Chiaroscuro
by Alex splix1971@msn.com

Archive: M_A, anywhere else please ask first

Category: Angst, AU, POV, Pre-slash

Rating: R for implied violence and sexuality

Warnings: Darkness abounds. Those squicked by EVILCLONE!
                                     Obi-Wan should run away now.

Spoilers: None

Summary: A predator contemplates his prey.

Note: Inspired by, and yet departing from, Ruth's "Vengeance is
                   Mine", a beautifully short, poisonous flower of a fic.

Disclaimers: Yeah, right. If I owned 'em you'd be watching this...

Feedback: Oh, yes, please. This is my first-ever fic, so please be
                                       gentle. Also, this is unbeta'd...all errors are mine.



         I've been watching you for ten days now. I'm almost ready.

         I admire you so much, and not simply because you're as beautiful
as I am. You are powerful, brave, chivalrous...your master's pride
and joy. His eyes glow when you're around, did you know that? Oh, I
can see what keeps you by his side. He's wonderful. I'm not blind.
Tall and almost as lovely as we are, compassionate, wise,a towering
hero to his fellow Jedi, in spite of his disregard for convention...or
because of it, perhaps.

         I know how you feel about him. You're so easy to read. You shield
yourself from him, but it's written on your face so plainly; you wonder
that he doesn't see it. What folly, Jedi...he wants you too. Wants you
so badly that he can't bring himself to meet your eyes. Strange, is it
not, that he flouts other aspects of the Code when it suits him, yet in
this matter he clings to it like a man drowning? He's consumed by
you, tortured...how he chastises himself for his desire, wanting you,
and yet wanting to preserve your innocence.

         For you are innocent, never mind that you're not a virgin. Virginity
has so little to do with innocence. The Temple shields its Padawan
learners too thoroughly. Your once-powerful Order will fall soon, and
all of its collected wisdom, all of its warrior's strength will be for
naught.  It won't take much, really. You've sabotaged yourselves,
spent ten thousand years as children, cringing in fear of the Dark.
But how little the Jedi truly know of Darkness! So little, they won't
recognize it when it curls at the spine of the Order. The Jedi have
avoided Darkness too long. Now they shall pay the price for their
foolishness.

         And Kenobi...you and your master shall pay most dearly.

         I've been busy while I've observed you. Your vulnerability is
painfully obvious. You love him. You want him. His very presence
sets your heart to pounding. Daily you repeat that tired litany of
serenity. And for the past ten days, I've been projecting thoughts
of him into your mind...thoughts all unbidden by you. How you
fight it, but I am relentless. Qui-Gon naked, sprawled on your bed,
wanton as any whore. Qui-Gon taking you into his arms, over-
powering you. Qui-Gon rampantly erect, guiding your head down.
Qui-Gon entering you as you scream in rapture. Now again...

         You're blushing. How lovely. I've never blushed. I don't think I'm
capable of blushing, but you do it so prettily. Gods, look at you!
You're in the full flower of youth...beautiful to behold, ripe, and
exquisitely pliant. There isn't a Padawan who wouldn't gladly bed
you. Lucky the few you've chosen to take to your bed. They didn't
have your heart, but they had that body of yours, and that was good
enough for them.

         It won't be good enough for me.

         My plan is elegant, deceptively simple. My master is pleased.
Clone captures progenitor, takes progenitor's place, destroys the
Jedi from within.

         The execution of the plan will be easy enough. Master Jinn will
never suspect me. Both of you have shielded yourselves from each
other for so long since you've become aware of your desires...the
training bond is tenuous, slipping away. I don't think that you're even
aware of it. You're both so vulnerable, and all because you won't yield
to passion. You both suffer so beautifully. So needlessly.

         My master wishes for me to kill you. He fears you, fears your
strength. As well he should.

         I'm not going to kill you, though I'm sure that eventually you'll
want me to. You'll beg me to kill you. But I have other plans for you, and
soon my master will be persuaded to my way of thinking. You have so
much untapped potential, Kenobi. I've so much to teach you. I want
you to know me, to know what it is that I am, what it is that you may
become...I want to take you, subject you to the most ecstatic pleasure,
the most excruciating pain. I want to hear that dulcet voice of yours
torn from your throat in agony and euphoria. I want to see your eyes fill
and overflow with tears. I want you to feel the searing pain of separation
from your beloved master, and I want to feel your hatred for me as you
watch me take his place.

         And then...oh, and then...epiphany. Revelation.

         The most faithful are the recently converted, I'm told.

         It will be glorious.

         You are alone now, in the quarters you share with your master. You
haven't felt my presence at all. You thought that those images of Qui-Gon
were your own, and you're filled with shame. Poor padawan. I can't say
that I'm sorry for doing that to you, because your anguish is so very
delightful to me.

         And where is your master? He's a fool to leave his student unguarded.

         As you enter the common room, I step out of the shadows, lower my
shields, construct walls of Force around us so that none will be alerted
to my presence. I allow you to take me in, reveling in your shock and
confusion.

         What is it that you see? A near mirror image of yourself. There are
some differences, of course. I'm clad entirely in black as befits my
Order and station, and my hair is long, not cut in that absurd style
that padawan learners wear. It will pain me to cut my hair to match
yours, but it's a necessary step. One must preserve continuity.

         I smile as your mouth drops in horror, as you realize what I am. You
call for your master along the training bond, but the walls I've erected
are
too powerful. Silence surrounds you, and you're utterly frozen. I
unsheathe
and ignite my saber, just to help you along.

         Yes.

         Draw your saber, Obi-Wan Kenobi. It's no good.

         Does your helplessness taste as sweet to you as it does to me?

         You're all mine now.


End.