Tangle 73/77 (PG-13) Anakin, Obi-Wan, others. Gen.
Disclaimer: George Lucas owns Star Wars. This story is purely a work of fan fiction, and I am not making any profit from it.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
In the dark, with no way to orient herself, Ryn fell toward Anakin as naturally as breathing. She let go of everything and let her inner gravity take over.
It felt like relief, like dying, like finally surrendering to the inevitable she’d been fighting since before she could remember.
She closed her eyes and fell.
(~)
Slowly Anakin realized that he was not alone. Someone was in the dark with him, searching for him.
He flinched and tried to push It away, feeling the jibber of fear deep inside -- wasn’t that how he had gotten here in the first place? -- but then he recognized ... something.
Anakin?
Warmth, and comfort: a steady Presence, whose familiarity beckoned.
Mom?
The Presence did not answer. Instead, it quested toward him again: Anakin?
That didn’t make any sense. Mom, is that you?
The Presence ghosted over his awareness, leaving an impression like the lingering scent of flowers long gone: there-but-not-there. It felt ...
strongdeterminedsad
And ... worried?
He stretched out instinctively to offer reassurance.
Anakin?
Thought suspended. Then, hesitantly: Ryn?
He felt her rush of relief, so powerful it almost made him giddy just by contact. I’m here, Anakin. I love you. Please don’t go away.
Comprehension came hard because there were no words here, only feelings. Everything was at once more meaningful and less precise.
The sharpness of her fear made him try. Away?
We’re losing you. She felt ... desperate, distracted by some harrowing fear. Anakin, please wake up.
(~)
Ryn came to with a start and jerked upright. Somehow she’d ended up slumped over, half-sprawled across Anakin’s chest. It wasn’t until she refocused her troubled gaze on his face, frantic -- why had he thrown her out, what was wrong now? -- that his signature finally registered: thrumming with muted anxiety, but bright and present and real again.
“Hey,” he said softly, lashes fluttering open as their eyes locked, and Ryn bent over and touched her forehead lightly to his.
“Hey,” she breathed in answer, her voice rough from worry. “It’s good to have you back.”
“I know,” Anakin said, pushing her hair back with unsteady fingers. “I came for you.”
Ryn nodded, acknowledging the truth of this, and eased back to give him her best thank you smile. The sudden answering warmth in Anakin’s eyes said it worked pretty well.
She helped him to a sitting position, because they didn’t have all day to just sit there and feel grateful. “What do you remember?”
Anakin blinked a couple of times. “Gunryth was probing me,” he said slowly. “It hurt.” There was a brief pause while they all tried to deal with the understatement there. “Then everything went dark. I don’t remember anything else until I felt you ... doing whatever that was.”
Ryn shifted, resting one knee on the floor to steady herself, and twisted to cast a glance over her shoulder at Gunryth. “What does that mean?”
Gunryth frowned. “I am ... not sure.”
Ryn scowled, trying to ignore the blinding headache forming behind her eyes. “What can we do?”
“You can journey to the Temple of the Living Force and seek help from the dedicated healers there.”
“No,” Ryn countered, “we can’t. We have to muster our weapons and ride on Stevan’s stronghold. Once we have him in custody, we can take up the hunt for Omega.”
“We should go after Obi-Wan first,” Anakin said.
“We’ll have an easier time of it if we don’t have to fight an enemy behind as well as in front,” Ryn said. “Take out Stevan and we remove Omega’s base in the system. And gain the support of Ardel’s warriors. It’s worth the delay.” Anakin’s jaw tightened, but Ryn forestalled him with a raised hand. “We can argue about this later. The point is: we don’t have time to go on pilgrimage.” She shot Gunryth a look. “Try again.”
Gunryth shrugged her shapely shoulders. “I cannot invent solutions out of thin air,” she reminded them. “I have not the skill to heal you myself. I have told you where you must go to seek better healing, but you were not ready to listen. What more can I do? The facts will not change themselves to fit your whim.”
“It is not a whim,” Anakin said, anger darkening his voice. “Obi-Wan could die!”
Gunryth faced him unperturbed, implacably serene. “Yes, he could. But so could you and Ryn. So could many other beings, whose lives depend on you. It is not my duty to help you defy the laws of nature merely because you do not like them. I will not help you to squander lives. If you are willing to seek healing, I will do all I can for you. But if you insist on taking the quick and easy path, when so many lives are at stake ... I fear more beings will die. I cannot be a part of that.”
Anakin surged to his feet, ready to take Gunryth head-to-head. Sensing disaster, Ryn scrambled after him. “Anakin, wait.” The room made a slow, nauseating turn as the pain in her head worsened. “Ow.” She pressed one hand to her temple and waved the other ineffectually at Anakin. “Just ... wait.” She swayed drunkenly, righted herself, and opened her mouth.
Instead of words, she gushed a toxic-smelling spew of bile as her empty stomach tried to turn itself inside out.
She reeled, but Anakin caught her before she could hit the floor. Ryn fought off the sense of deja vu -- that time in the infirmary had been different, she’d been poisoned then -- and struggled to stand, still retching.
“Ryn?” Anakin said, panic rising in his voice. But since this was Anakin, the fear was quickly submersed in belligerence: “What did you do to her?”
“It is as I feared,” Gunryth proclaimed weakly. “The forced activity is causing you to unravel. Instead of separating from each other, the unity of your very beings is disrupted. Quite simply, you are both coming undone.”
Anakin shook his head, bewildered, and clutched Ryn’s arm tighter while she leaned to the side and retched up more vile-smelling acid. “What does that mean?” he demanded, paying her heaves no attention.
Ryn got her retching under control in time to lift her head and see Gunryth’s shocked white face hang still while the rest of the room spun sickeningly around it. “You are both dying.”
Ryn breathed in hard and thought, Of course we are.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
In the dark, with no way to orient herself, Ryn fell toward Anakin as naturally as breathing. She let go of everything and let her inner gravity take over.
It felt like relief, like dying, like finally surrendering to the inevitable she’d been fighting since before she could remember.
She closed her eyes and fell.
(~)
Slowly Anakin realized that he was not alone. Someone was in the dark with him, searching for him.
He flinched and tried to push It away, feeling the jibber of fear deep inside -- wasn’t that how he had gotten here in the first place? -- but then he recognized ... something.
Anakin?
Warmth, and comfort: a steady Presence, whose familiarity beckoned.
Mom?
The Presence did not answer. Instead, it quested toward him again: Anakin?
That didn’t make any sense. Mom, is that you?
The Presence ghosted over his awareness, leaving an impression like the lingering scent of flowers long gone: there-but-not-there. It felt ...
strongdeterminedsad
And ... worried?
He stretched out instinctively to offer reassurance.
Anakin?
Thought suspended. Then, hesitantly: Ryn?
He felt her rush of relief, so powerful it almost made him giddy just by contact. I’m here, Anakin. I love you. Please don’t go away.
Comprehension came hard because there were no words here, only feelings. Everything was at once more meaningful and less precise.
The sharpness of her fear made him try. Away?
We’re losing you. She felt ... desperate, distracted by some harrowing fear. Anakin, please wake up.
(~)
Ryn came to with a start and jerked upright. Somehow she’d ended up slumped over, half-sprawled across Anakin’s chest. It wasn’t until she refocused her troubled gaze on his face, frantic -- why had he thrown her out, what was wrong now? -- that his signature finally registered: thrumming with muted anxiety, but bright and present and real again.
“Hey,” he said softly, lashes fluttering open as their eyes locked, and Ryn bent over and touched her forehead lightly to his.
“Hey,” she breathed in answer, her voice rough from worry. “It’s good to have you back.”
“I know,” Anakin said, pushing her hair back with unsteady fingers. “I came for you.”
Ryn nodded, acknowledging the truth of this, and eased back to give him her best thank you smile. The sudden answering warmth in Anakin’s eyes said it worked pretty well.
She helped him to a sitting position, because they didn’t have all day to just sit there and feel grateful. “What do you remember?”
Anakin blinked a couple of times. “Gunryth was probing me,” he said slowly. “It hurt.” There was a brief pause while they all tried to deal with the understatement there. “Then everything went dark. I don’t remember anything else until I felt you ... doing whatever that was.”
Ryn shifted, resting one knee on the floor to steady herself, and twisted to cast a glance over her shoulder at Gunryth. “What does that mean?”
Gunryth frowned. “I am ... not sure.”
Ryn scowled, trying to ignore the blinding headache forming behind her eyes. “What can we do?”
“You can journey to the Temple of the Living Force and seek help from the dedicated healers there.”
“No,” Ryn countered, “we can’t. We have to muster our weapons and ride on Stevan’s stronghold. Once we have him in custody, we can take up the hunt for Omega.”
“We should go after Obi-Wan first,” Anakin said.
“We’ll have an easier time of it if we don’t have to fight an enemy behind as well as in front,” Ryn said. “Take out Stevan and we remove Omega’s base in the system. And gain the support of Ardel’s warriors. It’s worth the delay.” Anakin’s jaw tightened, but Ryn forestalled him with a raised hand. “We can argue about this later. The point is: we don’t have time to go on pilgrimage.” She shot Gunryth a look. “Try again.”
Gunryth shrugged her shapely shoulders. “I cannot invent solutions out of thin air,” she reminded them. “I have not the skill to heal you myself. I have told you where you must go to seek better healing, but you were not ready to listen. What more can I do? The facts will not change themselves to fit your whim.”
“It is not a whim,” Anakin said, anger darkening his voice. “Obi-Wan could die!”
Gunryth faced him unperturbed, implacably serene. “Yes, he could. But so could you and Ryn. So could many other beings, whose lives depend on you. It is not my duty to help you defy the laws of nature merely because you do not like them. I will not help you to squander lives. If you are willing to seek healing, I will do all I can for you. But if you insist on taking the quick and easy path, when so many lives are at stake ... I fear more beings will die. I cannot be a part of that.”
Anakin surged to his feet, ready to take Gunryth head-to-head. Sensing disaster, Ryn scrambled after him. “Anakin, wait.” The room made a slow, nauseating turn as the pain in her head worsened. “Ow.” She pressed one hand to her temple and waved the other ineffectually at Anakin. “Just ... wait.” She swayed drunkenly, righted herself, and opened her mouth.
Instead of words, she gushed a toxic-smelling spew of bile as her empty stomach tried to turn itself inside out.
She reeled, but Anakin caught her before she could hit the floor. Ryn fought off the sense of deja vu -- that time in the infirmary had been different, she’d been poisoned then -- and struggled to stand, still retching.
“Ryn?” Anakin said, panic rising in his voice. But since this was Anakin, the fear was quickly submersed in belligerence: “What did you do to her?”
“It is as I feared,” Gunryth proclaimed weakly. “The forced activity is causing you to unravel. Instead of separating from each other, the unity of your very beings is disrupted. Quite simply, you are both coming undone.”
Anakin shook his head, bewildered, and clutched Ryn’s arm tighter while she leaned to the side and retched up more vile-smelling acid. “What does that mean?” he demanded, paying her heaves no attention.
Ryn got her retching under control in time to lift her head and see Gunryth’s shocked white face hang still while the rest of the room spun sickeningly around it. “You are both dying.”
Ryn breathed in hard and thought, Of course we are.