DISCLAIMER: Star Wars and all publicly recognisable characters, names and references, etc are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm Ltd, Lucasarts Inc and 20th Century Fox. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.
“Over here!”
It might have been the stickiness surrounding him, coating his torso and forming a puddle on the ground. It might have been the fact that his limbs were completely and utterly numb. Either method of inference told Qui-Gon Jinn what he needed to know. He was injured badly. He could hear his Padawan nearby, scuffing his teenage feet in an effort not to fall down beside him.
“Master? Master, I can see you. Are you all right?” Obi-Wan Kenobi was getting closer, but still too far for help.
Qui-Gon thought along the link between himself and his apprentice. The link of a Master Jedi to his Padawan was very strong and to use it was less energy than to talk. Qui-Gon doubted, even with his Force enhanced strength, that he could have talked at that moment. He was losing too much blood. He told his apprentice as much across the bond.
Obi-Wan’s voice became tighter as it returned down the slope. “Hold on, Master. I’m coming. I’m bringing a healer. Relax.”
Qui-Gon grimaced as he saw the dark form of his Padawan nearing. Relax…very funny, Padawan, he thought.
“Humor is the best medicine, Master.” Obi-Wan’s voice was directly above him. The cliff immediately above Qui-Gon’s head was sheer and rough. It was a tough climb, and had been an even tougher fall. Qui-Gon snorted in derision. One of the laser shots had grazed his head. As he was falling backwards, another had pierced his arm. This combination sent him sprawling over the cliff side and unable to respond with the Force to interrupt his fall. Head injuries had a way of interrupting Force flow. A few pebbles fell on his face. Seconds later, Obi-Wan Kenobi was kneeling next to him on the thin ledge.
Obi-Wan’s face filled his vision. The man was worried, Qui-Gon could tell from the lines on his forehead. In spite of the tremendous pain in his body, he almost chuckled at the dirty streaks and dust covering his Padawan. Smiling, the younger man stood to help the other person with him to alight on the ledge. Qui-Gon could barely make out the lighter tan of a healer’s tunic.
“What is his condition?” The light lilt of a young woman’s voice sounded next to his head. The Jedi Master’s ears perked at the voice. Larina, he thought.
Obi-Wan gripped his master’s shoulders and nodded. “Yes, Master, it is Larina. And yes, she has healed a living, breathing person before. And yes…”
“…Master Qui-Gon, Ha’run has her hands full above and I was the only one that was able to follow Obi-Wan down the cliff face. I truly feel that I can do this.” Larina’s small hands landed on his chest.
Qui-Gon squinted at the woman. Already small, in the dark, she appeared even smaller. The face that he knew to be open and honest was closed and tight. She was worried about her ability, again. But he had no strength to reassure her or to help her. His nod was minimal and hard to see at best, but Obi-Wan could feel the acquiescence.
“Heal him, Larina.” Obi-Wan moved to cushion his Master’s head. “And hurry if you can; his thoughts are wild…the blood loss and pain must be great.”
Larina grimaced as she moved her hands to the Jedi Master’s shoulder. The fabric was still mostly in one piece, but she could envision that the skin b eneath was not. Sighing, she shifted her weight to lean over him. The wound was through the flesh. It had clipped an artery. Serious, but relatively easy to heal. “Master Qui-Gon? This will be straightforward. But I want to join with your mind to lessen your pain. Is that acceptable…I must have your agreement to do so.”
“Yes..” Qui-Gon croaked and then frowned in pain.
Obi-Wan smiled, as he knew that his Master was doing so not to ease his pain but to serve as a study subject for the young healer.
One of Larina’s hands moved to cup Qui-Gon’s bearded chin, while the other remained on his shoulder. “Relax, then, Master. When you awake, you will be healed.” She closed her eyes. Moments later, Qui-Gon’s muscles eased in tension, his eyes drifting shut. Larina’s face screwed up in concentration and then eased as Qui-Gon’s body did.
Obi-Wan watched as the two joined minds and relaxed into each other. Qui-Gon’s breathing became deeper and less strained. Larina’s hands became languid in their movements, gliding across the Jedi Master’s chest and arm. She moved in a trance, as was expected in a healing. She lifted her eyes to meet Obi-Wan’s at one point, and he smiled at the slightly off-kilter way that her gaze tried to find his. He did not worry about Qui-Gon; he knew that she would not stop until she saw the mission through. Besides, he thought, watching the easy way with which her hands moved it was all going in the manner that it was supposed to.
The musing smile that Obi-Wan had on his face vanished as he watched his Master’s hand raise and anchor onto the healing hand that rested against Qui-Gon’s chest. The fingers melded and held-- a small pale hand in a weathered older one, and neither owner the wiser.