AL: In Sickness and In Health (Jan-07)
Title: In Sickness and In Health
Prompt:
"There are some remedies worse than the disease." --Publilius Syrus
Character: Obi-Wan Kenobi
Fandom: Star Wars
Word Count: 389
Rating: PG-13
Warnings Sick Jedi, Ahoy!
Disclaimer George Lucas owns Star Wars. Lucas is King. If he doesn't like me pilfering his characters, he can have his merchandise back.
Summary: Obi-Wan gets sick and Anakin is going to make sure his Master stays in bed this time...
Author's Notes: I had no idea what I was going to write for this one. I'm pleasantly surprised.
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"Adakid, id's no'neccesarry...I'b fide..." Obi-Wan protested. "We hab a parrig match in fibteen midutes." His head was filled with cotton, and he had issues breathing. But he would be damned if he let a cold slow him down. Anakin was ushering him back to bed, where he was promptly tucked in and a thermometer placed in his mouth. And then the young man was gone, and all Obi-Wan could hear were the muted tones of Anakin's voice as he made a comm-call.
A few minutes later, the youth returned and pulled the thermometer out, looking at it critically. "Yep. You're sick," he announced as Obi-Wan groaned.
"I'b fide!"
A knock at the door forestalled any more conversation.
Anakin disappeared again and even louder noises were heard. Obi-Wan sank into the pillow and closed his eyes. Sleep would be nice, if only Anakin would stop being so loud. A nice, long nap and everything would be just lovely...no! he wouldn't give in. He would get up and they would spar and, and...
"Here you go, Master," Anakin said, suddenly next to his bed, a glass of something being held under the elder Jedi's nose. Obi-Wan's eyes opened reluctantly and he was glad that he couldn't smell anything. The liquid inside the glass looked revolting. Obi-Wan tried to calm his stomach as it threatened to heave.
"Adakid, what id dat?"
"Something my mom used to make for me when I used to get sick as a boy. It'll clear you right up so we can go sparring."
"I'b nod driggig dat."
Anakin rolled his eyes. "Come on, Master. You'll feel better afterwards."
"Ride, becuz I'b gonna drow up if I do."
"No, you won't throw up, I promise."
Obi-Wan snorted as best he could and rolled over, pulling the covers up over his shoulder. "Do tanks. I'b jut gon'dleep id off."
Anakin's shoulders sagged in defeat. "Okay, Master. If you think that's best."
"I do. Clode d'door od yur way oud."
Anakin tucked his Master in a bit before turning and leaving, glass still in hand. He closed the door as requested and he even managed to make it into the hallway and down the corridor before he smirked and pulled out his com-link. "Master Yoda? You were right, it worked...he's not going to be leaving his bed any time soon."
Prompt:
"There are some remedies worse than the disease." --Publilius Syrus
Character: Obi-Wan Kenobi
Fandom: Star Wars
Word Count: 389
Rating: PG-13
Warnings Sick Jedi, Ahoy!
Disclaimer George Lucas owns Star Wars. Lucas is King. If he doesn't like me pilfering his characters, he can have his merchandise back.
Summary: Obi-Wan gets sick and Anakin is going to make sure his Master stays in bed this time...
Author's Notes: I had no idea what I was going to write for this one. I'm pleasantly surprised.
----------
"Adakid, id's no'neccesarry...I'b fide..." Obi-Wan protested. "We hab a parrig match in fibteen midutes." His head was filled with cotton, and he had issues breathing. But he would be damned if he let a cold slow him down. Anakin was ushering him back to bed, where he was promptly tucked in and a thermometer placed in his mouth. And then the young man was gone, and all Obi-Wan could hear were the muted tones of Anakin's voice as he made a comm-call.
A few minutes later, the youth returned and pulled the thermometer out, looking at it critically. "Yep. You're sick," he announced as Obi-Wan groaned.
"I'b fide!"
A knock at the door forestalled any more conversation.
Anakin disappeared again and even louder noises were heard. Obi-Wan sank into the pillow and closed his eyes. Sleep would be nice, if only Anakin would stop being so loud. A nice, long nap and everything would be just lovely...no! he wouldn't give in. He would get up and they would spar and, and...
"Here you go, Master," Anakin said, suddenly next to his bed, a glass of something being held under the elder Jedi's nose. Obi-Wan's eyes opened reluctantly and he was glad that he couldn't smell anything. The liquid inside the glass looked revolting. Obi-Wan tried to calm his stomach as it threatened to heave.
"Adakid, what id dat?"
"Something my mom used to make for me when I used to get sick as a boy. It'll clear you right up so we can go sparring."
"I'b nod driggig dat."
Anakin rolled his eyes. "Come on, Master. You'll feel better afterwards."
"Ride, becuz I'b gonna drow up if I do."
"No, you won't throw up, I promise."
Obi-Wan snorted as best he could and rolled over, pulling the covers up over his shoulder. "Do tanks. I'b jut gon'dleep id off."
Anakin's shoulders sagged in defeat. "Okay, Master. If you think that's best."
"I do. Clode d'door od yur way oud."
Anakin tucked his Master in a bit before turning and leaving, glass still in hand. He closed the door as requested and he even managed to make it into the hallway and down the corridor before he smirked and pulled out his com-link. "Master Yoda? You were right, it worked...he's not going to be leaving his bed any time soon."