TM: Spirit
Aug. 13th, 2006 09:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
master_obiwan[OOC: Although the imagery I used near the end of this piece, as well as my gender-bending, suggests that this belongs in the same universe as my crack-tastic AU fic where Obi gets the Evil Make-over, it is actually one of those 'missing-scene' deals and is envisioned and written as a part of his GFFA canon. Please treat it as such. Thank you :) ]
The wind rushed through the tall grasses, providing a symphony of sounds in the stillness of the late afternoon. The soft music of nature provided the melody with which the dust danced through the setting sun’s spotlights, as the rays furnished the deep shadows with a dwindling refuge. The scent of Dantooine's flora sweetened the cooling air, adding a mask of life for those that trod this sacred ground.
The ruins had been lost beneath the layers of time, as the planet reclaimed the land that had been borrowed by the Jedi so long ago. Some of the old foundations were still visible, as if Dantoonie was reluctant to give up the last vestiges of its ancient protectors. The gentle swell of the surrounding area held the expanse aloft in silent homage to the noble intentions of the Jedi Order.
The Force was alive here, vibrant in its entirety. The souls of men and women who served in this place gave an energy that bespoke a dedication and commitment of the highest order. It was a feeling that shamed the true Jedi of this day and age, as each visitor was confronted by the past and placed within galactic events only known through ancient texts. The Jedi's true heart was exposed to them, as the secrets of their predecessors saw through all pretensions and placed the mantle of humility upon the shoulders of the Jedi.
Obi-Wan Kenobi stood in the centre of the old Jedi Enclave. His gaze was distant, unfocussed as he observed some unseen point on the horizon. His chest was tight with emotion, as the images he had been given burned a reflection upon his soul.
A 13-year-old boy with a righteous fire in his eyes as he stands defiantly before his Master on behalf of children he barely knows, was superimposed upon a young woman wearing the same expression as she stands before unfeeling Jedi High Council on behalf of the Republic she loves.
And as Obi-Wan watches, that young woman picks a featureless mask up off the ground and hides her face; she dons a cloak that is dark as night and she fades into nothingness.
Obi-Wan shivered in the dying light as the sun sank beneath the horizon. He turned from the past and headed into the future.
Qui-Gon was waiting.
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x-posted to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
theatrical_muse
The wind rushed through the tall grasses, providing a symphony of sounds in the stillness of the late afternoon. The soft music of nature provided the melody with which the dust danced through the setting sun’s spotlights, as the rays furnished the deep shadows with a dwindling refuge. The scent of Dantooine's flora sweetened the cooling air, adding a mask of life for those that trod this sacred ground.
The ruins had been lost beneath the layers of time, as the planet reclaimed the land that had been borrowed by the Jedi so long ago. Some of the old foundations were still visible, as if Dantoonie was reluctant to give up the last vestiges of its ancient protectors. The gentle swell of the surrounding area held the expanse aloft in silent homage to the noble intentions of the Jedi Order.
The Force was alive here, vibrant in its entirety. The souls of men and women who served in this place gave an energy that bespoke a dedication and commitment of the highest order. It was a feeling that shamed the true Jedi of this day and age, as each visitor was confronted by the past and placed within galactic events only known through ancient texts. The Jedi's true heart was exposed to them, as the secrets of their predecessors saw through all pretensions and placed the mantle of humility upon the shoulders of the Jedi.
Obi-Wan Kenobi stood in the centre of the old Jedi Enclave. His gaze was distant, unfocussed as he observed some unseen point on the horizon. His chest was tight with emotion, as the images he had been given burned a reflection upon his soul.
A 13-year-old boy with a righteous fire in his eyes as he stands defiantly before his Master on behalf of children he barely knows, was superimposed upon a young woman wearing the same expression as she stands before unfeeling Jedi High Council on behalf of the Republic she loves.
And as Obi-Wan watches, that young woman picks a featureless mask up off the ground and hides her face; she dons a cloak that is dark as night and she fades into nothingness.
Obi-Wan shivered in the dying light as the sun sank beneath the horizon. He turned from the past and headed into the future.
Qui-Gon was waiting.
----------
x-posted to
theatrical_muse
