cimorene

this snip of crackfic followed.

does anyone remember those nslash stories where the protagonists are the little plastic dolls, like in the video to 'it's gonna be me'? i'm having vague pangs here. anyway, though, i'm seeing something similar with the ornaments.

'master? master! i can't see you!'

'stay where you are, obi-wan.'

'you're not hurt?'

'no, perfectly --AUGH!'

'master?!'

qui-gon ducks under another of the enormous thorny attackers, slashing with his saber. his face is going to sport an array of vicous red scratches when he finally reaches his apprentice. 'no, my obi-wan, stay where you are. it's too dangerous. i'm fine.' ::mutter:: 'i've seen worse than these thorns in my time.'

though unmollified, obi-wan smiles faintly for a moment. 'and fought them off one-handed, and had them bound and waiting when mace showed up.'

qui flings himself into a roll on the ground and slashes up at the [equally thorny] belly of another of the great green impediments. this one, when it falls, takes with it a blown-glass spheroid the size of a small hovercraft, and there's the musical crunch of broken glass, far away, as it strikes the floor. 'you're damned right,' he says, smoothly regaining his feet, not in the least out of breath. through the dense forestry of green spines he can glimpse the pale smudge of obi-wan's face, now, and he speeds his steps.

'master!'

'i'll be just a moment,' he says grimly. 'a wooden rocking horse and some felt snowmen to dispatch, and i'll be right with you.'

fervently: 'and then we'll be *out* of here.'

'never to return,' qui-gon assures him with another calculated slash of his saber. his eyes fall on two cardboard boxes labeld 'hallmark' and skate as quickly away. never, he repeats to himself firmly. never.