Nothing in the Vastness

Summary not available.

nothing in the vastness

by obaona


A/N: Thanks to Gabri for looking it over and saying it's not weird and very much postable.


"I didn't need anyone to turn me, you know. I did it myself."

Siri leapt for her lightsaber out of her meditation position, a mad scramble that lasted less than a foot before a heavy weight fell forcefully on top of her, knocking the breath out of her. The lightsaber left the small table it had sat on, not by her use of the Force, but by his.

She managed to inhale sharply as he turned her over, kept her still and settled.

He smiled. "You found me," he whispered.

"What are you doing, Obi-Wan?" Siri demanded, perhaps still a little breathless.

He cocked his head, hair curling loosely around his neck, then held her still with the Force; it was as if she was held by air. He brought her lightsaber up to his face, caressed his jaw with the business end. "Visiting," he whispered.

"Oh, is that all? Then why not let me up?" Siri returned.

Obi-Wan laughed. "I'd forgotten your smart mouth," he said bluntly. "I've missed it. I've missed a lot of things."

"I pity you."

"No, you don't. You think it's all my fault I turned to the Dark Side, and that the Council forced you to take the mission of hunting me, poor little lost initiate," he said, and smiled. "You're right. I hope you know that. I figured it would either be you or Garen they would send, since you both – supposedly – know me well."

"Congratulations," Siri said sarcastically, thinking, It's only been fifteen years. She tried to kick Obi-Wan off of her suddenly, hoping to take him by surprise. Trying to use the Force; damn it, he shouldn't have such skill. He had never even been a Padawan, much less a Knight, like her. She had to be able to do this. No one in this area of town would help her, assuming she was willing to scream for help, of course. "You figured it out. So what's with the visit?"

"Because you're beautiful," Obi-Wan said, as if that were all the reason in the world. He looked up at nothing, pleased, like all was right with the world with the two of them in an obscure hotel room in a little dingy place off to the left of nowhere.

"Who trained you?" Siri demanded.

"They're dead," Obi-Wan said bluntly, looking down at her, blue eyes sharp with some silent sarcasm. "Have been for thousands of years, in some cases. Who knew a place called Yavin IV would have a Sith ghost? I guess I was lucky they left me for dead there, hmm?" He took a strand of her hair. "As golden fields, unsoiled," he murmured, twisting the blond strand beneath his fingers.

"You’ve lost it, haven't you?"

"Insanity is relative," Obi-Wan replied calmly. "Even I know that."

Siri just exhaled. Decided not to answer. Obi-Wan was here and there in the conversation, never quite on the mark. There was no plan to this.

"I like poetry," Obi-Wan said suddenly. "It's simple. Pure. I like that."

"Because you aren't pure yourself?" Siri asked, and wondered if there was a pattern to this madness.

"Because I like staining it," Obi-Wan said, with a sorrowful shake of his head.

Another push, but the Force wall Obi-Wan had would not give. "There's still time for you to come back. Be healed."

"Forever will it dominate your destiny," Obi-Wan stated in an absurd parody of Yoda, drawing out the words. "Don't lie to me. I don't like lies. The Jedi lie."

"Obi-Wan . . ."

"You know what's funny about the Temple, though? It would have beautiful; ships everywhere, missiles, Jedi dying, just crazy wonderful. I saw it. It won't happen that way now, it won't be as beautiful, because I won't have been there to teach. I'm . . . not there . . . " he corrected after a moment. Another smile. He stared at her intently, waiting for her reaction, like she had to have one before he could reply.

"What do you mean?" Siri asked, alarmed.

"He's found the child," Obi-Wan said wisely. "I don't know his name. But I know him. He's been found." He paused, then,

"My mouth is full of sand
It tastes so bland
No blood in my soul
No heat in your kiss
I can feel nothing."

"Was that a poem?" Siri asked, still struggling, Obi-Wan still happily ignoring it.

"A bad one," Obi-Wan said with a shrug. "That will be him. He'll never escape his past, as I cannot escape mine." He did not blink, was unfazed in his stare. "The ocean never still, grace of life . . ."

"Obi-Wan –"

"I saw you here," he whispered. "I have no meaning. I am nothing in the vastness. I don’t want to be nothing." He paused, a still moment, an ode to a beginning. "I will be remembered."

The pressure of the Force on her disappeared, and she scrambled back while simultaneously pushing Obi-Wan away. She heard him laugh, and saw his eyes glint in the darkness; everything else was matte, blended into the black of the night. He moved fast, too fast.

Too fast for her.

For a moment, she wasn't sure if the blood she felt was hers or his. He smiled, but he would have smiled regardless.

The pain told the truth, and she exhaled.