05 Jul 1999

Disclaimer: George Lucas owns Star Wars. Ranier Maria Rilke owns(ed)
the poem "Death Experienced". I own this story.
Notes: I was writing a really angstful post-TPM story, but then I
remembered Obi-Wan smiling at Ani at the end, and bunny came up and
nibbled, oh so politely, on my shins.
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When, though, you went, there broke upon this scene
a shining segment of realities
in at the crack you disappeared through: green
of real green, real sunshine, real trees.
--Ranier Maria Rilke, "Death Experienced"

I held him close and mourned him, but not for long. We had held each
other before, after all, through long nights and soft gray dawns. I can
count the nights we were apart on one hand, and yes--I knew I would miss
his warmth and his touch, but I would not miss him.

He would always be with me, and I knew from the moment he began to cool
in my arms that this body meant nothing--it was something he had worn,
for a little while, and now he would wear it no longer. I picked up the
bundle of clothes and flesh that had once been Qui-Gon Jinn, and carried it
carefully to the palace. It had served my Master well, and it would be
rewarded with full ritual.

I left the body in the chapel, and went to clean myself. As I was
dressing, Amidala came in. "Obi-Wan, I've just been to the chapel.
Qui-Gon is--"

I turned around, my tunic in my hand, and watched her eyes widen. "Yes,
I know. I put the body there. Is there a problem?"

She stared at me, confused by my calm. "No, no...it's fine. But--"

"There is no death, young Queen. There is the Force." I touched her
shoulder, gently. "My Master will always be with me," I said.

"Aren't you...upset?"

"Of course, but I can always find another sparring partner." I was
laughing at her now, and she knew it.

"You really didn't care about him, did you?" She turned to leave, and I
caught her arm, pulled her close to me, close enough to feel her breath
on my chest.

"Amidala, I loved him more than life. There are no words which can tell
you how much I loved him. He was my Master. You are not a Jedi,
but...any Jedi would understand." I tipped her chin up and gazed into
her eyes until she flushed, yanked her arm away from me and stormed out.

I laughed and kept on laughing until I had to sit down. I was still
laughing when Anakin ran in.

"Pad--I mean, Amidala said that Master Qui-Gon is--"

"Yes, Ani. He's dead."

The boy began to tremble, as though hearing it from me made it real. I
knelt and gathered him into my arms and let him cry, his body as tiny
against me as I had once been against Qui-Gon. I would train Ani, raise
Ani, be Master and partner and friend to Ani as Qui-Gon had been to me.

I realized, as I held the boy, that not only was Qui-Gon one with the
Force, he was one with me. In the years to come, I would tell Ani to be
mindful of the living Force; I would call him "Padawan" and "my young
apprentice"; teach him with all the words my Master used to teach me.

I stroked the boy's hair and thought about how I would cut it when I
became his Master, and about how Qui-Gon used to wrap my braid around
his fingers and tug me along after him when I was particularly
recalcitrant.

Ani pulled away and looked at me. "Pad--I mean, Amidala said you
weren't upset at all."

"Amidala does not understand why I am not grieving for my Master. I
honor him, Anakin, and I love him, and I will need someone else to sleep
with and spar with, but...he has not left me, and I have finished
grieving."

"What do you mean he hasn't left you?"

"He is one with the Force, Ani." I brushed his hair back with one
hand. "My Master will always be with me. Why, then, should I grieve?"

He frowned at me, trying to puzzle it out.

"Don't worry," I said. "Now, you need to get cleaned up. Come on, you
can use my 'fresher. I'll go get us some dinner."

I left him there and wandered out in search of the kitchen. As I passed
by the throne room, I heard Amidala talking to one of her handmaidens.
They were giggling about my chest.

For all Amidala's poise and competance, she *was* a fourteen-year-old
girl. I wondered if I had been that silly at her age, and suspected
that I had, and that Qui-Gon had laughed to himself and let me be
fourteen.

I found the kitchen and put together a large tray. I was halfway back
to the room when I realized I'd put some of Qui-Gon's favorites on it,
and I couldn't help but laugh again, feeling him within me and within
the Force--and laughing with me, as truly as he had in life.

---

The End.