Two hearts living in two separate worlds
The wind moved along the beach, drifting the sand and tossing the waves.
The same beach on which he'd first found Obi-Wan, so many months ago, and now Qui-Gon found himself in much the same place emotionally as well, drifting in and out of a reality he understood only too well, now.
Wrapping both arms around himself, he closed his eyes.
He had known the moment he had woken. Her side of the bed was cold, not merely empty, and her clothes had disappeared along with the few belongings she had collected in this place. All that remained was a half-finished hut, a carved stone that he held now in one hand, and the openly aching space he had made for her in his heart. He had not meant to trust so much or hope so much, never again.
Strange, how insignificant were the reminders of what once was or could have been. Obi-Wan's braid wrapped twice around his wrist, still bright. Claire's stone with its promise of married minds, warm from only his skin.
For her, he could hardly mourn. She had returned to the embrace of her family, her daughter and the husband she still truly loved, and perhaps she would not remember the time spent here. Qui-Gon understood all too well the sometimes necessary difficulty of dividing the heart where affections could never be reconciled, but he could still be selfish, and make wishes and excuses for his own sake. Had he the choice...he might not have been able to bear returning her to her own world, and that was a terrible failing indeed. He had always sworn to place the greater good above his own temporary happiness.
Exhaling into the wind, he wondered how many more names he might need to carve onto the memorial wall before this place allowed him an escape.
[Claire Fraser is officially gone from the island. This would not be a good time for a first meeting, I'm afraid.]
The same beach on which he'd first found Obi-Wan, so many months ago, and now Qui-Gon found himself in much the same place emotionally as well, drifting in and out of a reality he understood only too well, now.
Wrapping both arms around himself, he closed his eyes.
He had known the moment he had woken. Her side of the bed was cold, not merely empty, and her clothes had disappeared along with the few belongings she had collected in this place. All that remained was a half-finished hut, a carved stone that he held now in one hand, and the openly aching space he had made for her in his heart. He had not meant to trust so much or hope so much, never again.
Strange, how insignificant were the reminders of what once was or could have been. Obi-Wan's braid wrapped twice around his wrist, still bright. Claire's stone with its promise of married minds, warm from only his skin.
For her, he could hardly mourn. She had returned to the embrace of her family, her daughter and the husband she still truly loved, and perhaps she would not remember the time spent here. Qui-Gon understood all too well the sometimes necessary difficulty of dividing the heart where affections could never be reconciled, but he could still be selfish, and make wishes and excuses for his own sake. Had he the choice...he might not have been able to bear returning her to her own world, and that was a terrible failing indeed. He had always sworn to place the greater good above his own temporary happiness.
Exhaling into the wind, he wondered how many more names he might need to carve onto the memorial wall before this place allowed him an escape.
[Claire Fraser is officially gone from the island. This would not be a good time for a first meeting, I'm afraid.]