younger Jedi Master is in the air and his lightsabre is attacking, short strikes that forces the Battlemaster back with each step and then the younger Jedi is gone but then attacking from the left, the right and then from behind. Each blow forces the Battlemaster to parry, keeping the blade close to himself in order to defend against those smaller strikes that come so rapidly.

As suddenly as the fury appeared, it vanishes, leaving the two Jedi alone in the room. “Master Kenobi?”

The younger Jedi’s blue-gray eyes focus on the older and a faint smile is attempted but it does not reach his eyes. He deactivates his lightsabre. “Master Drallig?”

Master Drallig remains silent. He studies the younger Jedi, quietly. “Nothing, Master Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan slowly exhales and extends his hand. “Thank you, Master Drallig, for the duel.” The older Jedi can only shake the offered hand and nod and watch as the younger Jedi leaves the training room. He clips his lightsabre to his belt and turns his attention to the younglings who had come to the door of the room whilst he was duelling Master Kenobi; his attention is now on them though his concern for the younger Jedi remains.

He still holds his lightsabre in his hand and it reminds him of who, of what, he is. It is only when he is in one of the meditative gardens, with its pools and blossoms that remind him of Naboo, that he finds brief respite from the pain that floods before his inner control relaxes and he simply feels.

His chest burns and his eyes water, tears falling freely. He allows the pain to spread for it cannot be contained only within his heart. His lightsabre is on the ground beside him and he knows he is alone in the garden. In this profusion of scents and sounds, he expects her to step around a bush, to appear from the water with a smile to ask at any moment for his outer robe because she is cold, to lay her head on his shoulder and to hold his hand. He knows he must face this pain and understand it in order for peace to return. But at the moment, he cannot.

At this moment, he is human and not Jedi. He is man with all the weaknesses and strengths that humanity carries. He rubs his fingertips together, remembering the feel of her hair between them; sunshine, he had thought, when he had captured it that first time between his fingers. It had been warm, silken and soft though not as soft as the skin which had often yielded under the fingertips he rubs together.

He draws in a deep breath and, with one hand, wipes his eyes; he has learned Anakin’s habit of not wasting water and tears are a waste. He pinches the bridge of his nose and inhales sharply. The pain does not lessen within and he realises why this is.

He loves her.

He cannot say this aloud nor can he say it as though she is gone though he knows she is. Gone.

His heart pounds heavily, thickly, against his chest and it hurts to breathe. He loves her ... and he never told her.
F. J.: Lanterns: Warmmorethanacandle on June 5th, 2010 12:21 pm (UTC)
I'm sorry.