darththalia (darththalia) wrote in tpm_flashback, @ 2004-07-17 19:30:00 |
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Original poster: the_emu
(Yes, Thalia, Laura guilt-tripped me. Nyah.)
Title: Lost Jedi
Author: Augusta Pembrooke
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Q/O, Q/Curt
Warnings: No. Loose references to Curt Wild's childhood, but no details.
Author's e-mail, web site and/or LJ id: a_pembrooke@yahoo.com
Link to story: http://www.masterapprentice.org/archive/l/l
Reasons for recommending:
In the search for Obi-Wan clones, Qui-Gon has ended up in Curt Wild's 1984. The story begins with Curt Wild levitating an array of very Curt-like objects: cigarettes and wine. It's this surreal but somehow believable mix of trashy Curt world and spiritual Jedi world that makes Augusta's story so fascinating.
Of course, Qui-Gon is in love with Obi-Wan, and Curt is in love with Qui-Gon. It's heart-wrenching to be in the shoes of the Other, and with our nice solid one-pairing-fandom it's rare that an author can leave the reader split between wanting Q/O and Q/other (or O/other). Augusta manages it in spectacular style. Curt's yearning for Qui-Gon hurts. So does Qui-Gon's compassion for Curt.
This is another one to throw in the 'Damn, I wish she'd written the sequel she was planning,' pile. But it stands beautifully on its own.
Quote from story:
I turned to look at the master, who was standing with his back to me looking out the window down to the river. He turned towards me and gave me a questioning look, while I searched for the source of the mental snap that had broken my concentration. And found it not in something that was there, but something that was no longer there... the craving for smack that was a constant part of my mind for the past seven years was simply - gone.
"Huh?" I looked back to Qui-Gon for an explanation.
"It was distracting you - holding you back, interferring with your training. We don't have a lot of time.' That was it - no apology, no nothing.
I could tell the training was having some effect, though; I didn't flare up in anger at his interference, as I would have even a mere month ago. Instead, I was the voice of calm reason when I said "you mean YOU don't have a lot of time. You ever think maybe I didn't want your help?" No raised voice, just a question.
"I know you didn't. That's one of the ... discomforts of the powers you're being trained to use. Sometimes you'll have to make decisions for other people, decisions that they would prefer to make for themselves. It's a lonely path." He turned back to the window, but not before I saw the pain on his face, felt it in his thoughts. "There will be other wants you can't satisfy, if that's what's bothering you."
Oh, I know there will be. There always are. I was looking at one right now.