DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc and 20th Century Fox. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.
The title and subtitles are from Loreena McKennitt's song "Dante's Prayer" (from the CD "The Book of Secrets").
Darkness rose up before Qui-Gon - too powerful, too strong to stand against. The last of his mental shields crumbled and vanished...
...And then nothing. The darkness seemed to hesitate for a moment then it pulled back, coiling into the shadows, watchful and waiting.
Shaken, the Jedi opened his eyes slowly...and met Kenobi's pale gaze. For a long moment the boy stared back at him, unblinking, then Kenobi was turning away, running an unsteady hand across his forehead. "It's no use," he said to Shevann, his voice shaking just a little. "He's too strong. "I can't get past his shields."
Qui-Gon kept his face carefully expressionless, not allowing the surprise that was going through him to show. His shields were gone. Completely eradicated. The boy's power, combined with the drugs and the pain he was experiencing had left Qui-Gon completely vulnerable. All of his secrets had been there for the taking. So why had Kenobi pulled back? What had stopped him? He shot another quick glance at Kenobi before Shevann moved across his line of vision. Qui-Gon hastily averted his eyes and stared impassively at the raider. At least, he hoped it was impassively...it was hard to be stoic when one's leg felt like it was on fire.
"You've disappointed me, Obi-Wan," Shevann said quietly, not looking away from Qui-Gon. Behind the raider, Kenobi stirred slightly but did not respond. Shevann sighed then continued. "Still, it doesn't really matter. It just means we'll have to do this the old-fashioned way. It will take longer. That's all." Then he smiled. It was a predator's smile.
A tremor went through Qui-Gon. He could guess what the 'old-fashioned way' was. And he was suddenly convinced that Shevann's smiling was a bad thing.
He was right.
Pain. Too much pain for one man to bear. Too much to still remain sane. And yet he had no choice. There was nothing else he could do except bear it. And wait.
And hope.
Hoping was the most difficult. Despair licked at the edges of Qui-Gon's soul like black fire, and even the Jedi code he had been repeating to himself like a mantra ever since Shevann's men had started, did not help.
Nothing helped.
In the end though, they left him alone. Alone in the dark. Alone with the pain. Qui-Gon sagged in his bonds, striving to clear his mind, to centre himself, and focus on the Force. To not think. To not remember...
Time passed. Or perhaps he had lapsed into unconsciousness. Whichever it was, Qui-Gon became aware of his surroundings again with a start. A light draught of air touched his skin and he licked dry lips. With a groan he straightened, easing some of the weight from his wrists and shoulders and clenching his teeth as the blood began to flow sluggishly through his arms again.
The heavy door to the cell was swinging open. A brief, wild surge of fear shot through Qui-Gon, but he banished it instantly. Whatever was to come, he would face it - without fear, without hatred. He was a Jedi. They could kill him, but they couldn't change that. They could never change that. He was calm again by the time the door opened.
Obi-Wan Kenobi stepped through then turned and quickly shut it behind him. He paused, studying the chained man before him, then he shook his head and frowned. "What is it with you Jedi, anyway?" he asked tersely. "They torture you and...and you don't seem to care. Anyone else would have given in hours ago. Why won't you just tell them what they want to know?" Something almost like anger flickered through his voice and his fists clenched.
The Jedi blinked, wondering at the boy's emotional outburst. But his words were carefully composed when he replied even though his voice was weak. "You should know the answer to that, Obi-Wan. You spent 13 years training with us. Have you forgotten everything?"
Kenobi took several quick steps across the cell, coming face to face with Qui-Gon, fury radiating from his body. "I've forgotten nothing," he said in a deadly whisper. "Not one single moment of the past 17 years. I remember it all."
If Qui-Gon hadn't been chained to the wall he would have taken a step back. Nevertheless, he continued on, heedless of what might happen. After all, there was nothing worse any of them could do to him. He had already lived through the worst. "What do you remember?" he asked simply.
The boy stared into the older man's eyes for a long moment, and Qui-Gon began to wonder if he would answer him. Finally, though, he replied. "No," Kenobi said harshly. "I'm not going to lay out my life story so you can find a way to use it against me. I'm not going to wade through 17 years of bad memories so you can get inside my mind." He paused then glanced away. "Believe me -- you don't want to get inside my mind."
Qui-Gon spoke into the sudden silence. "Then why did you come? Did Shevann send you? Or have you decided against it?" There was nothing but tired curiosity in his voice.
Kenobi frowned and looked back at him. "Decided against what?"
"About telling Shevann what he wants to know. Why I'm here. What my plans are. You...could have told him at any time. We both know it. So why didn't you?"
Kenobi turned disbelieving eyes on him. "Do you think I didn't tell Shevann what was in your mind, because I wanted to see you tortured first?"
"Didn't you?"
Something went through the boy's blue eyes. Was that pain? "No," he said in a strangled tone. "I didn't." Then he pulled a key from his pocket and stretched up, undoing the chains binding Qui-Gon's wrists.
The Jedi would have sagged to the floor at his sudden release if the boy had not caught him. Quickly Kenobi put an arm around Qui-Gon's shoulders and helped him down to a sitting position, then drew away as quickly as he could...as if even that slight touch was distasteful. Not caring, Qui-Gon leaned his aching head back against the cool stones of the cell wall, closing his eyes against the agony his movements had caused. He drew several deep breaths, trying to draw on the Force to control the pain. Now that the bursts of electricity from the binders had ceased and the drugs had worn off slightly, he succeeded, at least in some small measure. But it would take time before he had full control again...
Kenobi stirred and shook himself, as if sensing Qui-Gon's manipulation of the Force, then he reached out one foot and nudged the Jedi in the leg. "Get up," he said harshly. "I'm setting you free."
Qui-Gon opened his eyes and looked up at the boy but made no effort to stand. "Why?"
Kenobi hesitated. "I have my reasons."
"Which are?"
The boy's eyes narrowed. "Just that. My reasons."
"How do I know this isn't a trap?"
"You don't. Look, do you want to get out of here or not?"
Qui-Gon sighed wearily. "Yes," he said simply. "But you're going to have to help me. I'm not up to any heroic escapes just now."
Several emotions flickered over Kenobi's face. Impatience, frustration, fear. For a long moment he did not answer, glancing instead over his shoulder at the closed door behind him. Finally, annoyance written in every line of his body, he bent down and hauled the Jedi unceremoniously to his feet, draping one of Qui-Gon's arms across his shoulders. "All right," he said grimly. "I'll help you off this island. But that's the last help you'll ever get from me. The last help any Jedi gets. Is that clear?"
Qui-Gon turned his head and met cold eyes. "Yes," he nodded. And then he was trying not to wince as Kenobi half-dragged him toward the door. As they crossed the cell floor, the Jedi wondered again if this was a trap, some new plan of Shevann's to make him talk... And then he gave up wondering. It didn't matter. Inside this cell lay only more pain and certain death. Outside...well, who knew what it held? And it was better to die trying to live, rather than chained to a wall waiting for death to come to him...
Wasn't it?