Author: Ima Pseudonym
Title: A Quiet Conscience Sleeps in Thunder
Taken from a quote I found that goes "A quiet conscience sleeps in thunder, but rest and guilt live far asunder." I just liked the sound of it.
Author: Ima Pseudonym
Rating: G (Maybe PG)
Notes: This is not based, in any way, off of any of the books written for Star Wars. So if you follow those, consider this AU.
I wrote this a long time ago, when it was storming outside, and my dog refused to let me go to sleep. This idea came to me, and I haven't really done anything with it. But I just re-read it, and I liked it so much, I decided to post it. I always think better of my works at night, though... So in the morning I may regret posting it. Enjoy.
Warning: Un-edited by an outside source.
Disclaimer: Characters and universe belong to Lucas.
Coruscant storms are as terrible as they are rare. They occur, perhaps, three times a year. I've long since stopped fearing them. But looking back, when I was a child, it almost seemed I went out of my way to allow the lightning and thunder to frighten me.
As an initiate, I shared a large, windowless room, towards the center of the temple, with many other younglings. There was always an older Jedi there to ease the fear of any child who happened to hear the thunder. When I grew older, I was given my own room, in a wing of the temple meant for other hopeful padawans, my age. When storms came up, I would wander the long dark hallways, avoiding others, so I wouldn't have to lie if they asked me what I was doing. It grew more difficult after Qui-Gon accepted me as an apprentice.
In order to get to the hallways, during a storm, I would have to go through his room... While he wasn't a light sleeper, he sensed me, and rebuked me for giving into my fears. That happened the first time, and I went back to my room, pulling my sheets up to my chin.
Even while I chastised myself for acting so cowardly, I cringed at every crash of thunder. It had always sounded to me, like some huge unknown terror hurtling closer and closer. The lightning, though... The lightning was what truly terrified me. Although I had never seen or heard of anything like it happening, I was afraid the lightning would break through the window and strike me.
And when it flashed so nearby that I was momentarily blinded, I threw the blankets off and all but ran back to Qui-Gon's room. I stood in the doorway for a long while, just staring at him. Wondering why he wasn't awake now. Behind him, water cascaded thickly down the large window. I was building up my courage to go back to my room. Quit acting childish, and get some sleep. I couldn't, though. Lightning flashed by the window. So close that it actually rattled the enormous pane. I was afraid it would shatter.
I'd meant to calmly whisper "Master Qui-Gon." and hope he heard me, but with the thunder clap, which shook the very floor, it came out more as "MASTQUAN!" It also, unfortunately came out as a startled yelp.
His eyes opened, and he tilted his head up to stare at me for a moment, gripping the hems of my night shirt compulsively.
"Obi-Wan, what is it?" there was only mild curiosity, laced with a much deeper exhaustion.
I couldn't speak. I was thirteen years old. And a padawan, training to be a Jedi knight, for Force sake! But I couldn't will myself to go back to my room. I could feel myself giving into the fear I knew I could best... Lightning flashed again, farther off, but close enough to throw the room into sharp, contorted shadows. And the seconds passed slowly. Agonizingly slowly. Finally, without me having even noticed a change in his expression, Qui-Gon lifted his arm, holding the sheets and covers up. I didn't need a second invitation.
Skittering across the floor, I all but jumped onto the mattress, not letting my feet touch the shadows underlying the bed. Another childish fear, resulting from scary stories exchanged with other children, years ago. Deciding that I'd already put my dignity aside for the evening, I pressed myself close to my master, nose mashed against his chest. He dropped his arm, letting it drape over my back, heavily... But securely.
"We will have to discuss this in the morning, padawan." he said sternly, but not so that I couldn't catch the note of kindness.
"Yes master..." I mumbled, my words lost somewhere around a yawn, and his own warm skin.
From my new arrangement, I could still see the lightning when it flashed, and hear the thunder, but with my master between myself and the window. And his arm draped over me, I was able to drift off, without a concern in the universe.
Months later, when there was another storm, I returned to his room. Rather than simply allow me to share his bed, he sat up, and stretched. And then he'd led me through an hour and a half of meditation. Not exactly over my fear, but drained mentally (which was perhaps the real purpose of the meditations), Qui-Gon had led me back to my own bed, and told me one last time not to fear the lightning. That he would stay in my room that evening, but that the next time I must face it on my own. Unable to argue, even if I had been selfish enough to want to do so, I only nodded, getting out "Yes, m-" before I drifted off.
I never could say for sure whether or not he did stay the entire night, but even to this day, I feel strongly that he did. It really has made all the difference.
Now, years later, after Qui-Gon has passed on into the Force, I find myself peering through my lashes (discreetly) at my own padawan. He's standing in my doorway, indecisively, and it's so much like me that I'm almost smiling. My arm is tensed, ready to raise the covers. And then, Anakin turns and walks back to his own room, as thunder shakes the glass.
Comments are appreciated.