Archive: Yes please
Pairing: Q/O
Rating: PG-13. No graphic sex, although it's strongly insinuated. (Sorry!)
Spoilers: Yes!!! A huge one for Phantom Menace!
Summary: Obi-Wan, sadness, regret.
Warnings: None
His hands were beautiful. For so many reasons, I remember his long fingers, clasped around the base of a lightsaber, and his soft gaze directed at me, slowly burning, challenging me to become...to become what he made of me. What I am.
I watched him die, held him in my arms and cradled the grievously wounded body which I had no power to heal. I could not calm my feelings. Despair, anger, fear. What would I become without him? My anguish flooded into my master like the desolation which follows a harsh rain, and he knew then I had loved him, beyond imagining. He could not have avoided my heart's cry. I am sorry for that. I could not give him peace, only sadness. In this one thing I failed him, at the hour he needed me most. I could not bear to apply what I had learned.
In those earliest days, I quickly accomplished my task, becoming the other half of his soul in the pure symbiosis of Jedi and Padawan. Practice, teaching, debate, and always the spark of something deeply desired, kindled fast but smothered under discipline. I could not read my master, but how he must have smiled to know my longing. I remember every detail of the first time he took me in his arms, ran those strong fingers down the curves of my face, listening to me weep with joy at the thought of him loving me. When his decision was made, and the time had arrived, how quick he was to soothe my pain, to kiss away tears. He tossed away my garments, and moved his strong hands with the confidence of honest hunger across my skin, to make me understand I was no longer a boy, not just a pupil of a Jedi, but the beloved of a man.
So many years between those tears of joy, and these bitter tears.
Where one turned, the other followed. We two could not have been more intertwined. Our minds were like opposite halves of one pure emotion. I learned his lessons well. By day under punishing training regimens, he sculpted my body. At night, with his lips fastened to mine, he explored his creation. We moved together, connected, joined in an ecstasy I thought never to know, and will not know again.
So it was that when I felt his spirit wander from him, mine wished to follow, and nothing mattered. I made a promise which I will obey, for the sake of what his eyes spoke as he looked at me that dreadful day. For when he reached out his hand, which trembled from the effort, and comforted me with a touch, I was lost.
My master is dead, and my heart has gone with his into the flames.