Stone Appeal: 5
Obi-Wan stared wide-eyed into the blackness, shivering despite the blanket tightly wrapped around him. He thought he heard footsteps outside the dark room and barely stifled a small cry. Icy tears of fright pooled in his eyes and spilled down his cheeks.
That body was still out there. He knew it. He could nearly feel its presence, thick and heavy with death in the air. Even worse he could still see it clearly in his mind's eye. The blank stare from those glazed eyes haunted him mercilessly and he could very nearly feel the tip of a sharp dagger piercing the skin of his throat.
Another sound from outside told him someone was coming closer. He curled up even more tightly under the blanket, not allowing himself to wonder where it had come from. He wondered what they would do to him this time. Would They use the dagger on him again? A whip? Electro-jabber? Maybe just beat him. Images of tools he had glimpsed pranced wildly through his mind, whispering to him their evil, hurtful intentions.
One man had nearly strangled him to death. He still remembered the red haze that soon dimmed to black, licking at the edges of his vision. He had done something – lashed out in some way that he could not remember – and it had made the man angry. He had been stopped just in time.
Obi-Wan had slumped to the ground, raggedly sucking in huge gulps of sweet and precious oxygen. Each time he inhaled his bruised throat threatened to close in on him but he knew it would not and stood the pain.
He shivered from his fear and scooted backwards toward the wall. The door then opened and light suddenly knifed through the solid wall of black. A powerful and broad silhouette filled the entrance of the dark room They kept him in. Obi-Wan whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut.
"Please go away – " His voice shook, revealing the depths of his terror.
Oh please, oh please, oh please…
Footsteps came closer, unusually soft on the stone floor. Maybe They wanted to sneak up on him. Maybe They wanted to scare him. He did not care that he was audibly crying. He dimly wondered where the damp hardness of the ground had gone, replaced by this cushioned, yielding surface.
It was a trick, he decided. They were trying to fool him. He shook his head in quiet defiance, still not daring to open his eyes.
Obi-Wan felt a gentle weight on his shoulder and cringed, clutching the blanket ever tighter. When had they given him a blanket?
"Padawan." The soft voice easily broke through the thick haziness of his confusion. Obi-Wan blinked away his tears and gazed up into the eyes of his Master. The older Jedi had set his room's lights on dim and now sat at the edge of the boy's bed. "You're home," he said, smoothing his fingers through ginger hair.
Obi-Wan shot up in bed. "Master!" Looking around he wondered how he could have mistaken his room for the place those people had kept him in. He suddenly felt mortally embarrassed at his confusion – it had been so turbulent he had woken Qui-Gon. He started to tell the man an apology but halted when his Master reached out and placed a hand over his chest. Obi- Wan realized his heart was thundering rapidly against his ribs.
"Have you been running, Padawan?" the man asked with a smile.
Obi-Wan fell into a bout of nervous giggles edged with just enough desperation that he was soon weeping.
The Padawan felt two strong arms pull him forward and circle around him. He nestled into the warm embrace and let the feeling of safety finally settle in his bones, driving away the last remnants of his fright. He eagerly soaked up the warmth and comfort being offered through physical and mental touch.
Qui-Gon rested his cheek on his Padawan's head and breathed deeply. The boy fit rather snugly, he thought, in the circle of his arms. He held Obi-Wan firmly but gently, wary of the youth's still tender back.
They had returned to the temple two days ago but his apprentice had spent part of one of them in a bacta tank and the rest sleeping at the healer's center. The worst of his wounds had healed and now the boy was merely sore and bruised, but much happier.
When he wasn't dreaming of the atrocities taken up against him, anyway.
The boy shivered in his arms and then stilled. Qui-Gon knew the child was still awake but said nothing, content to merely hold the youth. Obi-Wan shifted slightly.
"Sorry," he muttered quietly.
"Obi-Wan," the Master warned. The boy tensed. Qui-Gon sighed and absently stroked one tear-streaked cheek. "I told you not to apologize unless you've done something wrong," he explained. He pressed a light kiss into the ginger hair and felt the boy relax. "Do you want to talk about it?" he finally asked.
"No."
The answer made Qui-Gon wary. He knew he would have to earn the teen's trust, after all that he had *not* done, but could not help but be somewhat impatient. Since he *had* discovered the treasure that was his Padawan a short three days ago he never ceased to wonder if he had always been so thickheaded. It made his heart ache to see how eager the child was to accept him, and knew that Obi-Wan had been waiting for this time even before the Master took him as his apprentice.
"I'm all right, now," Obi-Wan said but did not move away. "I was just confused." He shifted and looked at Qui-Gon. The Master was both warmed and surprised to see a small and endearingly shy smile on the boy's face. "Thank you for waking me."
Qui-Gon wasn't ready to let go either. "Think nothing of it." He rubbed his hand in small circles on the slender back. "Whenever you need me, for anything – " he started to say seriously.
"I know, Master." Obi-Wan sighed and rested his head against the man's shoulder. "Thank you."
the end
Obi-Wan stared wide-eyed into the blackness, shivering despite the blanket tightly wrapped around him. He thought he heard footsteps outside the dark room and barely stifled a small cry. Icy tears of fright pooled in his eyes and spilled down his cheeks.
That body was still out there. He knew it. He could nearly feel its presence, thick and heavy with death in the air. Even worse he could still see it clearly in his mind's eye. The blank stare from those glazed eyes haunted him mercilessly and he could very nearly feel the tip of a sharp dagger piercing the skin of his throat.
Another sound from outside told him someone was coming closer. He curled up even more tightly under the blanket, not allowing himself to wonder where it had come from. He wondered what they would do to him this time. Would They use the dagger on him again? A whip? Electro-jabber? Maybe just beat him. Images of tools he had glimpsed pranced wildly through his mind, whispering to him their evil, hurtful intentions.
One man had nearly strangled him to death. He still remembered the red haze that soon dimmed to black, licking at the edges of his vision. He had done something – lashed out in some way that he could not remember – and it had made the man angry. He had been stopped just in time.
Obi-Wan had slumped to the ground, raggedly sucking in huge gulps of sweet and precious oxygen. Each time he inhaled his bruised throat threatened to close in on him but he knew it would not and stood the pain.
He shivered from his fear and scooted backwards toward the wall. The door then opened and light suddenly knifed through the solid wall of black. A powerful and broad silhouette filled the entrance of the dark room They kept him in. Obi-Wan whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut.
"Please go away – " His voice shook, revealing the depths of his terror.
Oh please, oh please, oh please…
Footsteps came closer, unusually soft on the stone floor. Maybe They wanted to sneak up on him. Maybe They wanted to scare him. He did not care that he was audibly crying. He dimly wondered where the damp hardness of the ground had gone, replaced by this cushioned, yielding surface.
It was a trick, he decided. They were trying to fool him. He shook his head in quiet defiance, still not daring to open his eyes.
Obi-Wan felt a gentle weight on his shoulder and cringed, clutching the blanket ever tighter. When had they given him a blanket?
"Padawan." The soft voice easily broke through the thick haziness of his confusion. Obi-Wan blinked away his tears and gazed up into the eyes of his Master. The older Jedi had set his room's lights on dim and now sat at the edge of the boy's bed. "You're home," he said, smoothing his fingers through ginger hair.
Obi-Wan shot up in bed. "Master!" Looking around he wondered how he could have mistaken his room for the place those people had kept him in. He suddenly felt mortally embarrassed at his confusion – it had been so turbulent he had woken Qui-Gon. He started to tell the man an apology but halted when his Master reached out and placed a hand over his chest. Obi- Wan realized his heart was thundering rapidly against his ribs.
"Have you been running, Padawan?" the man asked with a smile.
Obi-Wan fell into a bout of nervous giggles edged with just enough desperation that he was soon weeping.
The Padawan felt two strong arms pull him forward and circle around him. He nestled into the warm embrace and let the feeling of safety finally settle in his bones, driving away the last remnants of his fright. He eagerly soaked up the warmth and comfort being offered through physical and mental touch.
Qui-Gon rested his cheek on his Padawan's head and breathed deeply. The boy fit rather snugly, he thought, in the circle of his arms. He held Obi-Wan firmly but gently, wary of the youth's still tender back.
They had returned to the temple two days ago but his apprentice had spent part of one of them in a bacta tank and the rest sleeping at the healer's center. The worst of his wounds had healed and now the boy was merely sore and bruised, but much happier.
When he wasn't dreaming of the atrocities taken up against him, anyway.
The boy shivered in his arms and then stilled. Qui-Gon knew the child was still awake but said nothing, content to merely hold the youth. Obi-Wan shifted slightly.
"Sorry," he muttered quietly.
"Obi-Wan," the Master warned. The boy tensed. Qui-Gon sighed and absently stroked one tear-streaked cheek. "I told you not to apologize unless you've done something wrong," he explained. He pressed a light kiss into the ginger hair and felt the boy relax. "Do you want to talk about it?" he finally asked.
"No."
The answer made Qui-Gon wary. He knew he would have to earn the teen's trust, after all that he had *not* done, but could not help but be somewhat impatient. Since he *had* discovered the treasure that was his Padawan a short three days ago he never ceased to wonder if he had always been so thickheaded. It made his heart ache to see how eager the child was to accept him, and knew that Obi-Wan had been waiting for this time even before the Master took him as his apprentice.
"I'm all right, now," Obi-Wan said but did not move away. "I was just confused." He shifted and looked at Qui-Gon. The Master was both warmed and surprised to see a small and endearingly shy smile on the boy's face. "Thank you for waking me."
Qui-Gon wasn't ready to let go either. "Think nothing of it." He rubbed his hand in small circles on the slender back. "Whenever you need me, for anything – " he started to say seriously.
"I know, Master." Obi-Wan sighed and rested his head against the man's shoulder. "Thank you."
the end