It’s been a while, because I got distracted by other stories and life. And then @deadcatwithaflamethrower posted a link to the first part, which reminded me that this is a thing that I have that is fun and awesome, and… ok, and I’m not entirely sure I’m going in the same direction I was more than generally, but. Have another part!

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Dreamwidth, Livejournal (will be linked when I post over there)

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There is absolute silence from the Sith, and smothered amusement from Qui-Gon, and Obi-Wan takes the moment to move one of the few things he’d not removed to the center of the room. It’s a vase of some sort, and even if whatever the Sith has in mind does little to help him, it will at least provide suitable sharp shards to achieve some amount of pain.

“Now what?”

There’s a sigh from the Sith, and she comes to stand uncomfortably close behind him, her hands on his shoulders like points of ice, chin resting on his shoulder to look at the vase.

Break it.

When he takes a half-step, it feels like she digs her fingers into his skin, sharp points that arrest his movement before he gets close to the vase.

Not like that. This shouldn’t be so hard. Like shoving someone, except from the inside outward.

He holds very still for a moment, before drawing in a deep breath, reaching for the Force, feeling like he’s plunging his hands into a stream – a river – of ice-melt. Struggling to even direct it, and hearing the pop and clink of shattering ceramic scattering shards over the floor only faintly.

It feels like a current trying to drag him, drag him under, and Obi-Wan grits his teeth, reaching out further, trying to spread the strain, sprawling out over thin ice. He can hear other noises, but all he can focus on is keeping himself from falling in and drowning. Trying to freeze water into ice thick enough to bear his weight.

There you are.

The voice sounds satisfied, if far from content or even happy. It takes Obi-Wan a moment to remember it’s the voice of the Sith who’d told him he had a choice between learning and insanity. If this isn’t diving into insanity, he’s not sure he wants to know what that would be.

Washed away in the current, dragged under and drowned. This is. A beginning, at least. Better than I’d expect out of most Jedi. They’d flail about fighting, and they lose.

“You don’t fight the current, or you drown when you’ve exhausted yourself.” Obi-Wan’s voice sounds rough to his ears, as if he’s been screaming, and he takes a moment to pry his eyes open. What had been left in the room is… shards and shreds, scattered about as if a whirlwind had been contained inside the room. There are gouges in the floor, bits of stone and ceramic embedded in the walls – and in the ceiling when he tilts his head back, trying to roll his neck to release tension.

The Sith chuckles, patting him on the shoulder, her hands still icy cold. Not always, but Jedi are too used to placid ponds and pretty pools.

It takes a long moment for the tightness in Obi-Wan’s shoulders and neck to ease. “You said it’s like pushing someone from the inside out.” He closes his eyes, turning to look at the Sith. “Have you done that to someone?”

She shrugs, smirking. Yes.

Obi-Wan lets out his breath slowly, doing his best to ignore the sick swoop that runs through him. There is nothing he can do to change what any Sith has done in the past. All he can do is keep in mind what is possible and try not to fall into the worst of what can be done.

This is only a beginning. Just because you haven’t lost yourself on the first dipping of your toes into the Dark doesn’t mean you can refine this and expect it to keep you sane.

“Perhaps not. But it is a beginning, and maybe it will give me enough to start from until we can find somewhere better to train.” Somewhere that he isn’t going to strain someone’s hospitality with destruction simply in order to figure out how to use what he’s been plunged into.