Hi everyone! This is my first fanfic, and I really, really, really would
like to see some reviews. Please be nice and tell me what you think.
Compliments, criticism, and even flames are welcome!
Thanks, and enjoy!
~Melanie
Time frame: The actual story starts about halfway through Ep II; in the prologue, Obi-Wan is 22.
Rating: PG-13-this is a war, there's going to be some violence.
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars and no copyright infringement is intended. Sammi, Regan, and Ray are mine, though.
CEREMONY OF INNOCENCE Prologue: Turning and Turning
Obi-Wan Kenobi smiled cheerfully as he followed Knight Amila Kritios, the Crèche Master at the Jedi Temple, into a room of very endearing new initiates. At first glance, the twenty-two-year-old Padawan counted about twenty bright-eyed toddlers, all staring at him and the crèche master with wide eyes.
"Well, little ones, this is Obi-Wan. He's come to read you some stories, and he'll be back every other night. Behave yourselves, now." With a comforting smile at Obi-Wan, she stepped out of the room, door hissing shut behind her. Obi-Wan looked down at the huddled children. His last volunteer assignment had been with another group of crèche babies who had graduated into Master Yoda's Younglings. After almost two years of watching twenty other children grow up, the Padawan wasn't apprehensive about taking on a new bunch, but these new little ones looked awfully shy.
If they were new initiates, they'd be between two and four, typically an age at which little ones were shy around strangers. On the other hand, Force-strong Jedi youngsters tended to be very intelligent, and often talkative, once they got over their original wariness of new people. Obi- Wan collapsed gracelessly on one of the piles of cushions strewn about the floor, trying to put them at ease with him, and spoke softly.
"Hi! I'm Obi-Wan! What are your names?" Silence. Then a tiny girl with white-gold hair as fine as featherdown raised a piping, treble voice.
"I'm Thammi," she lisped, then gestured to a matching set of twins beside her, a boy and a girl with identical features and the same brandy-brown hair and eyes. "And thith ith Wegan and Way."
Obi-Wan made some rapid mental translations, fitting names to faces in his head at the same time. The little blonde girl was Sammi, the twin girl Regan, the boy Ray. He didn't get a chance to think for long, because a clamor of shouted names was raised immediately after Sammi had stopped talking. He caught a few snippets of what he assumed were names, but nothing else.
Standing up, he waved his arms wildly to get the giggling babies' attention. Silence ensued, and Obi-Wan was briefly surprised at how well- behaved they were. Of course, he realized, Force-sensitive children, aside from being intelligent, were generally polite, if often mischievious.
"You're going to all have to talk one at a time, little ones, or I can't understand you," the Padawan rebuked with a smile to make sure they knew he wasn't angry. "Can we start over? What's your name again?" He gestured to Sammi.
"I'm Thammi. I'm almotht thwee." The twins sitting beside her spoke up next.
"I'm Regan," the tawny-headed girl proclaimed. "And this is Ray."
"We're twins," announced her brother.
With an example set, the tiny initiates began rattling off names as fast as Obi-Wan could keep up with them.
"Ricca!" "I'm Saldri!" "I'm Karina!" "Telli!" "D'rash!" "Jacek!" "Jesalin!" "Coran!" "Bran!" The roll ended with a wide-eyed, dark-haired little boy who spoke only his name, "Aras," and promptly retreated under the quilt of his little cot.
Obi-Wan found himself quite impressed with the children's ability to shake off their shyness and talk with him. He brought a bag full of his last group's favorite bedtime stories, and he now pulled them out.
"All right, who wants to hear a story?"
The response was affirmative. Loudly so.
"Well, what do you want to hear? I have "The Little Lost Bantha Cub," "Me and My Droid," "A Tale of a Pilot." the Padawan trailed off, looking for any interest.
"Tell us a story about a knight," one of the little boys insisted imperiously.
"But there has to be a princess," Sammi reminded him.
"And an evil bad guy!" "And a scary dungeon!" More voices piped in.
"All right, little ones, you want a story about an knight and princess?" They nodded. Obi-Wan was pressed for a moment. Most of the other initiates to whom he had told stories preferred to hear familiar picture books, not complicated made-up fairy tales. He knew the perfect story, though, knew it by heart. It was one that Qui-Gon had told to him when he was younger, not yet too old for bedtime stories, and it had all the elements the little ones had asked for. Unconsciously, he took on the same stance and storytelling timbre as his master always had, and began the tale.
"Once upon a time," he began, "there lived a young peasant farmer who longed to have an adventure. His name was Jett, and his greatest dream was to become a knight.
"Jett lived with his aunt and uncle, because his father and mother had died many years ago in a great war, but his uncle disapproved of Jett's dreams. "Knights don't do nothing but go and get themselves killed," he always said. No matter how his uncle grumbled, though, Jett never lost hope.
"Working hard on his uncle's farm, Jett grew to be a strong, hardworking man, but he never gave up on his dream. Someday, he promised himself, he would be a knight and ride away on his noble steed and have great and wonderful adventures. He never expected adventure to come in the form it did."
The little ones were completely engrossed in the story by this point, not even fidgeting as small children are wont to do.
"Jett and his uncle went to town to go hire some workers to help them with the harvest. There they met a short, stubby little man named Art, and a tall, blonde man named Theo, who offered to help Jett and his uncle for quite a reasonable price. Art and Theo accompanied Jett back to the farm, where, in the process of helping them get settled in, the young farmer glimpsed part of a hastily scribbled message among Art's bags.
"'Help me, Sir Tirabi,' it read, "You're my only hope.' When Jett asked Art about the letter, the short man said briefly that it was part of a message for a knight named Sir Tirabi who lived in the forest near Jett's farm, and that he had been hoping to get the chance to deliver it. Jett didn't know of anyone named Sir Tirabi in the woods, which were peopled only by dangerous tiger-men, as far as he knew, and thought nothing more of the message until later that evening.
"Theo came banging on Jett's door, saying that Art had run off into the forest to go and deliver his letter. 'What?' Jett exclaimed. "He'll be eaten by tiger-men for sure! We'd better go after him!" And he raced into the forest.
"Jett and Theo did indeed meet up with Art in the forest, when the three were promptly attcked by the deadly tiger-men. All of a sudden, they were saved, as an old knight charged into the fray, scattering the monsters. They returned to his hut and he introduced himself as Sir Tirabi, one of the few knights who had escaped when the dark sorcerer Raymoth began a quest to kill them all. Then Art read aloud his message, a note from a beautiful princess who had been captured by Raymoth."
Obi-Wan tried to make the heroes' search for a ship to take them across the dangerous ocean to rescue the princess sound as perilous and creepy as Qui- Gon always, had, and he soon had the little ones wide-eyed with his description of the swaggering, boastful young captain of the charter boat they found. With the initiates glued to his every word and expression, he told of the trip across the ocean, landing entirely by accident on the shores of the sorcerer's secret island after a violent storm. Obi-Wan described how Sir Tirabi had begun to teach Jett how to be a knight, and how, once the princess had been rescued from the dank, rat-infested dungeon, (Obi-Wan went into great detail on this description, and the children loved it, shivering with horror at the flesh-eating rats he had made up on the spot) Sir Tirabi dueled the sorcerer Raymoth and was killed.
"But," Obi-Wan continued, "this was not the end for our heroes. Instead, they managed to get back on their ship and escape, sailing to the princess's kingdom, where she had an army ready to attack Raymoth and save the world from his evil. Jett joined in the battle, and, when all hope looked lost, managed to destroy the entire fortress by pulling out a stone from the wall. Just when Raymoth thought he was victorious, the whole castle fell on his head." The little ones giggled at this. Prudently, Obi-Wan left out the alternate ending that Qui-Gon had added when the Padawan was twelve or so and had asked for more exciting, gruesome "stuff" in his bedtime story. Qui-Gon's creative description of Raymoth's gory demise had given Obi-Wan nightmares, which Qui-Gon had promptly chased away with gentle words, and some comforting advice about not wanting things to be too gruesome.
The initiates were in awe. For a single moment, as Obi-Wan concluded the story, they remained perfectly quiet in that special instant of silence that every performer lives for, and Obi-Wan couldn't stifle an elated grin. As soon as the older Padawan moved, though, the little ones started to fidget, and Obi-Wan decided that it was time for bed.
"All right, who want to get tucked in?" he asked cheerfully, and was met with a chorus of affirmatives. The children scrambled into their cots, and Obi-Wan went to each one separately and tucked the soft cotton-synth blankets around each little body. Sammi's cot was the last in the row, and as he whispered a soft "sweet dreams, little one," to her, she twined her arms around his neck. Laughing softly, he untangled her, but paused to brush a soft, brotherly kiss across the toddler's delicate hair before dimming the lights, whispering one last 'good night,' and slipping out the door.
Thanks, and enjoy!
~Melanie
Time frame: The actual story starts about halfway through Ep II; in the prologue, Obi-Wan is 22.
Rating: PG-13-this is a war, there's going to be some violence.
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars and no copyright infringement is intended. Sammi, Regan, and Ray are mine, though.
CEREMONY OF INNOCENCE Prologue: Turning and Turning
Obi-Wan Kenobi smiled cheerfully as he followed Knight Amila Kritios, the Crèche Master at the Jedi Temple, into a room of very endearing new initiates. At first glance, the twenty-two-year-old Padawan counted about twenty bright-eyed toddlers, all staring at him and the crèche master with wide eyes.
"Well, little ones, this is Obi-Wan. He's come to read you some stories, and he'll be back every other night. Behave yourselves, now." With a comforting smile at Obi-Wan, she stepped out of the room, door hissing shut behind her. Obi-Wan looked down at the huddled children. His last volunteer assignment had been with another group of crèche babies who had graduated into Master Yoda's Younglings. After almost two years of watching twenty other children grow up, the Padawan wasn't apprehensive about taking on a new bunch, but these new little ones looked awfully shy.
If they were new initiates, they'd be between two and four, typically an age at which little ones were shy around strangers. On the other hand, Force-strong Jedi youngsters tended to be very intelligent, and often talkative, once they got over their original wariness of new people. Obi- Wan collapsed gracelessly on one of the piles of cushions strewn about the floor, trying to put them at ease with him, and spoke softly.
"Hi! I'm Obi-Wan! What are your names?" Silence. Then a tiny girl with white-gold hair as fine as featherdown raised a piping, treble voice.
"I'm Thammi," she lisped, then gestured to a matching set of twins beside her, a boy and a girl with identical features and the same brandy-brown hair and eyes. "And thith ith Wegan and Way."
Obi-Wan made some rapid mental translations, fitting names to faces in his head at the same time. The little blonde girl was Sammi, the twin girl Regan, the boy Ray. He didn't get a chance to think for long, because a clamor of shouted names was raised immediately after Sammi had stopped talking. He caught a few snippets of what he assumed were names, but nothing else.
Standing up, he waved his arms wildly to get the giggling babies' attention. Silence ensued, and Obi-Wan was briefly surprised at how well- behaved they were. Of course, he realized, Force-sensitive children, aside from being intelligent, were generally polite, if often mischievious.
"You're going to all have to talk one at a time, little ones, or I can't understand you," the Padawan rebuked with a smile to make sure they knew he wasn't angry. "Can we start over? What's your name again?" He gestured to Sammi.
"I'm Thammi. I'm almotht thwee." The twins sitting beside her spoke up next.
"I'm Regan," the tawny-headed girl proclaimed. "And this is Ray."
"We're twins," announced her brother.
With an example set, the tiny initiates began rattling off names as fast as Obi-Wan could keep up with them.
"Ricca!" "I'm Saldri!" "I'm Karina!" "Telli!" "D'rash!" "Jacek!" "Jesalin!" "Coran!" "Bran!" The roll ended with a wide-eyed, dark-haired little boy who spoke only his name, "Aras," and promptly retreated under the quilt of his little cot.
Obi-Wan found himself quite impressed with the children's ability to shake off their shyness and talk with him. He brought a bag full of his last group's favorite bedtime stories, and he now pulled them out.
"All right, who wants to hear a story?"
The response was affirmative. Loudly so.
"Well, what do you want to hear? I have "The Little Lost Bantha Cub," "Me and My Droid," "A Tale of a Pilot." the Padawan trailed off, looking for any interest.
"Tell us a story about a knight," one of the little boys insisted imperiously.
"But there has to be a princess," Sammi reminded him.
"And an evil bad guy!" "And a scary dungeon!" More voices piped in.
"All right, little ones, you want a story about an knight and princess?" They nodded. Obi-Wan was pressed for a moment. Most of the other initiates to whom he had told stories preferred to hear familiar picture books, not complicated made-up fairy tales. He knew the perfect story, though, knew it by heart. It was one that Qui-Gon had told to him when he was younger, not yet too old for bedtime stories, and it had all the elements the little ones had asked for. Unconsciously, he took on the same stance and storytelling timbre as his master always had, and began the tale.
"Once upon a time," he began, "there lived a young peasant farmer who longed to have an adventure. His name was Jett, and his greatest dream was to become a knight.
"Jett lived with his aunt and uncle, because his father and mother had died many years ago in a great war, but his uncle disapproved of Jett's dreams. "Knights don't do nothing but go and get themselves killed," he always said. No matter how his uncle grumbled, though, Jett never lost hope.
"Working hard on his uncle's farm, Jett grew to be a strong, hardworking man, but he never gave up on his dream. Someday, he promised himself, he would be a knight and ride away on his noble steed and have great and wonderful adventures. He never expected adventure to come in the form it did."
The little ones were completely engrossed in the story by this point, not even fidgeting as small children are wont to do.
"Jett and his uncle went to town to go hire some workers to help them with the harvest. There they met a short, stubby little man named Art, and a tall, blonde man named Theo, who offered to help Jett and his uncle for quite a reasonable price. Art and Theo accompanied Jett back to the farm, where, in the process of helping them get settled in, the young farmer glimpsed part of a hastily scribbled message among Art's bags.
"'Help me, Sir Tirabi,' it read, "You're my only hope.' When Jett asked Art about the letter, the short man said briefly that it was part of a message for a knight named Sir Tirabi who lived in the forest near Jett's farm, and that he had been hoping to get the chance to deliver it. Jett didn't know of anyone named Sir Tirabi in the woods, which were peopled only by dangerous tiger-men, as far as he knew, and thought nothing more of the message until later that evening.
"Theo came banging on Jett's door, saying that Art had run off into the forest to go and deliver his letter. 'What?' Jett exclaimed. "He'll be eaten by tiger-men for sure! We'd better go after him!" And he raced into the forest.
"Jett and Theo did indeed meet up with Art in the forest, when the three were promptly attcked by the deadly tiger-men. All of a sudden, they were saved, as an old knight charged into the fray, scattering the monsters. They returned to his hut and he introduced himself as Sir Tirabi, one of the few knights who had escaped when the dark sorcerer Raymoth began a quest to kill them all. Then Art read aloud his message, a note from a beautiful princess who had been captured by Raymoth."
Obi-Wan tried to make the heroes' search for a ship to take them across the dangerous ocean to rescue the princess sound as perilous and creepy as Qui- Gon always, had, and he soon had the little ones wide-eyed with his description of the swaggering, boastful young captain of the charter boat they found. With the initiates glued to his every word and expression, he told of the trip across the ocean, landing entirely by accident on the shores of the sorcerer's secret island after a violent storm. Obi-Wan described how Sir Tirabi had begun to teach Jett how to be a knight, and how, once the princess had been rescued from the dank, rat-infested dungeon, (Obi-Wan went into great detail on this description, and the children loved it, shivering with horror at the flesh-eating rats he had made up on the spot) Sir Tirabi dueled the sorcerer Raymoth and was killed.
"But," Obi-Wan continued, "this was not the end for our heroes. Instead, they managed to get back on their ship and escape, sailing to the princess's kingdom, where she had an army ready to attack Raymoth and save the world from his evil. Jett joined in the battle, and, when all hope looked lost, managed to destroy the entire fortress by pulling out a stone from the wall. Just when Raymoth thought he was victorious, the whole castle fell on his head." The little ones giggled at this. Prudently, Obi-Wan left out the alternate ending that Qui-Gon had added when the Padawan was twelve or so and had asked for more exciting, gruesome "stuff" in his bedtime story. Qui-Gon's creative description of Raymoth's gory demise had given Obi-Wan nightmares, which Qui-Gon had promptly chased away with gentle words, and some comforting advice about not wanting things to be too gruesome.
The initiates were in awe. For a single moment, as Obi-Wan concluded the story, they remained perfectly quiet in that special instant of silence that every performer lives for, and Obi-Wan couldn't stifle an elated grin. As soon as the older Padawan moved, though, the little ones started to fidget, and Obi-Wan decided that it was time for bed.
"All right, who want to get tucked in?" he asked cheerfully, and was met with a chorus of affirmatives. The children scrambled into their cots, and Obi-Wan went to each one separately and tucked the soft cotton-synth blankets around each little body. Sammi's cot was the last in the row, and as he whispered a soft "sweet dreams, little one," to her, she twined her arms around his neck. Laughing softly, he untangled her, but paused to brush a soft, brotherly kiss across the toddler's delicate hair before dimming the lights, whispering one last 'good night,' and slipping out the door.