Star Wars ficlet
Jun. 5th, 2005 10:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lesbiassparrowStar Wars Vignette. AU. RoTS Spoilers
With thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wrenskywalker for the superfast betaread.
This is my first Star Wars fic so I'd be grateful for comments
If there is no redemption for him, there is also none for her. Despite what they tell her – and they tell her many things, none of which she wastes time in believing - this she knows is true. She thinks they must believe it too: how could she be with someone for so long, so closely and not know the darkness of them, not see the black behind the gold?
She longs for Obi-wan as a fellow traveler in guilt. If she failed as wife, he failed as master, as tutor, as friend. And the galaxy pays for their failure; it’s drowning in the blood they helped spill. She wonders if he lies awake at night thinking about this or if somehow the force compensates, whispers that this is all part of how the universe moves, that eventually all will right itself, that this, these murders, this ugliness, are nothing in the long march of time and fate. If it does, it is one more thing to hate about it.
(She has learned to hate, and she despises herself for that.)
Sometimes she dreams of what it would be like to give herself up. Let go now, stop running, stop the pretence that there is any point to her desperate evasions, but she doesn’t know what it would mean. Maybe there is nothing left of her except the running. She is a shell of whom she once was and she thinks it is curious how her disintegration mirrors his. They are both ghosts of their former selves, rattling their chains when they should be sleeping in their graves.
Her thoughts circle back on themselves every night; she has nothing new worth thinking of. What is he now? Does something remain of what was, an echo of the past which lives in dead silence of the present? Would he hear her if she called?
She wishes she knew because she so desperately wants to make sense of it all. Anakin, she wants to ask, how can I rest if you will not? Bury us both now. Let me sleep.
With thanks to
wrenskywalker for the superfast betaread.This is my first Star Wars fic so I'd be grateful for comments
If there is no redemption for him, there is also none for her. Despite what they tell her – and they tell her many things, none of which she wastes time in believing - this she knows is true. She thinks they must believe it too: how could she be with someone for so long, so closely and not know the darkness of them, not see the black behind the gold?
She longs for Obi-wan as a fellow traveler in guilt. If she failed as wife, he failed as master, as tutor, as friend. And the galaxy pays for their failure; it’s drowning in the blood they helped spill. She wonders if he lies awake at night thinking about this or if somehow the force compensates, whispers that this is all part of how the universe moves, that eventually all will right itself, that this, these murders, this ugliness, are nothing in the long march of time and fate. If it does, it is one more thing to hate about it.
(She has learned to hate, and she despises herself for that.)
Sometimes she dreams of what it would be like to give herself up. Let go now, stop running, stop the pretence that there is any point to her desperate evasions, but she doesn’t know what it would mean. Maybe there is nothing left of her except the running. She is a shell of whom she once was and she thinks it is curious how her disintegration mirrors his. They are both ghosts of their former selves, rattling their chains when they should be sleeping in their graves.
Her thoughts circle back on themselves every night; she has nothing new worth thinking of. What is he now? Does something remain of what was, an echo of the past which lives in dead silence of the present? Would he hear her if she called?
She wishes she knew because she so desperately wants to make sense of it all. Anakin, she wants to ask, how can I rest if you will not? Bury us both now. Let me sleep.
